"I been tendin to my business," he says. "Mr Earl knows whar I been."
"You may can fool him," I says. "I wont tell on you."
"Den he's de onliest man here I'd try to fool," he says.
"Whut I want to waste my time foolin a man whut I dont keer whether I sees him Sat'dy night er not?
I wont try to fool you," he says. "You too smart fer me.
Yes, suh," he says, looking busy as hell, putting five or six little packages into the wagon. "You's too smart fer me.
Aint a man in dis town kin keep up wid you fer smartness.
You fools a man whut so smart he cant even keep up wid hisself," he says, getting in the wagon and unwrapping the reins.
"Who's that?" I says.
"Dat's Mr Jason Compson," he says. "Git up dar, Dan!"
One of the wheels was just about to come off.
I watched to see if he'd get out of the alley before it did.
Just turn any vehicle over to a nigger, though.
I says that old rattletrap's just an eyesore, yet you'll keep it standing there in the carriage house a hundred years just so that boy can ride to the cemetery once a week.
I says he's not the first fellow that'll have to do things he doesn't want to.
I'd make him ride in that car like a civilised man or stay at home.
What does he know about where he goes or what he goes in, and us keeping a carriage and a horse so he can take a ride on Sunday afternoon.
A lot Job cared whether the wheel came off or not, long as he wouldn't have too far to walk back.
Like I say the only place for them is in the field, where they'd have to work from sunup to sundown.
They cant stand prosperity or an easy job.
Let one stay around white people for a while and he's not worth killing.
They get so they can outguess you about work before your very eyes, like Roskus the only mistake he ever made was he got careless one day and died.
Shirking and stealing and giving you a little more lip and a little more lip until some day you have to lay them out with a scantling or something.
Well, it's Earl's business.
But I'd hate to have my business advertised over this town by an old doddering nigger and a wagon that you thought every time it turned a corner it would come all to pieces.
The sun was all high up in the air now, and inside it was beginning to get dark.
I went up front.
The square was empty.
Earl was back closing the safe, and then the clock begun to strike.
"You lock the back door?" he says.
I went back and locked it and came back. "I suppose you're going to the show tonight," he says. "I gave you those passes yesterday, didn't I?"
"Yes," I says. "You want them back?"
"No, no," he says. "I just forgot whether I gave them to you or not.
No sense in wasting them."
He locked the door and said Goodnight and went on.
The sparrows were still rattling away in the trees, but the square was empty except for a few cars.
There was a ford in front of the drugstore, but I didn't even look at it.
I know when I've had enough of anything.
I dont mind trying to help her, but I know when I've had enough.
I guess I could teach Luster to drive it, then they could chase her all day long if they wanted to, and I could stay home and play with Ben.
I went in and got a couple of cigars.
Then I thought I'd have another headache shot for luck, and I stood and talked with them a while.
"Well," Mac says. "I reckon you've got your money on the Yankees this year."
"What for?" I says.
"The Pennant," he says. "Not anything in the league can beat them."
"Like hell there's not," I says. "They're shot," I says.
"You think a team can be that lucky forever?"
"I dont call it luck," Mac says.
"I wouldn't bet on any team that fellow Ruth played on," I says. "Even if I knew it was going to win."
"Yes?" Mac says.