Well, sir, it's early evening as we enter the small house halfway up on the next block now,
and here in the living room we find Mr. and Mrs. Victor Goop.
Vic is stretched at full length on the Davenport, gazing sleepily at a letter he's holding in his hand.
Said occupies the easy chair, ostensibly donning socks.
Actually, however, she's watching her husband with hostile eyes, and at last she says,
You're just doing that to be mean.
Huh?
You've been reading the first page of that letter now for fifteen minutes.
Really?
More than fifteen minutes.
I like to savor Bess's letters.
I like to nibble at them slowly and taste the full sweetness.
I'm not the one to gulp down cream.
I take dainty little mouthfuls and extract the rich cream.
I'm just gonna tell Bess.
She boasts and brags and almost falls over backwards,
telling Carberry people about her wonderful big brother-in-law.
There's some grave misunderstanding here.
I'm at a complete loss to understand.
I'll say.
I told you when you come home from the office this afternoon,
I'd received a letter from Bess.
You never asked to see it or volunteered to lift your little finger.
At the supper table, I mentioned it again.
Finally, I had to force you to take the letter.
I'm reading the half-wit letter.
Half-wit letter is right.
I don't know what you're complaining about.
Twenty minutes have gone past since you laid down there
and you're still on the first page.
I struck a snag.
What?
Bess is talking about something down there at the bottom here
I can't make out.
Want me to read it to you?
Yeah.
Actually, Vic, I'd be ashamed.
Here, catch.
Don't you dare throw that.
I'll toss it in your lap.
No, you won't.
I suppose Bess would be mortally insolent
if I tossed a precious letter across the table.
Lay still. I'll get up and come over.
Her eyes light up when she tells Carberry people
about her magnificent brother-in-law.
He's got this wonderful office, you'll say.
He's got his own private telephone
and special young lady to operate the typewriter
and wears a clean white shirt to work every day of his life.
Here's the letter.
How far down have you read?
Oh, I'm down about the middle.
What's she talking about?
What's who talking about?
Bess.
I expect I'm pretty dull this evening, but I don't...
Bess talking about it, the place you quit reading.
I want to know where to begin.
Oh, just begin any old place.
Vic, I'd be ashamed.
I would. I certainly would.
Kiddo, do we have to go through this rigmarole every time?
Whose fault is it?
I don't know.
All I know is stark tragedy stalks in our home whenever the mailman...
Where'd you leave off, here?
Where'd you leave off reading?
I used Walter's kneecap.
You were reading about Walter's kneecap when I interrupted you?
Yes.
That's only the second sentence.
Is it?
You've been laying there on the davenport,
20 minutes reading Bess' letter, and only got to the second sentence.
Oh, I digest what I read.
I weigh every word.
In order to extract the pure gold, I take my time.
I don't know. I just don't know.
Oh, Kiddo, don't you think this is just a bit ridiculous?
I do.
If you pause a moment and reflect it,
all this bitterness and grief revolves around the fact...
Exactly. Exactly.
At least you can listen.
Sure.
Dear sister-in-law,
thought I would write and see how you are feeling.
We are fine, and Walter's kneecap seems to have let up
definitely on the twinges. Knock wood.
Poor Bess.
Walter's kneecap seems to have let up
definitely on the twinges. Knock wood.
All right, pound on the arm of the davenport again.
I'm not opening my trap.
How is Vic?
Mm-hmm.
How is Vic?
Should you say that three times?
No, just once.
But it's here. How is Vic?
Is it underlined or something?
No, just a plain, simple statement,
sweet and straight to the point, like Bessie herself.
How is Vic?
We have had just oodles of rain here in Carberry.
Last night it come down in bucket pulls. Ha-ha.
I wonder what Bess would say if she knew.
Every once in a while I get too coughed with when I'm talking.
I get too coughed with when I lay flat on my back on the davenport.
I wonder what makes that.
I suppose Rush is still telling his playmates
about the grand times he had when he visited his Aunt Bess and Uncle Walter.
