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«
What
?
»
asked
Casy
.
«
Them
toes
of
yourn
.
»
«
Oh
!
Jus
’
settin
’
here
a
-
thinkin
’
.
»
«
You
always
get
good
an
’
comf
’
table
for
it
,
"
said
Tom
.
Casy
waggled
his
big
toe
up
and
his
second
toe
down
,
and
he
smiled
quietly
.
«
Hard
enough
for
a
fella
to
think
’
thout
kinkin
’
hisself
up
to
do
it
.
»
«
Ain
’
t
heard
a
peep
outa
you
for
days
,
"
said
Tom
.
«
Thinkin
’
all
the
time
?
»
«
Yeah
,
thinkin
’
all
the
time
.
»
Tom
took
off
his
cloth
cap
,
dirty
now
,
and
ruinous
,
the
visor
pointed
as
a
bird
’
s
beak
.
He
turned
the
sweat
band
out
and
removed
a
long
strip
of
folded
newspaper
.
«
Sweat
so
much
she
’
s
shrank
,
"
he
said
.
He
looked
at
Casy
’
s
waving
toes
.
«
Could
ya
come
down
from
your
thinkin
’
an
’
listen
a
minute
?
»
Casy
turned
his
head
on
the
stalk
-
like
neck
.
«
Listen
all
the
time
.
That
’
s
why
I
been
thinkin
’
.
Listen
to
people
a
-
talkin
’
,
an
’
purty
soon
I
hear
the
way
folks
are
feelin
’
.
Goin
’
on
all
the
time
.
I
hear
’
em
an
’
feel
’
em
;
an
’
they
’
re
beating
their
wings
like
a
bird
in
a
attic
.
Gonna
bust
their
wings
on
a
dusty
winda
tryin
’
ta
get
out
.
»
