human
Nope, he said, drooping listlessly against the door-post with a shawl over his shoulders,
gpt
I cain’t sell you no grain nor hay. Had th’ shakes so bad this spring I hain’t got to do much farmin’, and I hain’t got hardly enough to feed my stock. Then, as a shrill squeal pierced the air his eyes brightened and an idea seemed to strike him.
human
But I tell you what I will do, he drawled,
gpt
I’ll sell you two of the nicest little suckin’ pigs you ever see. Their mother up an’ died of the cholery a few nights ago, and they ain’t old enough to eat yit. Me an’ the old woman, havin’ th’ shakes so, cain’t bother to feed ’em, so I’ll let you have the pair of ’em for two dollars. Goin’ off in th’ wilderness like you be they might come in handy.