"Then you may keep the rest of the clo'es. I don't want 'em."
Sam made a movement as if to leave the store.
"Give me twenty cents more, my son."
"Didn't I tell you I wasn't your son? I won't give you no twenty cents, but I'll tell you what I'll do—I'll give you these clo'es I've got on."
The old man looked at them dubiously.
"They ain't worth much," he said.
"I know they ain't but they're worth twenty cents."
There was another critical inspection, and the decision was given in Sam's favor.
"You may have the clo'es," said the old man. "Now, where's your money?"
Sam produced a five-dollar bill.