SMITH: Well, well—quite a trip. Well, Mr Morton, I hope this is not a bad time for me to—present a little matter to you?
SILAS: (genially) That depends, of course, on what you're going to present. (attracted by a sound outside) Mind if I present a little matter to your horse? Like to uncheck him so's he can geta a bit o'grass.
SMITH: Why—yes. I suppose he would like that.
SILAS: (going out) You bet he'd like it. Wouldn't you, old boy?
SMITH: Your son is fond of animals.
GRANDMOTHER: Lots of people's fond of 'em—and good to 'em. Silas—I dunno, it's as if he was that animal.
FEJEVARY: He has imagination.
GRANDMOTHER: (with surprise) Think so?
SILAS: (returning and sitting down at the table by the young man) Now, what's in your mind, my boy?
SMITH: This town is growing very fast, Mr Morton.