“Is that goin’ well with my friend Charlie?”
“In the house; call her,” making pretense of rising.
“Non, non; I don’t want,”—the speaker paused to breathe,—“’Ow is collection?”
“Oh,” said Charlie, “every day he make me more poorer.”
“What do you hask for it?” asked the planter, indifferently, designating the house with a wave of his whip.
“Ask for w’at?” said Injin Charlie.
“De house. What you ask for it?”
“I don’t believe,” said Charlie.
“What you would take for it?” cried the planter.