Mr. Benson
Has been rubbing his feet, now places them on the back of a chair.
These pavements just tear my feet to pieces every time I go for a walk. The cities talk about their improvements, why don’t they cover their walks with rubber so as to save one’s feet? I’d lots rather have an old cow path to walk on.
Ethel
Leaving room.
Father, may I see you for a moment?
Exit.
Mr. Benson
I’ll be back in a moment, just go right on visitin’.