"What are you doing?"
"Packing."
"Packing what, I'd like to know?"
"Victuals."
"Of course! I might have known without asking. What in the world shall we want with victuals, in the street without roof or bed?"
But the father told him to hold on to his basket.
"You may be sure he'll do that," said the mother. "What in the world are all those boxes you've got there?" she asked as she dragged a sheet full of articles to the front door.
"Some things from my office," the doctor replied hurriedly.
"I just know they're those plants and fossils and casts and miserable things that have been in my way everlastingly. I was in hopes they'd get burnt up."
Without heeding his wife, Dr. Lively disappeared into the house for something else.