“What are you talkin' about?” interrupted his boss, angrily. “Ain't I as good as a worfless white man that begged a meal of vittles of me, coz he was starvin'? You jest shut up your mouf, and go to work.”
Eben sadly resumed his labor. Herbert pitied him, in spite of his folly and wickedness.
“Eben, do you owe this man anything?” he added.
“Yes, he does. He owes me for his dinner. Don't you go to interfere!” returned the colored man.
“How much was your dinner worth?” asked Herbert, putting his hand into his pocket.
“It was wuf a quarter.”
“There is your money! Now, Eben, come with me.”
“I've been very unfortunate,” wailed Eben.
“Would you like to go back to Wayneboro?” asked Herbert.
“Yes, anywhere,” answered Eben, eagerly. “I can't make a livin' here. I have almost starved sometimes.”