shops. Rotten of the men to make trouble now--don't you think?--when the
country's at war! Darned unpatriotic, I say.

DR. JONATHAN. I saw a good many stars in your service flag as I passed
the office door this morning.

GEORGE. Yes. Over four hundred of our men have enlisted. I don't
understand it.

DR. JONATHAN. Perhaps you will, George, when you come home.

GEORGE. You mean--

(GEORGE is interrupted by the entrance, lower right, of his mother,
AUGUSTA PINDAR. She is now in the fifties, and her hair is turning
grey. Her uneventful, provincial existence as ASHER'S wife has
confirmed and crystallized her traditional New England views, her
conviction that her mission is to direct for good the lives of the
less fortunate by whom she is surrounded. She carries her knitting
in her hand,--a pair of socks for GEORGE. And she goes at once to
DR. JONATHAN.)

AUGUSTA. So you are Jonathan. They told me you'd arrived--why didn't
you come to us? Do you think it's wise to live in that old house of your
father's before it's been thoroughly heated for a few days?

DR. JONATHAN (taking her hand). Oh, I'm going to live with the doors and
windows open.

AUGUSTA. Dear me! I understand you've been quite ill, and you were