"And you're a good runner, you are," said he. "Why, I beat you this morning."
The younger man glanced up hopefully. "Couldn't you beat this cook?"
"You're the only man in this world I can outrun.
"'A tear, a sigh, a last good-bye.'"
"Shut up!"
As Glass consented to do this, the speaker mused, bitterly, "'Early to bed and early to rise.' I wish I had the night- watchman who wrote those words."
"Didn't you never see the sun rise before?"
"Certainly not. I don't stay up that late."
"Well, ain't it beautiful!" The stout man turned admiring eyes to the eastward, and his husky voice softened. "All them colors and tints and shades and stuff! And New York on the other end!"
"I'm too tired to see beauty in anything." As if mindful of a neglected duty, Glass turned upon him. "What are you waiting for? Get those dog-beds off your back." He seized the slack of a sweater and gave it a jerk.