STRANGER. Now a light is dawning on me!—The miserable wretch! And here I have been praising him these thirty-five years. I have missed him, and I felt something like sorrow at his departure—I even used some of my tobacco allowance to buy a wreath for his coffin.
MRS. WESTERLUND. What was it he did? What was it?
STRANGER. The villain! [Pause] Well—he fooled me—it was Shrove Tuesday, I remember. He told me that if one took away every third egg from a hen she would lay so many more. I did it, got a licking, and came near getting into court. But I never suspected him of having told on me.—He was always hanging around our kitchen looking for tid-bits, and so our maids could do just what they pleased about the garbage—oh, now I see him in his proper aspect!—And here I am now getting into a fury at one who has been thirty-five years in his grave?—So he was a satirist, he was—and I didn't catch on—although I understand him now.
MRS. WESTERLUND. Yes, he was a little satirical all right—I ought to know that!
STRANGER. Other things are coming back to me now—and I have been saying nice things about that blackguard for thirty-five years! It was at his funeral I drank my first toddy—And I remember how he used to flatter me, and call me "professor" and "the crown prince"—ugh—And there is the stone-cutter! You had better go inside, madam, or we'll have a row when that fellow begins to turn in his bills. Good-bye, madam—we'll meet again!
MRS. WESTERLUND. No we won't. People ought never to meet again—it is never as it used to be, and they only get to clawing at each other—What business did you have to tell me all those things—seeing everything was all right as it was [She goes out.
ERICSON, the stone-cutter, comes in.
STRANGER. Come on!
ERICSON. What's that?
STRANGER. Come on, I said!