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I’ve made up my mind, and nothing you can say will change it.

—[Shaking his finger at, in a cold rage.] You know I’m speakin’ truth—that’s why you’re afraid to argy! You lie when you say you want to go ’way—and see things! You ain’t got no likin’ in the world to go. Your place is right here on this farm—the place you was born to by nature—and you can’t tell me no different. I’ve watched you grow up, and I know your ways, and they’re my ways. You’re runnin’ against your own nature, and you’re goin’ to be a’mighty sorry for it if you do. You’re tryin’ to pretend to me something that don’t fit in with your make-up, and it’s damn fool pretendin’ if you think you’re foolin’ me. ’S if I didn’t know your real reason for runnin’ away! And runnin’ away’s the only words to fit it. You’re runnin’ away ’cause you’re put out and riled ’cause your own brother’s got Ruth ’stead o’ you, and

—[His face crimson—tensely.] Stop, Pa! I won’t stand hearing that—not even from you!

—[Rushing to and putting her arms about him protectingly.] Don’t mind him, Andy dear. He don’t mean a word he’s saying! [ stands rigidly, his hands clenched, his face contracted by pain. sits dumbfounded and open-mouthed.  soothes his mother who is on the verge of tears.]

—[In angry triumph.] It’s the truth, Andy