“Yes, sir.” Their footsteps beat on the road together. “I got twenty acres of cotton. Little late, but it’s ready now.
Thought I’d go down and try to get some pickers.”
“You’ll get ’em awright. Season’s near over.”
“Hope so. My place is only a mile up that way.”
“Six of us,” said Ma. “Three men an’ me an’ two little fellas.”
“I’ll put out a sign. Two miles—this road.”
“We’ll be there in the mornin’.”
“I hope it don’t rain.”
“Me too,” said Ma. “Twenty acres won’ las’ long.”
“The less it lasts the gladder I’ll be. My cotton’s late. Didn’ get it in till late.”