(Pooh-poohing.) Crying? Of course! Was there ever a girl who didn't cry?... You amuse me... with your ideas of life.... Ha! Haven't I asked her why she was crying,--and hasn't she always said: "I don't know why--it's nothing." They love to cry. (Signs the last letter.) But that's what they all cry over--nothing. James, do you know how I happened to meet Katie? She was prescribed for me by Doctor MacPherson. (JAMES: Prescribed?) As an antidote. I was growing to be a fussy bachelor, with queer notions. You are young, but see that you don't need the Doctor, James. Do you know how I was cured? I'll tell you. One day, when I had business in the city, the Doctor went with me, and before I knew what he was at--he had marched me into a home for babies.... Katie was nearest the door--the first one. Pinned over her crib was her name: "Catherine Staats, aged three months." She held out her little arms... so friendless--so pitiful--so alone--and I was done for. We brought her back home, the Doctor, a nurse and I. The first time I carried her up those stairs--all my fine bachelor's ideas went out of my head. I knew then that my theories were all humbug. I had missed the child in the house who was to teach me everything. I had missed many children in my house. From that day, I watched over her life. (Rising, pointing towards the head of the stairs.) James, I was born in this house--in the little room where I sleep; and her children shall one day play in the room in which I was born.... That's very pretty, eh? (Wipes his eyes, sentimentally.) I've always seen it that way. (JAMES: Yes; it's very pretty if it turns out well.) How can it turn out otherwise?

Peter Monologue from The Return of Peter Grimm

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