Chapter 27

           Cottonpickerswanted—placardsontheroad,handbillsout,orange-coloredhandbills—CottonPickersWanted.Here,upthisroad,itsays.Thedarkgreenplantsstringynow,andtheheavybollsclutchedinthepod.Whitecottonspillingoutlikepopcorn.Liketogetourhandsonthebolls.Tenderly,withthefingertips.I’magoodpicker.Here’stheman,righthere.Iaimtopicksomecotton.Gotabag?Well,no,Iain’t.Costyaadollar,thebag.Takeitouto’yourfirsthunderdandfifty.Eightycentsahunderdfirsttimeoverthefield.Ninetycentssecondtimeover.Getyourbagthere.Onedollar.’Fyouain’tgotthebuck,we’lltakeitoutofyourfirsthunderdandfifty.That’sfair,andyouknowit.

           Sureit’sfair.Goodcottonbag,lastallseason.An’whenshe’sworeout,draggin’,turn’eraroun’,usetheotherend.Sewuptheopenend.Openuptheworeend.Andwhenbothendsisgone,why,that’snicecloth!Makesanicepairasummerdrawers.Makesnightshirts.Andwell,hell—acottonbag’sanicething.

           Hangitaroundyourwaist.Straddleit,dragitbetweenyourlegs.Shedragslightatfirst.Andyourfingertipspickoutthefluff,andthehandsgotwistingintothesackbetweenyourlegs.Kidscomealongbehind;gotnobagsforthekids—useagunnysackorputitinyourol’man’sbag.Shehangsheavy,some,now.Leanforward,hoist’eralong.I’magoodhandwithcotton.Finger-wise,boll-wise.Jes’movealongtalkin’,an’maybesingin’tillthebaggetsheavy.Fingersgorighttoit.Fingersknow.