Well, Mother screwed up her courage to ask if Frank was still living and Mrs. Hartsell took her over to where they was pitching horseshoes and there was old Frank, waiting his turn. And he knowed Mother as soon as he seen her, though it was over fifty years. He said he knowed her by her eyes. “Why, it’s Lucy Frost!” he says, and he throwed down his shoes and quit the game. Then they come over and hunted me up and I will confess I wouldn’t of knowed him. Him and I is the same age to the month, but he seems to show it more, some way. He is balder for one thing. And his beard is all white, where mine has still got a streak of brown in it. The very first thing I said to him, I said: “Well, Frank, that beard of yours makes me feel like I was back north. It looks like a regular blizzard.” “Well,” he said, “I guess yourn would be just as white if you had it dry cleaned.” But Mother wouldn’t stand that. “Is that so!” she said to Frank. “Well, Charley ain’t had no tobacco in his mouth for over ten years!” And I ain’t! Well, I excused myself from the checker game and it was pretty close to noon, so we decided to all have dinner together and they was nothing for it only we must try their cafeteria on Third Avenue. It was a little more expensive than ours and not near as good, I thought. I and Mother had about the same dinner we had been having every day and our bill was $1.10. Frank’s check was $1.20 for he and his wife. The same meal wouldn’t of cost them more than a dollar at our place. After dinner we made them come up to our house and we all set in the parlor, which the young woman had give us the use of to entertain company. We begun talking over old times and Mother said she was a-scared Mrs. Hartsell would find it tiresome listening to we three talk over old times, but as it turned out they wasn’t much chance for nobody else to talk with Mrs. Hartsell in the company. I have heard lots of women that could go it, but Hartsell’s wife takes the cake of all the women I ever seen. She told us the family history of everybody in the State of Michigan and bragged for a half hour about her son, who she said is in the drug business in Grand Rapids, and a Rotarian. When I and Hartsell could get a word in edgeways we joked one another back and forth and I chafed him about being a horse doctor. “Well, Frank,” I said, “you look pretty prosperous, so I suppose they’s been plenty of glanders around Hillsdale.” “Well,” he said, “I’ve managed to make more than a fair living. But I’ve worked pretty hard.” “Yes,” I said, “and I suppose you get called out all hours of the night to attend births and so on.” Mother made me shut up.