and come and take a hand of chat along with me.

Mary What, and leave my work? Why, when you first came here,
you thought I could not be too industrious.

Asa Well, I think so yet, Miss Mary, but I've got a heap to say to you,
and I never can talk while you're moving about so spry among them pans,
pails and cheeses. First you raise one hand and then the other,
and well, it takes the gumption right our of me.

Mary [Brings sewing down.] Well, then, I'll sit here--
[sits on bench with Asa, vis-a-vis.] Well now, will that do?

Asa Well, no, Miss Mary, that won't do, neither; them eyes of yourn
takes my breath away.

Mary What will I do, then?

Asa Well, I don't know, Miss Mary, but, darn me, if you could do
anything that wasn't so tarnal neat and handsome, that a fellow
would want to keep on doing nothing else all the time.

Mary Well, then, I'll go away. [Rises.]

Asa [Stopping her.] No, don't do that, Miss Mary, for then
I'll be left in total darkness. [She sits.] Somehow I feel kinder lost,
if I haven't got you to talk to. Now that I've got the latitude
and longitude of all them big folks, found out the length
of every lady's foot, and the soft spot on everybody's head,
they can't teach me nothing; but here, [Whittling.] here I come to school.