Frau Heinecke. For they ain't too stuck up to come around and see us poor folks on the alley--Well, as I was saying, he throws his hat and coat on the floor--a real top hat--right down on the floor, mind you!--and he gets right down on his knees in front of me--well, I thought I was losing my mind, but when he calls out; "Mother, Father, don't you know me?--It's me, Robert, your son Robert"--Well, Frau Hebenstreit, it was just too good to be true! I'll never get over it! (_She cries_) Frau Hebenstreit. Don't get excited, neighbor; the pleasure won't last! Every rat has a head and tail--and a rat's tail is poison, they do say. Frau Heinecke. How can you say a thing like that! My son is a good son, a fine son. Frau Hebenstreit. Too fine, Frau Heinecke! When a person's been traveling around in all them foreign lands and living in silks and satins---- Frau Heinecke. He can have all that here--(_Indicating the silk upholstered chairs_) Frau Hebenstreit. (_With a grimace_) Yes, yes,--but whether he will or not---- Frau Heinecke. Whether he will or not, Frau Hebenstreit! A mother's heart don't reckon with rank and society!--And--Good Lord! Here I am a-standing--Where on earth can Heinecke be? Have you seen Heinecke?--The way he has to hobble along with his lame leg! Frau Hebenstreit. I saw him standing outside with a sign as big as all outdoors, drying his sign he said--and the thermometer at thirty above zero! Frau Heinecke. Let the old man enjoy himself. He was working on that sign half the night. Couldn't sleep a wink--neither of us--we was so happy---- (Heinecke _enters, limping, with a huge placard. One of his arms is stiff. _) Heinecke. Hurrah! Now we've---- Frau Heinecke. Will you be still! Heinecke. (_Reading the placard_) "Welcome, beloved son, to your father's house." Fine, eh? Frau Hebenstreit. Looks for all the world like a target! Heinecke. With a heart in the middle! You old--! Frau Heinecke. Hold your tongue!--(_To_ Frau Hebenstreit) You know how he is! (Heinecke _takes a hammer and tacks and climbs on chair to tack up the placard. _) Frau Hebenstreit. I wonder where your son got all his fine manners anyway? Not from _his_ family, did he? Frau Heinecke. No, nor mine either. It was seventeen years ago, when our boss on the avenue got his title of Councillor of Commerce--there was a great time: carriages and fireworkings and free beer for all the workmen in the factory. Well, my husband was a little bit full--and why not?--Pa, quit pounding! when it didn't cost nothing? Well, one of the carriages run over him,--broke his leg and his arm! Heinecke. (_Standing on the stool_) Talking about me? Yes, that wasn't no joke, neither! (_Whistles_)