and it knowed everything. So I went to him that night and told him pap was here again,eve isk, for I found
his tracks in the snow. What I wanted to know was, what he was going to do, and was he going to
stay? Jim got out his hair-ball and said something over it, and then he held it up and dropped it on
the floor. It fell pretty solid, and only rolled about an inch. Jim tried it again, and then another
time, and it acted just the same. Jim got down on his knees, and put his ear against it and listened.
But it warn’t no use; he said it wouldn’t talk. He said sometimes it wouldn’t talk without money. I
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told him I had an old slick counterfeit quarter that warn’t no good because the brass showed
through the silver a little, and it wouldn’t pass nohow, even if the brass didn’t show, because it was
so slick it felt greasy, and so that would tell on it every time. (I reckoned I wouldn’t say nothing
about the dollar I got from the judge.) I said it was pretty bad money, but maybe the hair-ball
would take it, because maybe it wouldn’t know the difference. Jim smelt it and bit it and rubbed it,
and said he would manage so the hair-ball would think it was good. He said he would split open a
raw Irish potato and stick the quarter in between and keep it there all night, and next morning you
couldn’t see no brass,buy rs gold, and it wouldn’t feel greasy no more,cheap warcraft gold, and so anybody in town would take it in
a minute, let alone a hair-ball. Well, I knowed a potato would do that before, but I had forgot it.
Jim put the quarter under the hair-ball, and got down and listened again. This time he said the hair-
ball was all right. He said it would tell my whole fortune if I wanted it to. I says, go on. So the
hair-ball talked to Jim, and Jim told it to me. He says:
“Yo’ ole father doan’ know yit what he’s a-gwyne to do. Sometimes he spec he’ll go ‘way, en den
agin he spec he’ll stay. De bes’ way is to res’ easy en let de ole man take his own way. Dey’s two
angels hoverin’ roun’ ’bout him. One uv ‘em is white en shiny, en t’other one is black. De white one
gits him to go right a little while,rs gold, den de black one sail in en bust it all up. A body can’t tell yit
which one gwyne to fetch him at de las’. But you is all right. You gwyne to have considable
trouble in yo’ life, en considable joy. Sometimes you gwyne to git hurt, en sometimes you gwyne
to git sick; but every time you’s gwyne to git well agin. Dey’s two gals flyin’ ’bout you in yo’ life.
One uv ‘em’s light en t’other one is dark. One is rich en t’other is po’. You’s gwyne to marry de po’
one fust en de rich one by en by. You wants to keep ‘way fum de water as much as you kin, en
don’t run no resk, ‘kase it’s down in de bills dat you’s gwyne to git hung.”