Read "The Prodigal Parents" by Sinclair Lewis online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
'It might have been something I ate. That's what it was. Prob'ly something I ate,' said Fred. 'Or maybe it was the snow glare. Made me dizzy. Or prob'ly that cold I had last week. But chances are,' and he spoke with solidity and conviction, 'it was something I ate.'
He crawled from under the mountain range of bedclothes, he rubbed his forehead, he scratched his ruddy moustache, which resembled half a doughnut, he flapped his tongue in an interested and speculative manner, he took a romantic position, eyes closed and forefinger to temple, as befitted one who was importantly ill, and he croaked, 'I'll bet it was the pie.'