Read Online High Time by Mary Lasswell - Free Book Online

Tinkham moaned, unwrapping her handkerchief to look at the bite on her wrist.
    ‘Regular varmints, them two,’ Mrs. Rasmussen agreed. ‘Wonder how come the Children’s Society ain’t got ’em?’
    ‘I wonder!’ Mrs. feeley mused. ‘Sure can’t have much of a mother! Wasn’t that ol’ clabbered milk awful spattered all over that way?’
    ‘An’ that crib! Smelled like a badger’s nest! Foo!’ Mrs. Rasmussen held her nose.
    Darleen returned with the milk before the discussion could go further. The ladies followed her into the next room to watch.
    Pierpont took two dishes and climbed up on a chair and washed them in the wash-basin. Then he brought them back to the rickety card-table, filled the bowls with dry cereal and poured some milk on it. He sprinkled sugar on top from a torn paper bag. Myrna had already climbed up on a chair and was spooning away greedily. Pierpont dived in, too.
    ‘Now, you all go right to bed the minute you finish, you hear?’ Darleen admonished. ‘Don’t try to wait up for your mom! C’mon, ladies; our taxi is waiting!’ she said, and they all went downstairs.
    The three ladies and Darleen sailed wing and wing into the cozy, rose-lighted Inn. Mrs. Feeley looked at her friends and moved her eyebrows up and down several times in anticipation of a big time. Darleen certainly knew her way around: she had even had a nice table reserved. The waiters bowed deferentially, and when one of them pulled Mrs. Feeley’s chair out for her, she turned to him in the most friendly fashion and asked: ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’
    When he had gone away the ladies agreed he was sure a nice feller.
    ‘We’ll have beer,’ Darleen ordered. ‘And some clam-juice for me!’
    The Noah’s Arkies enjoyed their beer out of the nice tall Pilsener glasses. Mrs. Rasmussen inquired in subtle pantomime whether or not she should take some of the glasses home by way of souvenir. Mrs. Feeley shook her head because Darleen was evidently well known here, and it might come back on her. Miss Tinkham loved the little red silk shades on the electric candles at each table. She was stowing away oyster crackers at a fine clip. Soon the oysters on the half-shell arrived. Darleen swallowed hers whole, but the ladies chewed away in moist appreciation. Mrs. Feeley told the joke, ending: ‘I try heem once, I try heem twice, I try heem three times, but he no stay down!’ Truly a festive occasion.
    To take away the chill of the oysters, the party enjoyed large deviled crabs served in their bright red shells. Plenty of Tartar sauce and French fried potatoes accompanied the crabs. Mrs. Feeley almost told a joke about crabs, but thought better of it Darleen never let the beer-glasses stay empty a minute. She was some hostess.
    When the crabs had gone the way of all flesh, each lady was served half a lobster with mayonnaise. Even Mrs. Rasmussen had to admit that the accompanying cole slaw and French rolls were very tasty.
    ‘Something so festive about lobster!’ Miss Tinkham beamed at Darleen. ‘It has an air about it!’
    ‘I’m sure glad you like it,’ the hostess replied.
    Everyone was busy gouging and prying out the precious pink morsels. Mrs. Feeley said she didn’t know when she had been in such a nice, genteel place. The juke-box played softly and continuously. When it came to ‘Don’t Get Around Much Anymore,’ she grinned and remarked: ‘That sure as hell don’t apply to us, does it?’
    The waiter was slightly bug-eyed at the amount of food and beer his table consumed, but he knew Darleen was good for the bill. They had an awful time deciding between broiled red snapper and fried abalone steaks. The red snapper won. Mrs. Feeley decided that she had better go and wash her hands if she expected to stow away the next course in comfort. Darleen pointed out the door to her and off she went.
    Miss Tinkham was beginning to get the far comers filled up and had time for conversation once more.
    ‘My dear,