If it was, God knows you could have it."
"Where did you get ten dollars?"
"Pa.
Pa."
"You wont tell me.
Did you come by it so shameful you dare not?"
“It's not mine, I tell you.
Cant you understand it's not mine?"
"It's not like I wouldn't pay it back.
But she calls her own father a thief."
"I cant, I tell you.
I tell you it's not my money.
God knows you could have it."
"I wouldn't take it.
My own born daughter that has et my food for seventeen years, begrudges me the loan of ten dollars."
"It's not mine.
I cant."
"Whose is it, then?"
"It was give to me.
To buy something with."
"To buy what with?"
"Pa.
Pa."
"It's just a loan.
God knows, I hate for my blooden children to reproach me.
But I give them what was mine without stint.
Cheerful I give them, without stint.
And now they deny me.
Addie.
It was lucky for you you died, Addie."
"Pa.
Pa."
"God knows it is."
He took the money and went out.
Cash.
So when we stopped there to borrow the shovels we heard the graphophone playing in the house, and so when we got done with the shovels pa says,
"I reckon I better take them back."
So we went back to the house.
"We better take Cash on to Peabody's," Jewel said.
"It wont take but a minute," pa said.
He got down from the wagon.
The music was not playing now.
"Let Vardaman do it," Jewel said.
"He can do it in half the time you can.
Or here, you let me—"
"I reckon I better do it," pa says.
"Long as it was me that borrowed them."
So we set in the wagon, but the music wasn't playing now.
I reckon it's a good thing we aint got ere a one of them.
I reckon I wouldn't never get no work done a-tall for listening to it.