Families -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Older people -- Fiction
“Granite,” she asked, “do you think you could manage to do a skirt
dance on the footboard? I’m ’most wild to see some lace shake.”
Janice looked doubtfully at the footboard. It was wide for a footboard,
but narrow—too narrow—for a skirt dance.
“But I can do one on the floor,” she cried.
Aunt Mary’s features became suffused with heavenly joy.
“Oh, Granite!” she murmured, in accents of greatest anticipation.
The maid stood up, and, going off as far as the limits of the spacious
bedroom would allow, executed a most fetching and dainty _pas seul_ to
a tune of her own humming.
“Give me suthin’ to pound with!” cried her enthusiastic audience. “Oh,
Granite, I ain’t been so happy since I was home! Whatever you want you
can have, only don’t ever leave me alone with Lucinda again.”
Janice was catching her tired breath, but she answered with a smile.
“Can’t you get my Sunday umbrella out of the closet now an’ do a
parasol dance?” the insatiate demanded; “one of those where you shoot
it open an’ shut when people ain’t expectin’.”
The maid went to the closet and brought out the Sunday umbrella; but
its shiny black silk did not appear to inspire any fluffy maneuvres, so
she utilized it in the guise of a broadsword and did something that
savored of the Highlands, and seemed to rebel bitterly at the length of
her skirt. Aunt Mary writhed around in bliss—utter and intense.
“I feel like I was livin’ again,” she said, heaving a great sigh of
content. “I tell you I’ve suffered enough, since I came back, to know
what it is to have some fun again. Now, Granite, I’ll tell you what
we’ll do,” when the girl sat down to rest; “you write for those
cigarettes while I take a little nap and afterwards we’ll get the
Universal Knowledge book and learn how to play poker. You don’t know
how to play poker, do you?”
“A little,” cried the maid.
“Well, I want to learn how,” said the old lady, “an’ we’ll learn
when—when I wake up.”
Janice nodded assent.
“Excuse me shuttin’ my eyes,” said Aunt Mary—and she was asleep in two
minutes.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Granite”
Continued.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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