I think he was relieved that the huckleberry question was not being followed up.
"I believe he was your great-uncle by marriage. They say that there was a certain field that was full of butterfly-weed—you know, gorgeous orange stuff—"
"I know," said he. "What about it?"
"Well, there was a meadow that was full of it, just in its glory when the grass was ready to cut. Jonathan, what would you have done?"
"Go on," said Jonathan.
"Well, he always mowed that field himself, and when he came to a clump of butterfly-weed, he always mowed around it."
"Very pretty," said Jonathan, in an impersonal way.
"And that," I added, "is what I call having a proper subordination of values."
"I see," said he.
"And now," I went on, with almost too ostentatious sweetness, "if you will tell me where to find a huckleberry patch that is not already reduced to cinders, I will go out to-morrow and get some for pies."