ANDREW. (seeing ROBERT has not noticed his presence—in a loud shout) Hey there! (ROBERT turns with a start. Seeing who it is, he smiles) Gosh, you do take the prize for daydreaming! And I see you’ve toted one of the old books along with you. (He crosses the ditch and sits on the fence near his brother) What is it this time—poetry, I’ll bet. (He reaches for the book) Let me see.
ROBERT. (handing it to him rather reluctantly) Look out you don’t get it full of dirt.
ANDREW. (glancing at his hands) That isn’t dirt—it’s good clean earth. (He turns over the pages. His eyes read something and he gives an exclamation of disgust) Hump! (With a provoking grin at his brother he reads aloud in a doleful, sing-song voice) “I have loved wind and light and the bright sea. But holy and most sacred night, not as I love and have loved thee.” (He hands the book back) Here! Take it and bury it. I suppose it’s that year in college gave you a liking for that kind of stuff. I’m darn glad I stopped at High School, or maybe I’d been crazy too. (He grins and slaps ROBERT on the back affectionately) Imagine me reading poetry and plowing at the same time! The team’d run away, I’ll bet.
ROBERT. (laughing) Or picture me plowing.
ANDREW. You should have gone back to college last fall, like I know you wanted to. You’re fitted for that sort of thing—just as I ain’t.
ROBERT. You know why I didn’t go back, Andy. Pa didn’t like the idea, even if he didn’t say so; and I know he wanted the money to use improving the farm. And besides, I’m not keen on being a student, just because you see me reading books all the time. What I want to do now is keep on moving so that I won’t take root in any one place.
ANDREW. Well, the trip you’re leaving on tomorrow will keep you moving all right. (At this mention of the trip they both fall silent. There is a pause. Finally ANDREW goes on, awkwardly, attempting to speak casually) Uncle says you’ll be gone three years.
ROBERT. About that, he figures.
ANDREW. (moodily) That’s a long time.
ROBERT. Not so long when you come to consider it. You know the Sunda sails around the Horn for Yokohama first, and that’s a long voyage on a sailing ship; and if we go to any of the other places Uncle Dick mentions—India, or Australia, or South Africa, or South America—they’ll be long voyages, too.