“‘Folks will go back to the land, as I have,’ says I.
“‘They don’t know enough,’ says Sam. ‘Farmin’ is a lost art here in the East. You take my word for it—they’ll pay our prices—they’ll have to—an’ the rich folks, they don’t worry about prices. I pay a commission to every steward an’ butler in this neighborhood.’
“‘I won’t help you,’ says I. ‘It’s wicked. You ought to have saved your money.’
“‘In a year from now I’ll have money to burn,’ he says. ‘For one thing, my daughter’s education is finished, an’ that has cost heavy.’
“‘How much would it cost to unlearn it?’ I asked. ‘That’s goin’ to cost more than it did to get it, I’m ’fraid. In my opinion the first thing to do with her is to uneducate her.’
“That was like a red-hot iron to Sam. It kind o’ het him up.
“‘Why, sir, you don’t appreciate her,’ says he. ‘That girl is far above us all here in Pointview. She’s a queen.’
“‘Well, Sam,’ I says, ‘if there’s anything you don’t need just now it’s a queen. If I were you I wouldn’t graft that kind o’ fruit on the grocery-tree. Hams an’ coronets don’t flourish on the same bush. They have a different kind of a bouquet. They don’t harmonize. Then, Sam, what do you want of a girl that’s far above ye? Is it any comfort to you to be despised in your own home?’
“‘Mr. Potter, I haven’t educated her for my own home or for this community, but for higher things,’ says Sam.
“‘You hairy old ass! The first you know,’ I says, ‘they’ll have your skin off an’ layin’ on the front piaz’ for a door-mat.’