"Ef he does not brag much, ye see, I kin offer him small wages,"
said Dan'l, with a wink. "It's kinder takin' him at his own
figger."

"And THAT mightn't pay! But ye don't think o' bringin' him HERE in
this house? 'Cept you're thinkin' o' tellin' him that yarn o'
yours about the hoss trade to beguile the winter evenings. I told
ye ye'd hev to pay yet to get folks to listen to it."

"Wrong agin--ez you'll see! Wot ef I get a hundred thousand folks
to pay me for tellin' it? But, speakin' o' this young feller, I
calkilated to send him to the Turkey Buzzard Hotel;" and he looked
at his sister with a shrewd yet humorous smile.

"What!" said his sister in alarm. "The Turkey Buzzard! Why, he'll
be starved or pizoned! He won't stay there a week."

"Ef he's pizoned to death he won't be able to demand any wages; ef
he leaves because he can't stand it--it's proof positive he
couldn't stand me. Ef he's only starved and made weak and
miserable he'll be easy to make terms with. It may seem hard what
I'm sayin', but what seems hard on the other feller always comes
mighty easy to you. The thing is NOT to be the 'other feller.' Ye
ain't listenin'. Yet these remarks is shrewd and humorous, and hez
bin thought so by literary fellers."

"H'm!" said his sister. "What's that ye was jest sayin' about folks
bein' willin' to pay ye for tellin' that hoss trade yarn o' yours?"