"Mr. Campbell might have had a right
to part of it, but he died and didn't leave any kin, so it
belongs to you."
"Suppose J. A. Lamb hired me to saw some wood," Adams said.
"Would the sticks belong to me?"
"He hasn't got any right to take your invention and bury it," she
protested. "What good is it doing him if he doesn't DO anything
with it? What good is it doing ANYBODY? None in the world! And
what harm would it do him if you went ahead and did this for
yourself and for your children? None in the world! And what
could he do to you if he WAS old pig enough to get angry with you
for doing it? He couldn't do a single thing, and you've admitted
he couldn't, yourself. So what's your reason for depriving your
children and your wife of the benefits you know you could give
'em?"
"Nothing but decency," he answered; and she had her reply ready
for that. It seemed to him that, strive as he would, he could
not reach her mind with even the plainest language; while
everything that she said to him, with such vehemence, sounded
like so much obstinate gibberish. Over and over he pressed her
with the same illustration, on the point of ownership, though he
thought he was varying it.
"Suppose he hired me to build him a house: would that be MY
house?"
"He didn't hire you to build him a house.
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