Tuttle smiled patronizingly. “What can you do?’
“Scrapin’, dippin’, er hackin’,” was the confident answer.
“You?” Tuttle laughed softly. “Why, that’s a man’s work. It’s hard.”
“Any harder ’n breakin’ bull yearlin’s to the yoke? Er splittin’ rails an’ breakin’ new ground?”
“Mean to say you’ve done all that?”
“I most bardaceously have!”
Labour was scarce at the time. Tuttle considered the girl’s request carefully, asked a few more questions, and decided to take a chance.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“S’liny Jo.”
“What else?”