human
Well, we make out to keep things going, John announced pridefully.
gpt
We got leetle bad luck, not much. One heifer, she die--blackleg. Four pigs, they froze--leetle fellers. I save the rest, all right. Ole Mooley, she goin' have a calf purty queeck now. I got her in leetle shed by hog-pen. Looks like it storm, all right.
human
Felt like it, too. Billy Louise made an effort to get back into the old channels of thought.
gpt
We'll milk old Mooley, John; I feel as if I could live on cream and milk for the next five years. You ought to see the watery stuff they call milk in Boise! Star must be pretty near dry now, isn't she?
human
Purty near. John's voice was beginning to ooze the comfort that warmth was giving his big body.
gpt
She give two quart, mebby. Spot, she give leetle more. I got that white hog fat. I kill him any time now you say.
human
If it doesn't storm, you might kill him to-morrow or next day, John. I'll take a roast up to Marthy when I go. I'll go in a day or two. She glanced toward the kitchen end of the long room. Phoebe was busy in the pantry with the door shut.
gpt
Have you seen or heard anything of Ward lately?
human
No. I ain't seen Ward for long time. I thought mebbe he be down long time ago. He ain't come. John shifted a little farther from the blaze and stood teetering comfortably upon the balls of his feet, like a bear.
gpt
Mebbe he's gone out other way to work.
human
Did he say anything?
gpt
No, he don't say nothin' las' time he come. That's-- John rolled his black eyes seekingly at the farther wall while he counted mentally the weeks.
human
I guess that mus' be fo' or five weeks now. Charlie Fox, he come las' week.
gpt
John, you better kill a chicken for Billy Louise. I bet she ain't had no chicken since she's gone. Phoebe came from the pantry with her hands all flour.
human
You go now. That young speckled rooster be good, mebby. He's fat. He's fightin' all the chickens, anyway.
gpt
All right. I kill him.