KATE.  Why do you have the dogs about?

MRS. VERNON.  Well, when you’ve lived as long as I have in Pike County, you’ll know you got to have dogs if you leave your winders open.  There—­I’ve ironed another pearl button in two—­yes, an’ it’s pulled a piece right out o’ one o’ yer pa’s bosoms.  That’s ’cause I’m so tired, I can’t see.  Lizbeth, where’s them prescriptions?

LIZBETH.  In the yeast-powder box.

MRS. VERNON.  Well, get one for me. [LIZBETH gets box from over the stove.] I can’t go on with this ironin’ without some beer.

LIZBETH.  Who’ll go for it?

MRS. VERNON.  Ask Dave—­

LIZBETH. [At door.  Calls.] Dave!

DAVE. [Off.] Yes, Lizbeth.

LIZBETH.  Ma wants you to—­

MRS. VERNON.  Now, don’t yawp it out to the whole neighbourhood,
Lizbeth—­tell Dave to come here.

LIZBETH. [In a lower tone.] Come here!

MRS. VERNON.  Give me the prescription. [LIZBETH arranges the linen in the basket.  Enter DAVE.] Dave, the ironin’ an’ the heat an’ everything jes’ about floored me—­won’t you go to the drug-store with this prescription, an’ get me a quart bottle of St. Louis beer?

DAVE. [Taking the prescription.] Certainly.

MRS. VERNON.  I can’t send the girls after dark.

DAVE.  Oh, that’s all right. [Exits to street.

MRS. VERNON. [Ironing again.] If your pa ever does get into the Legislature, I hope he’ll defeat this blamed local auction business.  It’s all well enough for those Salvation women who ain’t got a thing to do but pound tambourines, but if they had the washin’, and ironin’, an’ cookin’ to do for a fambly of six—­an’ three dogs—­they’d need something to keep body an’ soul together.

KATE. [Going to street door.] How much longer shall you iron to-night?

MRS. VERNON.  Why?  Do you want the room?

KATE.  Oh, no—­but—­

LIZBETH.  Is Travers coming to-night, Kate? [Sits in rocker.

KATE.  I don’t know who may come.

MRS. VERNON.  What difference does it make who does come?

KATE.  None, except that the room is filled with smoke and—­is hot.

MRS. VERNON.  Well, to my mind, Travers may as well get himself used to places that are hot and filled with smoke—­fur if he ain’t one of Old Nick’s own ones, I never see any—­

KATE.  Mother!!  Mr. Travers is a gentleman!

MRS. VERNON.  How do you know?  Four years to a female seminary don’t make you a better judge of gentlemen than us who stay to home here.  Your pa’s a gentleman if he is a wheelwright—­so is Jim Radburn—­

LIZBETH.  And Dave—­

MRS. VERNON.  Yes, and Dave—­

KATE.  But none of them is like Mr. Travers.

MRS. VERNON.  No, thank God they ain’t.  Travers, Kate—­[Pause] Travers—­[Pause] and, mind you, I’ve seen men before you was born—­Travers is as much like a gambler as any I ever saw.