continued. Mrs. Bierbauer was scanning the columns of the Maple Valley Star.
I see, she observed presently, that they got boats now what go under water.
What do they call 'em?
Submarines. They've invented telephones an' telegraphs an' electric lights an' steam locomobiles. It's certainly wonderful what they've invented. . . . And now there's the X Ray.
What's that?
Why they turn a light on a body an' you can see right through.
'Tain't decent. What's it for?
To see your insides, Mrs. Fox. It's for doctors.
It's certainly wonderful the things they're inventin'. Who'd've thought it a few years ago?
They can't go no further. Some fools still think they can fly, but they can't go no further. It'd be slappin' the face o' God if they did.
The piano no longer sounded. In her nasal voice Mrs. Bierbauer began to sing softly:
Take her, boy, you're mighty lucky . . .
Suddenly, she broke off. Look! she cried, pointing up the street to a youth curved over the handle-bars of his bicycle on which he was coasting down hill. There's that Ray Cameron scorchin' again.
He'll kill himself.
