His search for money had been defeated by the widow's caution, and the whisky craving was being felt anew.
"Good morning," said Grey.

"You seem to be the only man here with nothing to do." "Yes, sir.

I've been sick, and am not quite fit to work.

Sickness is hard on a working man, sir." Grey, a kindly person, put his hand in his pocket, "Quite right, it is hard.

How are the people here going to vote?
I hope the good old ticket." "Oh! Buchanan and Breckenridge, sir, except one or two and the darkey barber.