Dea. P. Never mind.
J. (going slowly toward L.). Good-by.
Dea. P. and Mrs. P. Good-by. Be sure and write.
J. I’ll write just as soon as I get to the city.
(Exit L.)
Mrs. P. (with her apron to her eyes). It’s an awful resk, Deacon, Jonathan’s going away from home.
Dea. P. Cheer up, mother. He’s a man grown. He may make a fortune, after all.
(Exeunt, R.)
(Jonathan returns L. for his chest.)
J. (solus). Good-by to Beanville. When I come back, I’ll make the folks stare. Mary Jane’ll have to look up another feller. I’m goin’ to look higher.