Page:O'Higgins--From the life.djvu/274

 Ben controlled himself, in a white rage. Matt lit his pipe deliberately.

"You folks that make money call us failures. You're the failures." He puffed. "You remind me of the bees in a hive—workin' yerselves to death to store up honey that's no use to you. The bumblebee's got more horse sense. When it gets enough fer its family it's satisfied. You tell me I'm lazy because I'd sooner be a bumblebee. An' I tell you you're just sort o' foolish."

Ben said, sneeringly, "I'd like to buy you at my price and sell you at yours."

Matt nodded. "You can't buy what ain't fer sale. That's been your trouble right along. You've been so busy gettin' money you haven't got any o' the things that money can't buy—the things that 're worth more than money. You're a failure, Ben. I'm sorry fer you. That's the feelin' I have. I'm sorry fer you."

"Is that all? Is that all you have to say?"

Matt took up his rod again. "That 'll do me." "Good." Ben stretched out his arms to bare his wrists like a man about to deal cards. "Now," he said, in a cold passion, "listen to me. There were some people over on the other side of the lake last summer. They used to row over here to get milk and eggs and so forth from you. Do you remember?"

Matt nodded.

"They complained to your wife one day about