“I wish to goodness you had! I wouldn't be as I am to-day. There's that half acre—”
“To the diouol, I say, I pitch yourself an' your half acre! Why do you be comin' acrass me wid your half acre? Eh?—why do you?”
“Come now; don't be puttin' your hands agin your sides, an waggin' your impty head at me, like a rockin' stone.”
“An' why do you be aggravatin' at me wid your half acre?”
“Bekase I have a good right to do it. What'll become of it when I d—”
“——That for you an' it, you poor excuse!”
“When I di—”
“——That for you an' it, I say! That for you an' it, you atomy!”
“What'll become of my half acre when I die? Did you hear that?”
“You ought to think of what'll become of yourself, when you die; that's what you ought to think of; but little it throubles you, you sinful reprobate! Sure the neighbors despises you.”