A great lazy lubber like him, living on his mother!" and Mr.Hardhand looked contemptuously at Bobby.
"I am not a lazy lubber," interposed the insulted boy with spirit.
"Yes, you are.

Why don't you go to work ?" "I do work." "No, you don't; you waste your time paddling in the river." "I don't." "You had better teach this boy manners too, marm," said the creditor, who, like all men of small souls, was willing to take advantage of the power which the widow's indebtedness gave him.

"He is saucy." "I should like to know who taught _you_ manners, Mr.Hardhand," replied Bobby, whose indignation was rapidly getting the better of his discretion.
"What!" growled Mr.Hardhand, aghast at this unwonted boldness.
"I heard what you said before I came in; and no decent man would go to the house of a poor woman to insult her." "Humph! Mighty fine," snarled the little old man, his gray eyes twinkling with malice.
"Don't, Bobby; don't be saucy to the gentleman," interposed his mother.
"Saucy, marm?
You ought to horsewhip him for it.

If you don't, I will." "No, you won't!" replied Bobby, shaking his head significantly.

"I can take care of myself." "Did any one ever hear such impudence!" gasped Mr.Hardhand.
"Don't, Bobby, don't," pleaded the anxious mother.
"I should like to know what right you have to come here and abuse my mother," continued Bobby, who could not restrain his anger.
"Your mother owes me money, and she doesn't pay it, you young scoundrel!" answered Mr.Hardhand, foaming with rage.
"That is no reason why you should insult her.