Well, Mr Morton, I hope this is not a
bad time for me to--present a little matter to you?
SILAS: (_genially_) That depends, of course, on what you're going to
present. (_attracted by a sound outside_) Mind if I present a little
matter to your horse? Like to uncheck him so's he can geta a bit
o'grass.
SMITH: Why--yes. I suppose he would like that.
SILAS: (_going out_) You bet he'd like it. Wouldn't you, old boy?
SMITH: Your son is fond of animals.
GRANDMOTHER: Lots of people's fond of 'em--and good to 'em. Silas--I
dunno, it's as if he was that animal.
FEJEVARY: He has imagination.
GRANDMOTHER: (_with surprise_) Think so?
SILAS: (_returning and sitting down at the table by the young man_) Now,
what's in your mind, my boy?
SMITH: This town is growing very fast, Mr Morton.
SILAS: Yes. (_slyly--with humour_) I know that.
SMITH: I presume you, as one of the early settlers--as in fact a son of
the earliest settler, feel a certain responsibility about the welfare
of--
SILAS: I haven't got in mind to do the town a bit of harm. So--what's
your point?
SMITH: More people--more homes. And homes must be in the healthiest
places--the--the most beautiful places. Isn't it true, Mr Fejevary, that
it means a great deal to people to have a beautiful outlook from their
homes? A--well, an expanse.
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