SMITH: Oh, I don't know that we're set on buying anything. If we could have the hill (_looking off to the right_) at a fair price--
GRANDMOTHER: The hill above the town? Silas'd rather sell me and the cat.
SMITH: But what's he going to do with it?
GRANDMOTHER: Maybe he's going to climb it once a week.
SMITH: But if the development of the town demands its use--
GRANDMOTHER: (_smiling_) You the development of the town?
SMITH: I represent it. This town has been growing so fast--
GRANDMOTHER: This town began to grow the day I got here.
SMITH: You--you began it?
GRANDMOTHER: My husband and I began it--and our baby Silas.
SMITH: When was that?
GRANDMOTHER: 1820, that was.
SMITH: And--you mean you were here all alone?
GRANDMOTHER: No, we weren't alone. We had the Owens ten miles down the river.
SMITH: But how did you get here?
GRANDMOTHER: Got here in a wagon, how do you s'pose? (_gaily_) Think we flew?
SMITH: But wasn't it unsafe?
GRANDMOTHER: Them set on safety stayed back in Ohio.
SMITH: But one family! I should think the Indians would have wiped you out.
GRANDMOTHER: The way they wiped us out was to bring fish and corn. We'd have starved to death that first winter hadn't been for the Indians.
SMITH: But they were such good neighbours--why did you throw dish water at them?
GRANDMOTHER: That was after other white folks had roiled them up--white folks that didn't know how to treat 'em. This very land--land you want to buy--was the land they loved--Blackhawk and his Indians. They came here for their games. This was where their fathers--as they called 'em--were buried. I've seen my husband and Blackhawk climb that hill together. (_a backward point right_) He used to love that hill--Blackhawk. He talked how the red man and the white man could live together. But poor old Blackhawk--what he didn't know was how many white man there was. After the war--when he was beaten but not conquered in his heart--they took him east--Washington, Philadelphia, New York--and when he saw the white man's cities--it was a different Indian came back.
He just let his heart break without ever turning a hand.
SMITH: But we paid them for their lands. (_she looks at him_) Paid them something.
GRANDMOTHER: Something. For fifteen million acres of this Mississippi Valley land--best on this globe, we paid two thousand two hundred and thirty-four dollars and fifty cents, and promised to deliver annually goods to the value of one thousand dollars. Not a fancy price--even for them days, (_children's voices are heard outside. She leans forward and looks through the door, left_) Ira! Let that cat be!
SMITH: (_looking from the window_) These, I suppose, are your grandchildren?
GRANDMOTHER: The boy's my grandson. The little girl is Madeline Fejevary--Mr Fejevary's youngest child.
SMITH: The Fejevary place adjoins on this side? (_pointing right, down_)
GRANDMOTHER: Yes. We've been neighbours ever since the Fejevarys came here from Hungary after 1848. He was a count at home--and he's a man of learning. But he was a refugee because he fought for freedom in his country. Nothing Silas could do for him was too good. Silas sets great store by learning--and freedom.
SMITH: (_thinking of his own project, looking off toward the hill--the hill is not seen from the front_) I suppose then Mr Fejevary has great influence with your son?
GRANDMOTHER: More 'an anybody. Silas thinks 'twas a great thing for our family to have a family like theirs next place to. Well--so 'twas, for we've had no time for the things their family was brought up on. Old Mrs Fejevary (_with her shrewd smile_)--she weren't stuck up--but she did have an awful ladylike way of feeding the chickens. Silas thinks--oh, my son has all kinds of notions--though a harder worker never found his bed at night.
SMITH: And Mr Fejevary--is he a veteran too?
GRANDMOTHER: (_dryly_) You don't seem to know these parts well--for one that's all stirred up about the development of the town. Yes--Felix Fejevary and Silas Morton went off together, down that road (_motioning with her hand, right_)--when them of their age was wanted. Fejevary came back with one arm less than he went with. Silas brought home everything he took--and something he didn't. Rheumatiz. So now they set more store by each other 'an ever. Seems nothing draws men together like killing other men. (_a boy's voice teasingly imitating a cat_) Madeline, make Ira let that cat be. (_a whoop from the girl--a boy's whoop_) (_looking_) There they go, off for the creek. If they set in it--(_seems about to call after them, gives this up_) Well, they're not the first.
(_rather dreams over this_)
SMITH: You must feel as if you pretty near owned this country.
GRANDMOTHER: We worked. A country don't make itself. When the sun was up we were up, and when the sun went down we didn't. (_as if this renews the self of those days_) Here--let me set out something for you to eat.
(_gets up with difficulty_)
SMITH: Oh, no, please--never mind. I had something in town before I came out.
GRANDMOTHER: Dunno as that's any reason you shouldn't have something here.
(_She goes off, right; he stands at the door, looking toward the hill until she returns with a glass of milk, a plate of cookies._)
SMITH: Well, this looks good.
GRANDMOTHER: I've fed a lot of folks--take it by and large. I didn't care how many I had to feed in the daytime--what's ten or fifteen more when you're up and around. But to get up--after sixteen hours on your feet--_I_ was willin', but my bones complained some.
SMITH: But did you--keep a tavern?
GRANDMOTHER: Keep a tavern? I guess we did. Every house is a tavern when houses are sparse. You think the way to settle a country is to go on ahead and build hotels? That's all you folks know. Why, I never went to bed without leaving something on the stove for the new ones that might be coming. And we never went away from home without seein' there was a-plenty for them that might stop.
SMITH: They'd come right in and take your food?
GRANDMOTHER: What else could they do? There was a woman I always wanted to know. She made a kind of bread I never had before--and left a-plenty for our supper when we got back with the ducks and berries. And she left the kitchen handier than it had ever been. I often wondered about her--where she came from, and where she went, (_as she dreams over this there is laughing and talking at the side of the house_) There come the boys.
(MR FEJEVARY _comes in, followed by_ SILAS MORTON. _They are men not far from sixty, wearing their army uniforms, carrying the muskets they used in the parade_. FEJEVARY _has a lean, distinguished face, his dark eyes are penetrating and rather wistful. The left sleeve of his old uniform is empty_. SILAS MORTON _is a strong man who has borne the burden of the land, and not for himself alone--the pioneer. Seeing the stranger, he sets his musket against the wall and holds out his hand to him, as_ MR FEJEVARY _goes up to_ GRANDMOTHER MORTON.)
SILAS: How do, stranger?
FEJEVARY: And how are you today, Mrs Morton?
GRANDMOTHER: I'm not abed--and don't expect to be.
SILAS: (_letting go of the balloons he has bought_) Where's Ira? and Madeline?