The old farmer passed by every hour or so. George wondered if the tobacco juice might sprout and interfere with the pumpkin plants. He was just finishing at about four when he heard the familiar slurring shout.
'George! Git on home, got food and you gonna cook it, damn' sure your momma won't.'
'Gotta finish here, or I won't get the food Bruin promised.'
'Don't need it, boy! Tole you I got some at home.'
'Ain't seen you in six days. I'll finish up here if it's all the same.'