Hicks, of Rochester, Jim?

JAMES. [_Noticing the sudden friendliness--looking at_ FREDERIK,
_half-amused, half-disgusted._] Can't repeat correspondence, Mr. Grimm.
[_Amazed._] Good heavens! You surprise me! Would you sell your great,
great grandfather? I learned to read by studying his obituary out in the
peach orchard: "Johann Grimm, of Holland, an upright settler." There isn't
a day your uncle doesn't tell me that you are to carry on the work.

FREDERIK. So I am, but it's not _my_ religion. [_Sarcastically._.]
Every man can't be blessed like you with the soul of a market gardener--a
peddler of turnips.

JAMES. [_Thinking--ignoring_ FREDERIK.] He's a great old man--your uncle.
It's a big name--Grimm--Peter Grimm. The old man knows his business--he
certainly knows his business. [_Changing._] God! It's an awful thought
that a man must die and carry all that knowledge of orchids to the grave!
I wonder if it doesn't all count somewhere.... I must attend to the mail.

PETER GRIMM _enters from the gardens. He is a well-preserved man of sixty,
very simple and plain in his ways. He has not changed his style of dress
in the past thirty years. His clothing, collar, tie, hat and shoes are all
old-fashioned. He is an estimable man, scrupulously honest, gentle and
sympathetic; but occasionally he shows a flash of Dutch stubbornness._

FREDERIK. I ran over from the office, Uncle Peter, to make a suggestion.

PETER. Yes?

FREDERIK. I suggest that we insert a full-page cut of your new tulip in