When he fust come here, I jes' goes
to him, and ses I, 'How's you goin' to run this farm, sir,--ramshackle or
reg'lar?' He looked at me kinder bothered, and then I 'splained. 'Well,'
said he, 'reg'lar will cost more money than I've got, and I reckon we'll
have to run it ramshackle.' That's what we did, and we're gittin' along
fust rate. He works and I work, and what we ain't got no time to do, we
let stand jes' thar till we git time to 'tend to it. That's ramshackle.
We don't spend no time on fancy fixin's, and not much money on nuthin'."
"That's jes' what I've been thinkin' mesilf," said Molly. "I don't
see no signs of money bein' spint on this place nather for one thing
or anuther."
"You don't always have to spend money to get craps," said Mike; "look at
our corn and pertaters. They is fust rate, and when we sends our craps to
market, there won't be much to take for 'spenses out of what we git."
"Craps!" said Molly, with a sneer. "If you hauls your weeds to market,
it'll take more wagons than you can hire in this country, and thim's the
only craps my oi has lit on yit.
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