“It wont be the first time she has made their crop,” the man with the peach spray said. Ratliff glanced at him.
“You ought to know. This wont be the first time I ever saw you in their field, doing plowing Henry never got around to. How many days have you already given them this year?” The man with the peach spray removed it and spat carefully and put the spray back between his teeth.
“She can run a furrow straight as I can,” the second said.
“They’re unlucky,” the third said. “When you are unlucky, it dont matter much what you do.”
“Sholy,” Ratliff said. “I’ve heard laziness called bad luck so much that maybe it is.”
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