XXIV The Labor Situation

“Don’t hardly seem fair,” said Bill with a hitch Tew his gallus—the other was busted— “Fer the papers an’ all, the public an’ sich”— An’ I seen he was kind o’ disgusted— “Ter praise up the workers ter home an’ not fitin’ An’ gittin’ all kinds o’ big pay, An’ ’en strikin’ fer more—Whoa thar! Quit yer bitin’!”— He was combin’ an breshin’ ol’ Gray— “When the boys ‘over thar’ give up all thet they hed Ter fite fer thirty bones per”— An’ I couldn’t ezzac’ly tell what ’e nex’ said, Fer ’is comb hed ketched in a burr.