It was so lovely having you people.
Vic looked so nice.
Ha-ha.
It was so lovely having you people.
Vic looked so nice.
Should you have got that down twice?
No, only once.
Vic looked so nice.
Ah.
Youncy has started to memorize a new piece on the piano
that's every bit as difficult as the Rora Borealis,
Elegy and Gallop,
where she stomps on the loud pedal with both feet
and scrapes her fingernail down along the white key.
The new piece is called Little Red Skin Comanche,
Sweetheart of Mine,
and in the middle of it, Youncy hammers on the top of the piano with her fist
and also lets out an Indian war hoot.
Her music teacher, Miss Nell, played it over for us Friday afternoon,
and Walter was upstairs and come running down,
white as a sheet, he was so scared.
Ha-ha.
Isn't that a funny thing?
Yeah.
Walter heard all this commotion of hammering with fists
on top of the piano and Indian war hoops
and wondered what on earth was going on.
Ha-ha.
Don't even make you smile.
Oh, I won't.
Poor Bess.
No matter what I do or say, I'm a fathead.
Did you make that little dress yet you bought material for, mate?
I bet it is just awful pretty.
I bought shoes last week.
They pinched my feet and I let Mrs. Goffer cross the street,
wear them to Freeport to break them in. Ha-ha.
Ha-ha.
What's so funny?
Isn't it supposed to be funny?
Oh.
She's got a ha-ha tacked on.
Sure.
Mr. Gargleson, grandfather to Miss Whiting,
you met at Mrs. Phillips' house,
fell out of the porch swing yesterday
and had to have seven stitches taken in the calf of his leg.
Ha-ha.
She wrote that ha-ha in there by mistake.
Mr. Gargleson's a perfectly lovely old gentleman.
Bess wouldn't say ha-ha about him getting hurt.
What?
I never said anything.
I expect Vic.
Vic?
See how many times she mentions you.
Oh, yes.
My sister's man holds a wonderful position there in the kitchen
where he's the head of his lodge
and takes trips to Chicago and every place else.
That's the way she talks about you.
Hmm.
I expect Vic is having dandy times at his office these days.
What do you mean, dandy times?
Dandy times?
Does she think I go to the office to play the guitar
and eat white grapes?
I don't go to the office to have dandy times.
I go to the office to work.
Bess is a mean, cruel girl to say a thing like that.
If I was you, I'd write back and scold her for it.
No, old witch, shucks.
I don't think she really means any harm.
Hmm.
I expect Vic is having dandy times at his office these days.
Well, he certainly deserves it.
Yeah.
Yes?
Nothing.
By the way, mate, you can tell him our neighbor,
Miss Frostgum, passed a cute little compliment on him.
Your sister's husband, Miss Haffer, she says,
was quite distinguished-looking. Ha-ha.
Remember Miss Frostgum?
She was the lady rushed into the kitchen that Sunday morning
when we were there and borrowed the cup of butter.
Wore the last excited shoes, remember,
all in white and gold teeth.
Hmm.
Speaking of Miss Frostgum, she and Mrs.
Richard, it looks like, Richard Fitcher.
Speaking of Miss Frostgum, she and Miss Fitcher went to
some place, Newton, I guess.
When she gets down close to the end of her letter,
she tries to cram a whole bunch of stuff in a little rotten bit of space.
Speaking of Miss Frostgum, she and Miss Fitcher went to Newton
to buy, hmm, something.
Can't make out that word at all.
I expect Rush is something, something, something, something,
rather something, quite a good deal here lately. Ha-ha.
Something, something, something, something, something, something,
I know you'll agree.
Gollies, nobody could make this out.
Well, I guess I will.
Something, something, something, something, something,
something, rather when you can.
Something, something, something, something, something,
something, something, something, something, something,
love to all your sister best.
Nice little letter, hmm?
And not such a terrible ordeal to have to listen to either, hmm?
Huh?
Vic?
Vic, are you asleep?
You are asleep, you are asleep.
Huh?
Vic, how could you do it?