He helped set up things in the town square. Mr. Wortham was quite thankful for his help.
" My back's been hurtin' somethin' bad these days," he complained while Henry was tying up streamers of colored fabric.
" What was that?" Henry asked, concentrated.
" I said, my back's been hurtin' somethin' bad these days!" Mr. Wortham hollered. " I keep sayin' it's cos it's gonna storm! But Polly keeps sayin', can it old man, there ain't gonna be no storm!"
" It's not going to storm any time soon, Mr. Wortham," Henry called down to him, climbing down the ladder.
" Don't jinx the devil in his own house," Mr. Wortham warned. " Bones don't lie; there's gonna be a storm."
" Oh, can it, you old man," Mrs. Wortham complained, coming up with a tray of hot tea. She turned to Henry. " This is what you get when you marry for looks and not mind!"
Henry took a cup of tea she'd offered.
" Oh, don't be so hard on him, Mrs. Wortham," he said.
" Pah, ole biddy couldn't live without me," her husband griped. " Let her complain, it's all she knows how to do."