"Do you think Mr. Porter can afford to pay you wages and let you go home three times a week in the middle of the afternoon?"
"I couldn't work when I was sick of course," said Sam.
"You're mighty delicate, getting sick two or three times a week."
"Couldn't help it," said Sam, unconcerned.
"I suppose you have come to work this morning?"
"Ye-es, but I can't work very hard—I ain't quite got over my headache."
"Then you'll be glad to hear that you won't have to work at all."
"Ain't there anything to do?" asked Sam, with an air of relief.
"Yes, there's plenty to do, but your services ain't required. You're discharged!"
"What!" exclaimed Sam, his eyes lighting up with anger.