"Well, you don't look it," was the compliment. "However, I'll give you a trial at $1.50 per day. You can board with Mr. ...... for thirty cents a day."
"That's unusually cheap for board," I said. "A man doing hard labor needs plenty to eat and I'm perfectly willing to pay at least $3.50 per week."
Evidently he misconstrued my meaning.
"My men furnish plenty to eat for any man," said he, "but you won't get any pie or cake," he retorted, eyeing me with undisguised disapproval.
"O, that's all right! I can eat anything," I hastened to say.
"Very well, Mr. Peele, you may come to work this afternoon. It's not far to your boarding place. Just keep the straight path through the woods there, and its the first house you get to."
I'll not expose my landlord's name, but for the sake of convenience we'll call him Mr. Black.
In due time I reached the Black household. The scene which met my gaze was altogether uninviting and unappetizing. I can't describe the house. There was one living room, a kitchen, and a shed room.
The day was warm and several Black children were in the yard playing as I reached the gate.
Upon seeing a stranger approach there was a general stampede for the back yard, some of the smaller children taking refuge behind Mrs. Black, who at that moment appeared in the open doorway.