Well, Martha done up and left me, Missus Pearson, and I figure what’s the point? What’s the point ‘a livin’ now? Sometimes I lay in bed at night and pray for death -then I think no, there are fruits and vegetables dependin’ on me. What would these here peaches do if’n I waren’t around to -

What’s that you say? No, no, I’m not runnin’ a fever. The artist just doesn’t know how to do light, that’s all.