Read Online The Cockroaches of Stay More by Donald Harington - Free Book Online Page B

their milk-white babyhood and with their easteregg open like a huge zippered purse in the center of the loafing room. In addition to these babies, who were scampering madly all over the place in search of any scrap that was chewable, there was another brood of a baker’s dozen in their third instar, and still a third brood in their fifth instar, making for quite a large family. Of course the older children of this family could just as well set up their own homes and lives, but the Dingletoons had always been family-oriented and possessed of a strong flocking instinct, like many poor Carlott families—the Flockroaches of Stay More. Tish was the only one of her generation of siblings to remain in the household, and thus a share of the supervision of the younger ones fell upon her.
    Mother of them all and veteran of many nights of hauling eastereggs around at the end of her abdomen, Josie Dingletoon still retained much of the freshness and even the plump prettiness of her youth, and it was clear that whatever attractiveness Tish possessed had been inherited from her mother.
    “I’ll dance with ’em a while for ye, Momma,” Tish offered, and sought to relieve her mother of the responsibility for keeping the children entertained.
    But Josie, always blithe, seemed even more cheerful tonight. “We’ll everbody dance!” she exclaimed. “I’m glad ye’ve come, Letitia hon, but not to spell me with these younguns. We’ve all got reason to party and dance! Jist wait’ll I tell ye!”
    “Maw…” said young Jubal, touching his sniffwhip timidly to her, but he was ignored.
    “Does it have anything to do with Daddy makin such a joke of hisself tonight?” Tish asked. “Did you hear about it? I was so mortified I wanted to sink into the ground and disappear or be gobbled right up by a frog!”
    “Now daughter, that was jist him a-celebratin the news. It has been diskivvered that we air quality folks, and yore father has good reason to be proud! We’ve all got reason to be proud as Punch! We belong to a great fambly that goes back past the time of Joshua Crust Hisself, the time of the fabled pagan Ingledews of yore!”
    “Maw…” the boy Jubal attempted to gain her attention again but was again rebuffed.
    “What on earth are ye talkin about, Mother?” Tish asked.
    “Lissen a me, Tishy hon!” exclaimed Josie, nearly beside herself with excitement. “These news will make yore bosom swell! I swear if we aint all Ingledews! Yore dad wasn’t jist cuttin a dido when he said that! That were no flimflam windy lie-tale he picked up! He’s the rightful descendant of all the big Squire Ingledews!”
    “ Maw !” persisted the kid Jubal and claimed her notice. “Air we all of us squires now?”
    Josie looked down and sniffed down at her son. “No, you fool,” she said to him. “Jist me and yore Paw.”
    “I’m right glad to hear it, Mother, if it’s true,” Tish said, “but will it do us any good?”
    “Why, naturally, chile,” Josie declared. “We kin all go live in Partheeny!” She paused to let these words caress the lengths of every listening pair of tailprongs. The older siblings whispered dramatically among themselves, Partheeny ! and the middle siblings began explaining to the infant siblings what and where Partheeny was.
    Tish could not believe this fabulous likelihood, and she began casting about with her sniffwhips in search of her father, to have him confirm the possibility. “Whereabouts is Daddy at?” she asked her mother.
    Josie took on a flustered look. “Now don’t you go a-bustin out mad at yore pore ole pappy, Tishia gal, but he got so excited with the news that he went to see if they wouldn’t let him into the cookroom at Holy House.”
    “ What ?” Tish exclaimed. “Why, he’s off his rocker! How could you let him do such a thing?”
    Josie hung her head. “Wal, he’s allus had a hankerin fer some real beer, and who’m I to deny him? But I reckon I’d best go fetch him, afore he