“How much you want fer hit?” he says.
“Five cents,” I says.
“I aint got dat much,” he says.
“How much you got?” I says.
“I aint got nothing,” he says.
“All right,” I says. I went on.
“Mr Jason,” he says.
“Whyn’t you hush up?” Dilsey says. “He jes teasin you. He fixin to use dem tickets hisself. Go on, Jason, and let him lone.”
“I dont want them,” I says. I came back to the stove. “I came in here to burn them up. But if you want to buy one for a nickel?” I says, looking at him and opening the stove lid.
“I aint got dat much,” he says.