"Got any money salted down that needs turning?"

"Looander! Quit teasing of him!"

"Let him have his fun, ma'am. It's all he's likely to get out of me. I
have got a little money," he pursued. "'T would be an insult to name it in
the same breath with what you've done for me. I'd like to leave it here,
though. You could pass it on. You'll have chances enough. 'T ain't likely
I'll be the last one you'll take in and do for, and never git nothing out
of it in return."

There was a mild sensation, as the speaker, fumbling in his loose trousers,
appeared to be seeking for that money. Aunt Polly's eyes flamed indignation
behind her tears. She was a foolish, warm-hearted creature, and her eyes
watered on the least excuse.

"Looander, you shouldn't have taunted him," she admonished her husband,
who felt he had been a little rough.

"Look here, Uncle John, d'you ever know anybody who wasn't by way of
needing help some time in their lives? We don't ask any one who comes
here"--

"He didn't come!" Aunt Polly corrected.

"Well, who was brought, then! We don't ask for their character, nor their
private history, nor their bank account. I don't know but you're the first
one for years I've ever took a real personal shine to, and we've h'isted a
good many up them stairs that wasn't able to walk much further. I'd like