“Do you mean is burned?”
“Yes, dad.”
“Hydrogen.”
“Can I make some?”
“You can’t make anything. All you can do is to discover things that God Almighty put in the earth, and you are damned lucky if you can do that. I ought not to teach you to swear, but this letter I’m writing is to a self-made man who rather needs to be sworn at.”
“Aren’t you a self-made man, dad?”
“No! I came to this town bare-footed, but it’s only by the grace of God that I’m not in jail. You’ll be doing well if you keep out of jail yourself.”
“I will, dad, but can I turn some hydrogen loose?”
“Do you want to blow a hand off?”
“I don’t mind, if I can see how the meat looks.”