Read Online One On The House by Mary Lasswell - Free Book Online Page A

under the river to get to it.” Mrs. Rasmussen pulled a large roll of green tickets from her pocket.
    “It’s the old stubs wrapped over toilet-paper to pad it out, just in case they get nosey.”
    “If we could only keep them away from the train…partings are so sorrowful! And they are sure to suspect!”
    “We have to jabber real fast an’ keep Katy from catchin’ on when we do leave…they ain’t no chance o’ keepin’ her away even if Danny has to work.” Mrs. Feeley began cleaning up the coffee table and took the empty bottles to the kitchen. “They’ll be back before we know it.”
    “Chaucer was right,” Miss Tinkham sniffed: “There is greate comforte in smalle busy-ness! I’ll have time to Lux out our clothes.”
    “Gotta stir up my wild-rice casserole,” Mrs. Rasmussen said. “I soaked the rice last night…might’s well shoot the works.”
    “Sure!” Mrs. Feeley laughed, pouring out fresh beer. “What a lovely prospect opens before us!” Miss Tinkham grinned. “In our old days,” Mrs. Feeley twittered in Miss Tinkham’s most birdlike accents, “we can follow the sun…and the horses! With a goddam dustpan!”

Chapter 8
     
    “T HAT WAS ONE O’ THE SNAZZIEST MEALS YOU EVER cooked, Mrs. Rasmussen!” Mrs. Feeley sighed with pleasure.
    “Anybody could do it with all Katy has in her icebox an’ pantry,” Mrs. Rasmussen said. Katy looked sad and the ladies, sensing her mood, threw themselves into a spurt of gaiety.
    “Yeup! When we get back we’ll send you some real Monterey jack-cheese, an’ some avocados that got taste to ’em,” Mrs. Feeley said.
    “If we sat around your hospitable board much longer, Dear Katy, we should all lose our figures!” Miss Tinkham smiled. “Just look at our embonpoint!” She patted the slight protuberance below her belt.
    “Damn if I can see my feet anymore,” Mrs. Feeley said. “An’ Miss Tinkham’s gettin’ to look like a garter snake that swallowed a hoptoad.”
    “What we need is plain thinking and high living…I am mixed up!” Miss Tinkham said. “We have reveled in the fleshpots long enough.”
    “High livin’? Mr. Feeley always said if he had to choose between a low brow an’ a high bosom…”
    “We’ll notify you of our safe arrival the moment we reach home,” Miss Tinkham said.
    “Just what train are you taking?” Danny asked.
    “Oh, er…we can get one every half-hour. But we should start early!” Miss Tinkham stalled.
    “My, my,” Danny murmured. “How service on the Pennsy has improved; trains to the Coast every half-hour!”
    Mrs. Feeley watched her nephew narrowly. They had better get out of questioning range.
    “Let’s get these dishes did in a hurry.” She pushed back her chair. “We can’t leave without goin’ in to say good-bye to our friends that been so nice to us down to the beer joint.”
    “You’re going out? On your last night?” Katy said.
    “Won’t take but a few minutes,” Mrs. Feeley said emphatically for the benefit of her open-mouthed friends. “We never know when we’ll be comin’ back, an’ we don’t want to do nothin’ un-polite.”
    “We’ll go along with you,” Danny said.
    “Now they ain’t no use you disturbin’ yourselfs, goin’ out in the heat o’ the night, an’ all! We’ll be back in two shakes of a dead lamb’s tail.” She banged the dishes rapidly into the kitchen and Miss Tinkham slipped them quickly into the soapsuds.
    “Something distinctly not kosher around here.” Danny followed her into the kitchen.
    “It’s such a pleasure to wash up after Mrs. Rasmussen,” Miss Tinkham burbled. “She always washes the pots and pans as she goes along! Time after time I have seen her prepare a seven-course meal and not a dirty dish in the kitchen!”
    “The fast train that connects with The Chief in Chicago leaves in the afternoon…why are you going in the morning?” Danny said.
    “Did I ever tell you about the time I was sittin’ in The Tropic in San