They've
gone down to dam the creek, I guess. This young man's been waiting to
see you, Silas.
SMITH: Yes, I wanted to have a little talk with you.
SILAS: Well, why not? (_he is tying the gay balloons to his gun, then as
he talks, hangs his hat in the corner closet_) We've been having a
little talk ourselves. Mother, Nat Rice was there. I've not seen Nat
Rice since the day we had to leave him on the road with his torn
leg--him cursing like a pirate. I wanted to bring him home, but he had
to go back to Chicago. His wife's dead, mother.
GRANDMOTHER: Well, I guess she's not sorry.
SILAS: Why, mother.
GRANDMOTHER: 'Why, mother.' Nat Rice is a mean, stingy, complaining
man--his leg notwithstanding. Where'd you leave the folks?
SILAS: Oh--scattered around. Everybody visitin' with anybody that'll
visit with them. Wish you could have gone.
GRANDMOTHER: I've heard it all. (_to_ FEJEVARY) Your folks well?
FEJEVARY: All well, Mrs Morton. And my boy Felix is home. He'll stop in
here to see you by and by.
SILAS: Oh, he's a fine-looking boy, mother. And think of what he knows!
(_cordially including the young man_) Mr Fejevary's son has been to
Harvard College.
SMITH: Well, well--quite a trip.
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