Tom: ’Lo, Ma! Where’s Sis,—out? The door’s off the latch. (Kisses his mother and hangs hat in entryway).
Mrs. Loving (Greeting him with the same beautiful smile with which she greeted Rachel): Rachel just went after the rolls and pie. She’ll be back in a few minutes. You’re late, Tommy.
Tom: No, Ma—you forget—it’s pay day. (With decided shyness and awkwardness he hands her his wages). Here, Ma!
Mrs. Loving (Proudly counting it): But, Tommy, this is every bit of it. You’ll need some.
Tom: Not yet! (Constrainedly) I only wish—. Say, Ma, I hate to see you work so hard. (Fiercely) Some day—some day—. (Breaks off).
Mrs. Loving: Son, I’m as proud as though you had given me a million dollars.
Tom (Emphatically): I may some day,—you see. (Abruptly changing the subject): Gee! Ma, I’m hungry. What’s for dinner? Smell’s good.
Mrs. Loving: Lamb and dumplings and rice.
Tom: Gee! I’m glad I’m living—and a pie too?
Mrs. Loving: Apple pie, Tommy.