CHRIS--[Sits down beside her with a sigh.] It's gatting pooty late in night, Anna. Must be near five bells. ANNA--[Interestedly.] Five bells? What time is that? CHRIS--Half past ten. ANNA--Funny I don't know nothing about sea talk--but those cousins was always talking crops and that stuff. Gee, wasn't I sick of it--and of them! CHRIS--You don't like live on farm, Anna? ANNA--I've told you a hundred times I hated it. [Decidedly.] I'd rather have one drop of ocean than all the farms in the world! Honest! And you wouldn't like a farm, neither. Here's where you belong. [She makes a sweeping gesture seaward.] But not on a coal barge. You belong on a real ship, sailing all over the world. CHRIS--[Moodily.] Ay've done dat many year, Anna, when Ay vas damn fool. ANNA--[Disgustedly.] Oh, rats! [After a pause she speaks musingly.] Was the men in our family always sailors--as far back as you know about? CHRIS--[Shortly.] Yes. Damn fools! All men in our village on coast, Sveden, go to sea. Ain't nutting else for dem to do. My fa'der die on board ship in Indian Ocean. He's buried at sea. Ay don't never know him only little bit. Den my tree bro'der, older'n me, dey go on ships. Den Ay go, too. Den my mo'der she's left all 'lone. She die pooty quick after dat--all 'lone. Ve vas all avay on voyage when she die. [He pauses sadly.] Two my bro'der dey gat lost on fishing boat same like your bro'ders vas drowned. My oder bro'der, he save money, give up sea, den he die home in bed. He's only one dat ole davil don't kill. [Defiantly.] But me, Ay bet you Ay die ashore in bed, too! ANNA--Were all of 'em yust plain sailors? CHEIS--Able body seaman, most of dem. [With a certain pride.] Dey vas all smart seaman, too--A one. [Then after hesitating a moment--shyly.] Ay vas bo'sun. ANNA--Bo'sun? CHRIS--Dat's kind of officer. ANNA--Gee, that was fine. What does he do? CHRIS--[After a second's hesitation, plunged into gloom again by his fear of her enthusiasm.] Hard vork all time. It's rotten, Ay tal you, for go to sea. [Determined to disgust her with sea life--volubly.] Dey're all fool fallar, dem fallar in our family. Dey all vork rotten yob on sea for nutting, don't care nutting but yust gat big pay day in pocket, gat drunk, gat robbed, ship avay again on oder voyage. Dey don't come home, Dey don't do anytang like good man do. And dat ole davil, sea, sooner, later she svallow dem up. ANNA--[With an excited laugh.] Good sports, I'd call 'em. [Then hastily.] But say--listen--did all the women of the family marry sailors? CHRIS--[Eagerly--seeing a chance to drive home his point.] Yes--and it's bad on dem like hell vorst of all. Dey don't see deir men only once in long while. Dey set and vait all 'lone. And vhen deir boys grows up, go to sea, dey sit and vait some more. [Vehemently.] Any gel marry sailor, she's crazy fool! Your mo'der she tal you same tang if she vas alive. [He relapses into an attitude of somber brooding.]