"You don't say so!"
"Fact! It's pretty hard on me."
"Then he'll make a pretty good match for the boy I met this morning."
"Where?"
"The boy that ferried me across the river. He's as sassy a young kid as I ever saw."
"Why, that's him—that's Grit."
"Grit! He told me his name was Harry Morris."
"So it is, and his mother was Mrs. Morris before I married her."
"You don't mean to say that boy is your stepson?"
"Yes, he is."