_Bill._ Is he writin'?

_Peggy._ Yes--or else thinking about things to write.

_Bill._ Say! He's great on writin', ain't he?

_Peggy._ You bet!

_Bill._ Do you think it's good stuff?

_Peggy._ Indeed I do, Bill!

_Bill._ You don't often tell him so.

_Peggy._ Don't I?

_Bill._ No--generally you rip him up the back.

PEGGY (laughs). Well, mother has to keep him trying, you know.

_Bill._ Say, Peggy, do you suppose I'll be an author when I grow up?

_Peggy._ Can't tell, dear--it depends.

_Bill._ Maybe I'll have to get some payin' job, hey?

_Peggy._ Where did you pick up that idea?

_Bill._ Ain't you talkin' about it all the time to him?