"Who'se a-gwine to take de job ef I gibs it up?" he asked.
"What de debbil do you k'yar 'bout dat?" asked Sam. "Anyhow, dey ain't a-gwine to raise de wages. Yo' kin jes' bet yo' life on dat. Yo' kin do jes' as yo' please 'bout 'ceptin' de offer I done made you. I oughtn't to 'a' made it, but I'se always a-makin' of a fool o' myse'f, when my feelin's is touched. Six dollahs is a lot o' money, hit is. Maybe yo' think I'm Mr. Astor, to go a-throwin' of money away like dat, or, maybe yo'se Mr. Astor yerse'f, to be hesitatin' 'bout a-'ceptin' of it. Reckon I bettah withdraw de offah—"
"Who'se a-hesitatin'?" broke in old Peter, hurriedly. "I ain't never thought o' hesitatin', Sam. I'll take de money sho', an' I thank you kindly for yer generosity, Sam. You'se a mighty fine boy, Sam, an' I'se always liked you ever since I fust knowed you. Now dat you'se a-behavin' jes' like as if yo' was my own chile, I reck'lec' dat I always had a fatherly feelin' foh you, Sam. Lemme have de money now, Sam, so's I kin go to sleep to-night a-feelin' I ain't got but one mo' day to do dis heah sort o' wuk."
"Yo' won't change yo' mind?" asked Sam.
"Sartain sho'! Wish I may die ef I do."
Sam regarded that oath as one likely to be binding upon any negro conscience, but he wished to take no risks; so putting on an air of great solemnity, and pushing his face to within four inches of the old man's, he said:
"Now you'se done swore it by de 'wish I may die,' an' you mus' keep dat sw'ar. Ef yo' don't, it'll be my solemn duty to carry out yo' wish by killin' you myse'f, an', 'fore de Lawd, I'll do it. Heah's de money."