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always to have her nose in a book when I was a kid; but she seems to have given it up of late years.

—[With a trace of bitterness.] The farm has claimed her in spite of herself. That’s what I’m afraid it might do to me in time; and that’s why I feel I ought to get away. [Fearing he has hurt Andrew’s feelings.] You musn’t misunderstand me, Andy. For you it’s a different thing. You’re a Mayo through and through. You’re wedded to the soil. You’re as much a product of it as an ear of corn is, or a tree. Father is the same. This farm is his life-work, and he’s happy in knowing that another Mayo, inspired by the same love, will take up the work where he leaves off. I can understand your attitude, and Pa’s; and I think it’s wonderful and sincere. But I—well, I’m not made that way.

—No, you ain’t; but when it comes to understanding, I guess I realize that you’ve got your own angle of looking at things.

—[Musingly.] I wonder if you do, really.

—[Confidently.] Sure I do. You’ve seen a bit of the world, enough to make the farm seem small, and you’ve got the itch to see it all.

—It’s more than that, Andy.

—Oh, of course. I know you’re going to learn navigation, and all about a ship, so’s you can be an officer. That’s natural, too. There’s fair pay in it, I expect, when you consider that you’ve always got a home and grub thrown in; and if you’re set on