"What'll you do?" Mrs. MacDermott asked.
"Something," said John. "I can easily do something!"
"And what about the bookshop?" said Uncle Matthew.
"Och, that was only a notion that came into my head," John answered. "I won't bother myself selling books: I'll write them instead!" He glanced about the kitchen. "I've a good mind to start writing something now!" he said.
His mother sprang to her feet. "You'll do no such thing at this hour," she said. "It's nearly Sunday morning. Would you begin your career by desecrating God's Day!"
"If you start doing things," said Uncle, reverting to John's declaration of work, "you'll mebbe have no time to write about them!"
"Oh, I'll have the time right enough. I'll make the time," John said.
Uncle William got up and walked towards the staircase. "Where are you going, William?" Mrs. MacDermott asked.
"To my bed," said Uncle William.
VII