GRANDMOTHER: Keep a tavern? I guess we did. Every house is a tavern when houses are sparse. You think the way to settle a country is to go on ahead and build hotels? That's all you folks know. Why, I never went to bed without leaving something on the stove for the new ones that might be coming. And we never went away from home without seein' there was a-plenty for them that might stop. SMITH: They'd come right in and take your food? GRANDMOTHER: What else could they do? There was a woman I always wanted to know. She made a kind of bread I never had before--and left a-plenty for our supper when we got back with the ducks and berries. And she left the kitchen handier than it had ever been. I often wondered about her--where she came from, and where she went, (_as she dreams over this there is laughing and talking at the side of the house_) There come the boys. (MR FEJEVARY _comes in, followed by_ SILAS MORTON. _They are men not far from sixty, wearing their army uniforms, carrying the muskets they used in the parade_. FEJEVARY _has a lean, distinguished face, his dark eyes are penetrating and rather wistful. The left sleeve of his old uniform is empty_. SILAS MORTON _is a strong man who has borne the burden of the land, and not for himself alone--the pioneer. Seeing the stranger, he sets his musket against the wall and holds out his hand to him, as_ MR FEJEVARY _goes up to_ GRANDMOTHER MORTON.) SILAS: How do, stranger? FEJEVARY: And how are you today, Mrs Morton? GRANDMOTHER: I'm not abed--and don't expect to be. SILAS: (_letting go of the balloons he has bought_) Where's Ira? and Madeline? GRANDMOTHER: Mr Fejevary's Delia brought them home with her. 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. Well, Mr Morton, I hope this is not a bad time for me to--present a little matter to you?