DAVE
"Honest, Dave?" says I.
"Honest, daddy," says Dave. "Now that I'm out of Virginia I'll have a real good chance to finish growing. But I don't think that anybody who lives down there'll ever grow up, but be cut off—a good lot of 'em—in the days of their youth. When the war is over they'll have to start another population."
"Is it really as bad as that?" I asks.
"It's worse," says Dave. "Nothing but war and rumors of war—and a little eating and sleeping now and then, when they happen to think of it. No one farms or works or earns anything. Everybody lives on the others."
"Dave," I says, "I'm right glad you came up—and didn't obey me for once."
"Once!" laughs Dave. "When was that? I don't remember ever obeying you."
"That's so," says I, "and I'm not mad about it now. You'll promise not to go to war on either side?"
"Not either or both sides," laughs Dave.
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