“No,” the second said. “Not there.” They looked at my clothes. “You looking for work?”
“How about Bigelow’s Mill?” the third said. “That’s a factory.”
“Factory my eye. He means a sure enough factory.”
“One with a whistle,” I said. “I havent heard any one oclock whistles yet.”
“Oh,” the second said. “There’s a clock in the Unitarian steeple. You can find out the time from that. Havent you got a watch on that chain?”
“I broke it this morning.” I showed them my watch. They examined it gravely.
“It’s still running,” the second said. “What does a watch like that cost?”
“It was a present,” I said. “My father gave it to me when I graduated from high school.”
“Are you a Canadian?” the third said. He had red hair.
“Canadian?”
“He dont talk like them,” the second said. “I’ve heard them talk. He talks like they do in minstrel shows.”
“Say,” the third said, “Aint you afraid he’ll hit you?”
“Hit me?”
“You said he talks like a coloured man.”
“Ah, dry up,” the second said. “You can see the steeple when you get over that hill there.”