“Do I get paid, too?''Yes,' he said without hesitation. This scared me, because Crawley gave money like bulls gave milk: not at all, and you get gored for asking. If he had already decided this was a paying job, it must be horrible beyond words.”

“Why are you hunting down Noah?”Without hesitation, he gave me an answer that made the world tilt under my feet.“He took a piece of you. I’m gonna findhim and get it back.”

“What good does it do a black youth to know that an employer must pay him $2 an hour if the fact that he must be paid that amount is what keeps him from getting a job?”

“Yes. Weary.” He eyed me speculatively, smoothing his beard with a hand. “You have a gift for words.It’s one of the reasons you ended up with Elodin, I expect.”I didn’t say anything to that. I must have said it quite loudly too, because Dal gave me a curious look.“How are your studies progressing with Elodin?” he asked casually.”

“Asil has appointed himself my guardian?" asked Charles softly. Asil was overstepping himself. "He was bored, he told me," said his father. He gave Charles a small smile. "I have given him a job so he doesn’t get bored again.”

“In the evening they went to say good-bye to Bilbo. 'Well, if you must go, you must,' he said. 'I am sorry. I shall miss you. It is nice just to know that you are about the place. But I am getting very sleepy.' Then he gave Frodo his mithril-coat and Sting, forgetting that he had already done so; and he gave him also three books of lore that he had made at various times, written in his spidery hand, and labelled on their red backs: Translations from the Elvish, by B. B.”