"I don't believe it. You're not old enough. But I'm glad you don't want the clo'es. They wouldn't be of no use to you. Just you take the bag, and I'll foller on behind."
"I want my pay first."
"I aint got the change. My darter Seraphiny will pay you when we get to her house."
"That don't go down," said Ben, decidedly. "Payment in advance; that's the way I do business."
"You'll get your pay; don't you be afraid."
"I know I shall; but I want it now."
"You won't run away after I've paid you, will you?"
"In course not. That aint my style."
The old lady took out her purse, and drew therefrom forty-seven cents. She protested that she had not a cent more. Ben pardoned the deficiency, feeling that he would, notwithstanding, be well paid for his time.
"All right," said he, magnanimously. "I don't mind the three cents. It aint any object to a man of my income. Take my hand, old lady, and we'll go across the street."