stand my share of the hard work, I guess—and then some.
Mayo—That’s the way to talk, son. Work never done a man harm yet—leastways, not work done out in the open. [Robert has been trying to pretend an interest in their conversation, but he can’t help showing that it bores him. Andrew notices this.]
Andrew—But farming ain’t poetry, is it, Rob? [Robert smiles but remains silent.]
Mayo—[Seriously.] There’s more satisfaction in the earth than ever was in any book; and Robert’ll find it out sooner or later. [A twinkle comes into his eyes.] When he’s grown up and got some sense.
Robert—[Whimsically.] I’m never going to grow up—if I can help it.
Mayo—Time’ll tell. Well, I’ll be movin’ along home. Don’t you two stay gossipin’ too long. [He winks at Robert.] ’Specially you, Andy. Ruth and her Maw is comin’ to supper, and you’d best be hurryin’ to wash up and put on your best Sunday-go-to-meetin’ clothes. [He laughs. Robert’s face contracts as if he were wincing at some pain, but he forces a smile. Andrew grows confused and casts a quick side glance at his brother.]
Andrew—I’ll be along in a minute. Pa.
Mayo—And you, Robert, don’t you stay moonin’ at the sky longer’n is needful. You’ll get lots o’ time for that the next three years you’re out on the sea. Remember this is your last night to home, and you’ve got to make an early start tomorrow, [He hesitates,
