COREY. Well done, my men. You see, I lead the field! I'm an old man, but I can swing a scythe Better than most of you, though you be younger.
Hangs his scythe upon a tree.
GLOYD (aside to the others). How strong he is! It's supernatural. No man so old as he is has such strength. The Devil helps him!
COREY (wiping his forehead).
Now we'll rest awhile,
And take our nooning. What's the matter with you?
You are not angry with me,—are you, Gloyd?
Come, come, we will not quarrel. Let's be friends.
It's an old story, that the Raven said,
"Read the Third of Colossians and fifteenth."
GLOYD. You're handier at the scythe, but I can beat you At wrestling.
COREY.
Well, perhaps so. I don't know.
I never wrestled with you. Why, you're vexed!
Come, come, don't bear a grudge.
GLOYD.
You are afraid.
COREY. What should I be afraid of? All bear witness The challenge comes from him. Now, then, my man.
They wrestle, and GLOYD is thrown.
ONE OF THE MEN. That's a fair fall.