"Too much of P'lena's mince pie ?" "No," grunted Mr.Gott shortly.
"What is it, then?
Ain't paint sellin' well ?" "Sellin' well 'nough.

I could sell a hundred ton of paint to-morrow, more'n likely, but when it come to gittin' the money for it, that would be another story.

If folks would pay their bills there wouldn't be no trouble." "Who's stuck you now ?" "I don't s'pose anybody has, but it's just as bad when they don't pay up.

I've got to have money to keep a-goin' with.

It don't make no diff'rence if it's as good a customer as Major Hardee; he ought to remember that we ain't all rich like him and--" A general movement among all the club members interrupted him.