"'Twenty dollahs!' says the ole nigger who has hold of the mare.
"'Fifty!' says some one else.
"'Hole on dah,' sings out the ole nigger. 'I'se just 'bliged to tell you folks I'se pu'chasin' dis hyar mare fo' Miss Sally Goodloe!'
"The auctioneer looks at the guy who bids fifty.
"'I withdraw that bid,' says the guy.
"'Sold to you for twenty dollars, Uncle Jake,' says the auctioneer. 'Bring on number twelve!'
"'Hyah's yo' twenty dollahs,' says the ole nigger, fishin' out a roll of raggedy bills and passin' 'em up to the stand.
"'Thank you, Uncle Jake. Come to the clerk for your bill of sale this evenin',' says the auctioneer.
"I watches the sale a while longer, 'n' then mooches into the big barn where the yearlin's 'n' two-year-olds is waitin' to be sold. They're a nice lot of colts, but I ain't interested in this young stuff—colts is too much of a gamble fur me. Only about one in fifty'll make good. Somebody else can spend their money on 'em at that kind of odds.
"I goes out of the colt barn 'n' begins to ramble around, lampin' things in general. I comes to a shed full of plows, 'n' I has to laugh when I sees 'em. I'm standin' there with a grin on my face when a nigger comes 'round the shed 'n' sees me lookin' at them plows.