Townly:
There, there, Lucas, softly.
Lucas:
No, sir. I can no longer put up with your wife's temperament.
Townly: You have to forgive her, because the spirit of contradiction is natural to her.
Lucas: When she contradicts you like crazy,—you, her husband—that's natural, huh? Well, maybe. But it isn't natural that she should contradict my garden.
Townly:
Patience, Lucas, patience.
Lucas: To be perfectly frank I don't like being gardener here—or anywhere there are women. A woman in a garden causes more damage than a million hedgehogs.
Townly:
You're right and my wife is in the wrong.
Lucas: Everything I've planted is torn up. She's replanted all the weeds I tore out when I was grafting. She said they're wildflowers. Then when I planted the cabbages she said she now wants lettuces. Nothing is done by her order that doesn't reverse something I've done. Yesterday she half buried my prunes under melons. I believe, God pardon me! that it would be better for me to plant watermelons in the grape arbor.
Townly: She's unreasonable, but let's forget about that, Lucas. Let's talk about marrying my daughter. I need your advice about that matter.
Lucas:
I haven't got an idea in my head because I've been fighting with
Madam. That puts me in an uncultivated state—me and my garden. And
besides, she's just discharged me.