“There’s no law making them farm in the hills,” I says, “Or anywhere else.”
“Where would you and me be, if it wasn’t for the farmers?” he says.
“I’d be home right now,” I says, “Lying down, with an ice pack on my head.”
“You have these headaches too often,” he says. “Why dont you have your teeth examined good? Did he go over them all this morning?”
“Did who?” I says.
“You said you went to the dentist this morning.”
“Do you object to my having the headache on your time?” I says. “Is that it?” They were crossing the alley now, coming up from the show.
“There they come,” he says. “I reckon I better get up front.” He went on. It’s a curious thing how no matter what’s wrong with you, a man’ll tell you to have your teeth examined and a woman’ll tell you to get married. It always takes a man that never made much at any thing to tell you how to run your business, though. Like these college professors without a whole pair of socks to their name, telling you how to make a million in ten years, and a woman that couldn’t even get a husband can always tell you how to raise a family.
Old man Job came up with the wagon. After a while he got through wrapping the lines around the whip socket.
“Well,” I says, “Was it a good show?”