“Well, he shouldn’t be, even if they were born in Canada. His father says he’s going to stand by this country now, because it gives them a good living and always has. He’s going to make them all citizens.”
Potter laughed. He was sitting perched up on the kitchen table, his small feet dangling beneath it and his cap in his hand.
“I told Bennet we licked England twice and he got hot under the collar. He’s funny. Did you like it better up north?”
“Yes, I guess I did. We used to have good times in Winnipeg. The fellows always in the house, my! It’ll be the same here after a while. Those two girls get a crowd coming pretty quick. Only we’ll never have snow like in Winnipeg. I did love the snow, such sledding and skating!”
“That’s the ticket!” agreed Potter, and added with some disgust, “We hardly had one good skate last winter—soon as it’d freeze it’d thaw! But you should have seen the first winter we were here. Almost two months of ice! This house wasn’t here then—hardly any in this row were, and gee, the way the wind used to blow! It changes around here fast. Kirk broke his arm falling through these joistses.”
Potter swung down from the table and stood in front of the ironing board, smiling up at the tall woman, his hands in his pockets.
“Say, Ellen, got something to eat? Just anything, you know—I’ll tell you why I want it.”
Ellen put down her iron on the metal guard and went into the pantry. She returned with three powdered doughnuts on a plate.
“Here,” she said laughing. “You’re always eating, Potter Osprey. Your mother told me I was spoiling your appetite for meals.”
“Thanks,” he said and went on between mouthfuls. “I’ve been smoking. I thought something to eat would take my breath away.”