Yuh might jest as wall go home.
Lon. No, yuh don't! Yuh can't make me believe Pa's left it t' yuh. [Takes off his hat and mops his brow with his sleeve. The top of his head is very bald.]
Seth. Then what yuh gettin' so excited 'bout?
Lon. I ain't excited. [Puts his hat on.] It jest makes me mad 'cause yuh say Pa's left it t' yuh, an' I know he ain't. See? There warn't no call fur him t' heve willed an' testamented it t' yuh. Yuh've only yerself t' look after an' I've two motherless kids.
Seth. Every one knows how much Pa thought o' them.
Lon. It warn't my fault if they thumbed their noses at him.
Seth. Yuh could o' basted 'em.
Lon. They's like their Ma. Bastin' never done her no good, God rest her soul. All the same, Pa knowd how hard it is fur me t' keep their bellies full. Why, when we heve bread Alexander never wants less than half the loaf! An' all the work I gits t' do is what the city folks who come t' the Beach in the summer gives me.
Seth. Huh! Jest as though I didn't know 'bout yuh. Mr. Breckenridge told me yuh wouldn't even contract t' chop his wood fur him. An' there yuh sits all winter long in that God-fursaken shanty o' yourn, with trees all round yuh, an' yuh won't put an ax t' one 'til yer own fires dies out.
Lon. My back ain't never been strong. Choppin' puts the kinks in it. Yuh kin talk, yuh kin, Seth Polland, with a soft job at the fisheries an' three squares a day which yuh don't heve t' cook yourself. Nothin' t' do all winter but walk round them cottages an' see that no one broke in. An' I'm the one who knows how often yuh walk round them cottages. I wish I hed yer snap. [Sits.] But I ain't never had no luck.