No answer.
“Ma, won't you let me go? I won't get drowned, hope to die if I do. Ma, won't you let me go? Ma! Ma-a!—Maw-ah!”
“Stop yelling at me that way. Good land! Do you think I'm deaf?”
“Won't you let me go? Please, won't you let—”
“No, I won't. I told you I wouldn't, and I mean it. You might as well make up your mind to stay at home, for you're—not—going. Hush up now. This instant, sir! Robbie, do you hear me? Stop crying. Great baby! wouldn't be ashamed to cry that way, as big as you are!”
Mean old Ma! Guess she'd cry too'f she could see the other kids that waited for him to go and ask her—if she could see them moving off, tired of waiting. They're 'most up to Lincoln Avenue.
“Oooooooooooo-hoo—hoo—hoo—hoohoooooooooo-ah! I wanna gow-ooooo.”
“Did you hoe that corn your father told you to?”
“Oooooooooooo-hoo-hoo-hoo-oooooooo! I wanna gow-ooooooo.”
“Robbie! Did you hoe that corn?”