Enough
The darky’s clothes were in the last stages of dilapidation, and he wore open work shoes, but his face was radiant, and he whistled merrily as he slouched along the street. A householder called from his porch:
“Sam, I have a job for you, if you want to earn a quarter.”
The tattered colored man grinned happily as he shook his head.
“No, suh, thank yoh all de same, boss—I done got a quarter.”