“That’s it—that’s it. Now tell how it is with us.”
“Guys like us, that work on ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no fambly. They don’t belong no place. They come to a ranch an’ work up a stake and then they go into town and blow their stake, and the first thing you know they’re poundin’ their tail on some other ranch. They ain’t got nothing to look ahead to.”
“But not us! An’ why? Because . . . . because I got you to look after me, and you got me to look after you, and that’s why. Go on now, George!”
“With us it ain’t like that. We got a future. We got somebody to talk to that gives a damn about us. We don’t have to sit-in no bar room blowin’ in our jack jus’ because we got no place else to go. If them other guys gets in jail they can rot for all anybody gives a damn. But not us.”
“No, you. I forget some a’ the things. Tell about how it’s gonna be.”
“You got it by heart. You can do it yourself.”
“An’ live off the fatta the lan’, An’ have rabbits. Go on, George! Tell about what we’re gonna have in the garden and about the rabbits in the cages and about the rain in the winter and the stove, and how thick the cream is on the milk like you can hardly cut it. Tell about that, George”
“O.K. Someday—we’re gonna get the jack together and we’re gonna have a little house and a couple of acres an’ a cow and some pigs and—”
“No . . . . you tell it. It ain’t the same if I tell it. Go on . . . . George. How I get to tend the rabbits.”
“Why’n’t you do it yourself? You know all of it.”
"I ain't gonna . . . say a word."
"Well, we’ll have a big vegetable patch and a rabbit hutchand chickens. And when it rains in the winter, we’ll just say the hell with goin’to work, and we’ll build up a fire in the stove and set around it an’ listen to therain comin’ down on the roof—Nuts! I ain’t gottime for no more!"