“Well, we ain’t doin’ nothin’, might’s well be workin’. We ain’t gonna find us no nice place to live like this. Come on, now. Le’s go talk to the other fellas. We can do her if ever’body helps.”
Al said, “If Aggie goes, I’m a-goin’ too.”
Pa said, “Look, Al, if them fellas won’t dig, then we’ll all hafta go. Come on, le’s go talk to ’em.” They hunched their shoulders and ran down the cat-walk to the next car and up the walk into its open door.
Ma was at the stove, feeding a few sticks to the feeble flame. Ruthie crowded close beside her. “I’m hungry,” Ruthie whined.
“No, you ain’t,” Ma said. “You had good mush.”
“Wisht I had a box a Cracker Jack. There ain’t nothin’ to do. Ain’t no fun.”
“They’ll be fun,” Ma said. “You jus’ wait. Be fun purty soon. Git a house an’ a place, purty soon.”
“Wisht we had a dog,” Ruthie said. “We’ll have a dog; have a cat, too.”
“Yella cat?”
“Don’t bother me,” Ma begged. “Don’t go plaguin’ me now, Ruthie.