Mrs. Hamilton. Hal Boy—what's the trouble?
Hal. I licked Fritz.
Mrs. Hamilton. What for?
Hal. He said it took the whole world to lick the Germans.
Mrs. Hamilton. But, Hal, my boy—the war is over—you mustn't be hateful—be kind and forgiving.
Hal. Make them bring back my daddy then.
Mrs. Hamilton. You still have your mother—(Hal runs to mother and embraces her tenderly.)
Mrs. Hamilton. Whose birthday is it to-day? (He thinks—pause.) This is the 20th of August—now think hard. (She awaits answer—silence—then takes box of mignonettes.) Whose favorite flower is the mignonette?
Hal. Papa's! Papa's! (Claps his hands boyishly.)
Mrs. Hamilton. Yes, Hal—it's papa's birthday and mother is remembering the day by decorating our little stand with the flowers your papa has grown. (He caresses the mignonettes tenderly.)