Page:Poor Cecco - 1925.djvu/72

62 time they would have had! It seemed too bad that they should miss this, when Tubby so dearly loved dancing, and the only music they could get at home was the broken musical-box, that would only play three notes and then stop.

The blind man smiled; with his sightless eyes he was seeing again the old farmhouse kitchens in the country where he had been such a fine dancer in his youth, and all the girls were proud to stand up beside him. But presently his head drooped; his foot ceased to tap on the floor and he rose yawning and hung his fiddle up on the wall again. He was old and sleepy, and he wanted to smoke another pipe before he went to bed.

And now there was a rap at the door, and the little dog pulled back the latch. It was Mrs. Greypuss, who lived next door but one. She had tucked her babies in bed and come across in the rain to learn what the festivity was about.

“You’re having a good time here,” she said. “I thought I’d step over a minute and join you, seeing the storm is nearly over!”

So she sat down beside Bulka and Poor Cecco, who were still out of breath from dancing, and they chatted together while the fire died down in the stove and the old man nodded off to sleep, his pipe between his fingers; and presently Mrs. Greypuss, who could never sit idle for long, took a needle and thread from the useful little pocket that