"Hush, Stanley," said Sarah, "don't forget Early Ann."
"She'll just have to get used to us, Sarah," Stanley said. "She'll have to get used to the way we talk around here."
"Ain't we going to eat sometime today?" Gus asked. "I thought I heard the dinner bell."
"There, the duck's just done," said Sarah. She slipped it deftly onto the willow-ware platter.
"Duck on a Saturday?" asked Stud with mild surprise. He viewed the sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, the great bowl of gravy, baked apples, bread-and-butter pickles, the pile of hot homemade bread in thick slices, the apple and gooseberry pies and large graniteware pot of coffee with something like lust.
"Duck on a week-day?"
"You know Peter came home today. He.... Oh, Stanley, he's quit school! He said he couldn't stand it another day."
"And so we kill the fatted calf," said Stanley quietly. "Well, why doesn't he come to dinner? What's keeping him?"
"He's upstairs changing into his overalls. You might as well begin."
She stopped half way between the stove and table as Stud began the blessing. She cast her eyes down as the words ran on.... "God is great and God is good, and we thank Him for this food...." She saw the wide pine boards of the kitchen, worn white and smooth from years of scrubbing. Then she shut her eyes and said a little prayer of her own for Peter and for Stanley Brailsford.