Seth. Jest as though yuh an' me wasn't alive.
Lon. We'd a given him our last pipeful.
Seth. His own flesh an' blood.
Lon. Why, he told me more 'an a thousand times he hated Ma.
Seth. She don't need it.
Lon. She's ready fur the grave-yard.
Seth. She's that stingy, cuttin' an' choppin' wood, sellin it t' the city folks. We might a knowd.
Lon. An' me a comin' all the three miles an' a quarter t' see him a fore he died.
Seth. I been settin' here two days a waitin'.
Lon. An' then t' treat us like that. [Wipes his mouth.] Why, the hull place ain't worth a damn!