CATHERINE.  You promised not to—­

PETER.  I want to see a long, long table with plenty of young people.

CATHERINE.  I’ll leave the room, Uncle.

PETER.  With myself at the head, carving, carving, carving, watching the plates come back, and back, and back. [As she is about to go.] There, there, not another word of this to-day.

The ’phone rings. JAMES re-enters and answers it.

JAMES.  Hello! [Turns.] Rochester asks for Mr. Peter Grimm to the ’phone. 
Another message from Hicks’ greenhouses.

PETER.  Ask them to excuse me.

JAMES. [Bluntly.] You’ll have to excuse him. [Listens.] No, no, the gardens are not in the market.  You’re only wasting your time.

PETER.  Tc!  Tc!  James!  Can’t you say it politely? [JAMES listens at ’phone.

FREDERIK. [Aside to PETER.] James is so painfully blunt. [Then changing.] Is it—­er—­a good offer?  Is Hicks willing to make it worth while? [Catching his uncle’s astonished eye—­apologetically.] Of course, I know you wouldn’t think of—­

CATHERINE.  I should say not!  My home?  An offer? Our gardens?  I should say not!

FREDERIK.  Mere curiosity on my part, that’s all.

PETER.  Of course, I understand.  Sell out?  No indeed.  We are thinking of the next generation.

FREDERIK.  Certainly, sir.

PETER.  We’re the last of the family.  The business—­that’s Peter Grimm.  It will soon be Frederik Grimm.  The love for the old gardens is in our blood.

FREDERIK.  It is, sir. [Lays a fond hand on PETER’S shoulder.

PETER. [Struck.] I have an idea.  We’ll print the family history in our new floral almanac.

FREDERIK. [Suppressing a yawn.] Yes, yes, a very good idea.

PETER.  Katie, read it to us and let us hear how it sounds.

CATHERINE. [Reads.] “In the spring of 1709 there settled on Quassick Creek, New York State, Johann Grimm, aged twenty-two, husbandman and vine-dresser, also Johanna, his wife.”

PETER.  Very interesting.

FREDERIK.  Very interesting, indeed.

CATHERINE.  “To him Queen Anne furnished one square, one rule, one compass, two whipping saws and several small pieces.  To him was born—­”

PETER. [Interrupting.] You left out two augurs.

CATHERINE. [Reads.] Oh, yes—­“and two augurs.  To him was born a son—­”

PETER. [Who knows the history by heart, has listened, his eyes almost suffused—­repeating each word to himself, as she reads.  He has lived over each generation down to the present and nods in approval as she reaches this point.] The foundation of our house.  And here we are prosperous and flourishing—­after seven generations.  We’ll print it, eh, Fritz?

FREDERIK.  Certainly, sir.  By all means let us print it.