"You have a good home on the ranche for her, but she won't stay put.
She follows you around, and the only thing that keeps her quiet is
mopping, so you humour her; you let her mop. It's the only way. But
of course it makes you sad. You look at her now, then go up and hug
her the way you did yesterday; you try to get her to give up
mopping, but she won't, so you let her go on. Try it."

Merton went forward to embrace his old mother. Here was tragedy
indeed, a bit of biting pathos from a humble life. He gave the best
that was in him as he enfolded the feeble old woman and strained her
to his breast, murmuring to her that she must give it up-give it up.

The old lady wept, but was stubborn. She tore herself from his arms
and knelt on the floor. "I just got to mop, I just got to mop," she
was repeating in a cracked voice. "If I ain't let to mop I git rough
till I'm simply a scandal."

It was an affecting scene, marred only by one explosive bit of
coarse laughter from an observing cowboy at the close of the old
mother's speech. Merton Gill glanced up in sharp annoyance at this
offender. Baird was quick in rebuke.

"The next guy that laughs at this pathos can get off the set," he
announced, glaring at the assemblage. There was no further outbreak
and the scene was filmed.

There followed a dramatic bit that again involved the demented
mother. "This ought to be good if you can do it the right way,"
began Baird. "Mother's mopping along there and slashes some water on