human
Here, Joan, mix some cinnamon in that sugar, 'less you'd ruther have molasses on 'em. You ought to see the room he's got. Nothin' but books, all over the tables, piled up on the floor, even on the window-sills--
gpt
Books?
human
Whatever people want all them books around for I can't see, said Ellen.
gpt
Dust collectors, I call 'em; but he says they're his college career. Always will have his joke! And the dirt--! He had a colored woman in to do for him before I come, and guess what she used to do with her dust?
human
Swept it under the bed and left it there! Land! said Ellen Neal,
gpt
I can indeed, murmured Joan,
human
You've the truth of it. There wasn't a morning for about a week but what he'd thump on the floor and yell down the chimney, 'Mrs. Neal, _oh_, Mrs. Neal! For heaven's sake where is my blue necktie?' or, 'In the name of Jehoshaphat, what have you done with my other pair of pants?' It kind of reminded me of your pa, she said, sighing.
gpt
I been lookin' after him ever sence. There now, ain't you goin' to eat your pancakes now you've got 'em?