The Young Man: (Dreamily) No. I do prose. I do verse only when I am stirred.
Julie: (Murmuring) Stirred by a spoon
The Young Man: I have always loved poetry. I can remember to this day the first poem I ever learned by heart. It was "Evangeline."
Julie: That's a fib.
The Young Man: Did I say "Evangeline"? I meant "The Skeleton in Armor."
Julie: I'm a low-brow. But I can remember my first poem. It had one verse:
Parker and Davis
Sittin' on a fence
Tryne to make a dollar
Outa fif-teen cents.
The Young Man: (Eagerly) Are you growing fond of literature?
Julie: If it's not too ancient or complicated or depressing. Same way with people. I usually like 'em not too ancient or complicated or depressing.
The Young Man: Of course I've read enormously. You told me last night that you were very fond of Walter Scott.
Julie: (Considering) Scott? Let's see. Yes, I've read "Ivanhoe" and "The Last of the Mohicans."
The Young Man: That's by Cooper.
Julie: (Angrily) "Ivanhoe" is? You're crazy! I guess I know. I read it. The Young Man: "The Last of the Mohicans" is by Cooper.
Julie: What do I care! I like O. Henry. I don't see how he ever wrote those stories. Most of them he wrote in prison. "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" he made up in prison.
