CATHERINE. Do you like your new work?
JAMES. Anything to get back to the gardens, Catherine. I've always done outside work and I prefer it; but I would shovel dirt rather than work for any one else.
CATHERINE. [Amused.] James!
JAMES. It's true. When the train reached the Junction, and a boy presented the passengers with the usual flower and the "compliments of Peter Grimm"—it took me back to the time when that was my job; and when I saw the old sign, "Grimm's Botanic Gardens and Nurseries"—I wanted to jump off the train and run through the grounds. It seemed as though every tulip called "hello" to me.
CATHERINE. Too bad you left college! You had only one more year.
JAMES. Poor father! He's very much disappointed. Father has worked in the dirt in overalls—a gardener—all his life; and, of course, he over-estimates an education. He's far more intelligent than most of our college professors.
CATHERINE. I understand why you came back. You simply must live where things grow, mustn't you, James? So must I. Have you seen our orchids?
JAMES. Orchids are pretty; but they're doing wonderful things with potatoes these days. I'd rather improve the breed of a squash than to have an orchid named after me. Wonderful discovery of Luther Burbank's— creating an edible cactus. Sometimes I feel bitter thinking what I might have done with vegetables, when I was wasting time studying Greek.
CATHERINE. [Changing suddenly.] James: why don't you try to please Uncle
Peter Grimm?
JAMES. I do; but he is always asking my opinion, and when I give it, he blows up.