"What is it, mother ?" "I don't want to have you think I'm interferin', Jim.

I know you're grown-up now, and I know there's things a young man might not want to tell his mother till he gets ready, but I do kind of want to know one thing, Jim." Jim tightened the G string.

He bent his face low over his violin.

"I don't know as I've ever kept much back from you, mother," he said, soberly.
"No, I know you ain't, Jim; you've always told more to your mother than most boys.

But I didn't just know but this might be something you hadn't got ready to speak about." "What is it you want to know, mother ?" "Jim, is that your _girl ?_" Jim laughed a little, although his eyes were grave; he raise the fiddle to his shoulder.