A young boy about 12 opened the door.
"Is yer paw home?" the farmer asked.
"No sir, he ain't," the boy replied. "He went into town."
"Well, said the farmer, is yer maw here?"
"No, sir, she ain't here neither. She went into town with paw."
"How about your brother, Howard? Is he here?"
"He went with maw and paw."
The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself.
"Is there anything I can do fer ya?" the boy asked politely. "I knows where all the tools are, if you want to borry one. Or maybe I could take a message fer paw."
"Well," said the farmer uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to yer paw. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter, Pearly Mae, pregnant."
The boy considered for a moment.
"You would have to talk to Pa about that," he finally conceded. "If it helps you any, I know that Pa charges $50 for the bull and $25 for the hog, but I really don't know how much he gets fer Howard."
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