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«
All
week
,
Mis
’
Bullitt
.
We
couldn
’
he
’
p
it
.
You
know
I
got
five
girls
.
»
«
What
they
been
a
-
doin
’
with
it
?
»
Jessie
demanded
ominously
.
«
Jes
’
usin
’
it
.
Hones
’
,
jes
’
usin
’
it
.
»
«
They
ain
’
t
got
the
right
!
Four
-
five
sheets
is
enough
.
What
’
s
the
matter
’
th
’
em
?
»
The
confessor
bleated
,
«
Skitters
.
All
five
of
’
em
.
We
been
low
on
money
.
They
et
green
grapes
.
They
all
five
got
the
howlin
’
skitters
.
Run
out
ever
’
ten
minutes
.
»
She
defended
them
,
«
But
they
ain
’
t
stealin
’
it
.
»
Jessie
sighed
.
«
You
should
a
tol
’
,
"
she
said
.
«
You
got
to
tell
.
Here
’
s
Unit
Four
sufferin
’
shame
’
cause
you
never
tol
’
.
Anybody
can
git
the
skitters
.
»
The
meek
voice
whined
,
«
I
jes
’
can
’
t
keep
’
em
from
eatin
’
them
green
grapes
.
An
’
they
’
re
a
-
gettin
’
worse
all
a
time
.
»
Ella
Summers
burst
out
,
«
The
Aid
.
She
oughta
git
the
Aid
.
»
«
Ella
Summers
,
"
Jessie
said
,
«
I
’
m
a
-
tellin
’
you
for
the
las
’
time
,
you
ain
’
t
the
Chair
.
»
She
turned
back
to
the
raddled
little
woman
.
«
Ain
’
t
you
got
no
money
,
Mis
’
Joyce
?
»
