Every Soul Hath Its Song Part 45
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"Oh-oh-oh!"
"That's the ticket, waiter! I knew there wasn't nothing round here that tin wouldn't buy. I guess that ain't some great big brown grizzly with a grin for you, Doll!"
"Oh-oh-oh!"
"I guess they didn't rustle round when your Uncle Fuller began to get sore, and get a great big brown one for you! Gad! the biggest I ever seen--almost as big as you, Doll! That's the ticket! There ain't anything in this town tin can't buy!"
"Oh-oh-oh!" She lifted the huge toy off the silver tray held out to her and buried her s.h.i.+ning face in the soft, silky wool. "Ain't he a beauty?
Ain't he the softest, brownest beauty?"
"Now, peaches, now cherries, now you little fancy-fruit stand, there goes the music. Let's see that dance!"
"Aw, Jimmie, I--I was only kiddin'!"
"Kiddin' nothing! Come now, Doll, I blew me ten bucks if I blew me a cent for that bunch of wool. Come now, let's see that dance you been blowing about! Go as far as you like, Doll!"
"I--honest, I was only guyin', Jimmie."
"Don't be a quitter and make me sore, Doll! I wanna show 'em I pick the live ones every time. There's the music!"
"Aw, I--"
"Go as far as you like, Doll. Here, gimme your hat! Go to it, sister. If you land in the fountain by mistake I'll blow you to the swellest new duds on the Avenue."
"I don't know no dances no more, Jimmie. I--I can't dance with this big old thing anyways. Look, he's almost as big as me!"
"Go it alone, then, Doll; but get up and show 'em. Get up and show 'em that I don't pick nothing but the livest! Get up and show 'em, Doll; get up and show 'em!"
She set down her gla.s.s suddenly and pirouetted to her feet.
"Here--I--go--Jimmie!"
"Go to it, Doll!"
She leaped forward in her narrow little skirt, laughing. Chairs sc.r.a.ped back and a round of applause went with her. Knives and forks beat tattoo on frail gla.s.ses; a tinsel ball flung from across the room fell at her feet. She stooped to it, waved it, and pinned it to her bosom. Her hair, rich as Australian gold, half escaped its chignon and lay across her shoulders. She danced light as the breeze up the marble stairway, and at its climax the spotlight focused on her, covering her with the sheen of mica; then just as lightly down the steps again, so rapidly that her hair was tossed outward in a fairy-like effect of spun gold.
"Go to it, Doll. I'm here to back you!"
"Dare me, Jimmie?"
"Dare what?"
"Dare me?"
"Yeh, I dare you to do anything your little heart desires. Gad!
you--Gad! if she 'ain't!"
Like a bird in flight she danced to the gold coping, paused like an audacious Undine in a moment of thrilled silence, and then into the purple and gold, violet and red rain of the electric fountain, her arms outstretched in a radiant _tableau vivant_, water crowding in about her knees, spray dancing on her upturned face.
"Gad! the little daredevil! I didn't think she had it in her. Gad! the little devil!"
Clang! Clang! Tink! Tink! "Bravo, kiddo! Who-o-o-p!"
Shaking the spray out of her eyes, her hair, she emerged to a grand orchestral flare. The same obsequious hands that applauded her helped her from the gold coping. Waiters dared to smile behind their trays. Up to her knees her dark-cloth skirt clung dankly. Water glistened on her shoulders, spotted her blouse. Mr. Jimmie Fitzgibbons lay back in his chair, weak from merriment.
"Gad! I didn't think she had it in her! Gad! I didn't!"
"Bo-o-o-o!" She shook herself like a dainty spaniel, and he grasped the table to steady himself against his laughter.
"Gad! I didn't!"
"Fine weather for ducks!"
"Gad!"
"I'm a nice girl and they treat me like a sponge."
"Gad!"
"April weather we're havin', ain't it?"
"You ain't much wet, are you, Doll?"
"Bo-o-o-o!"
"Here, waiter, get the lady a coat or something. Gad! you're the hit of the place, Doll! Aw, you ain't cold, hon? Look, you ain't even wet through--what you shaking about?"
She drew inward little breaths of s.h.i.+very glee. "I ain't wet! Say, whatta you think that fountain's spouting--gasoline? I--ain't--wet!
Looka my hair curling up like it does in a rain-storm! Feel my skirt down here at the hem! Can you beat it? I ain't wet, he says!"
"Here, drink this, Doll, and warm up."
"No."
She threw a dozen brilliant glances into the crowd, tossed an invitational nod to the group adjoining, and clapped her hands for the iridescent Christmas ball that dangled over their table.
"Here, send 'er over--here, give you leave. I'm some little catcher myself."
It bounded to her light as air, and she caught it deftly, tossed it ceilingward until it bounced against an incandescent bulb, tossed it again, caught it lightly, nor troubled to heed the merry shouts for its return.
From across the room some one threw her a great trailing ribbon of gilt paper. She bound it about her neck like a ruff. A Christmas star with a fluted tissue-paper edge floated into her lap. She wore it like an earring, waggling it slyly so that her curls were set a-bobbing.
"Gimme my bear."
She hugged the woolly image to her as if she would beg its warmth, her teeth clicking the while with chill.
"Take a little swallow or two to warm you up, Doll!"
"Gee! I took your dare, Jimmie--and--and--br-r-r-r!"
Every Soul Hath Its Song Part 45
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Every Soul Hath Its Song Part 45 summary
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