said, he'd have to give up a day of deer hunting.
No, he won't. You don't know him like I do. Besides, if he was coming, he wouldn't call to warn us, he'd just be here." Another pause.
"No, you're wrong. He's out in the woods, is where he is.
He's out there laughing at you for believing him. Believe me, he's out in the middle of the woods.
Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll get lost and freeze to death out there.
That'd be a break, huh?" To Miss Beryl's way of thinking, the most objectionable thing about this objectionable conversation was the fact that the child was listening to it. Since the little girl was still staring at her, Miss Beryl picked up her red, two-headed Foo dog from the coffee table and showed it to the little girl. The dog had the same grinning head on both ends of its body.
"See my Foo dog?" she said, offering the stuffed animal to the child, who made no move to take it. Miss Beryl rotated the dog so that the child could see its two heads, that it was the same at both ends. If the little girl noticed this unusual feature, she gave no sign, though she studied the animal dully.
"You know what a Foo dog says?" Miss Beryl asked. The child's good eye found her again.
"Foo on you," Miss Beryl said, hoping for a smile. The little girl's eye again found the animal, again studied it seriously, as if to determine whether the dog in question would say such a thing.
"I call him Sully," Miss Beryl said, "because he doesn't know whether he's coming or going." This time when she offered the animal, the child took it, without enthusiasm, almost as if she were doing Miss Beryl a favor.
"Yeah .. . yeah .. .
yeah," the child's mother was saying.
"Okay, I'll go upstairs if I can talk her into letting me. Call me up there in half an hour. You should see the phone I'm talking into. It must've been made during the Civil War.. .. Okay.... o back to work.. ..
Yeah, okay." When she hung up the phone, the young woman picked the little girl up and rubbed noses with her.
"False alarm, Birdbrain.
Daddy pulled a fast one on Grandma. He's probably real proud of himself too. Daddy doesn't get to outsmart people very often." Then, to Miss Beryl, "You gonna let us go upstairs, or what?"
"I guess if you know Mr. Sullivan, he won't mind," Miss Beryl said.
"Yeah, well, I don't know him," said the young woman on her way to the door.
"He's been balling my mother for about twenty years, though.
She's the one who knows him. " Once again. Miss Beryl was speechless.
She watched her visitors go, watched the door close behind them, watched it open again.
"Here's your dog back," the young woman said, setting the Foo dog back on the table.
"And thanks again for the phone." She cast a half-amused, half-contemptuous glance around Miss Beryl's flat.
"You're missing the boat. You should charge admission to see this place." When she was gone again and the child's and the mother's footsteps had climbed the stairs and entered the room above.
Miss Beryl found her voice again.
"Well," she said to Clive Sr.
"What do you think of that?" Before her dead husband could answer, the phone rang.
"Now what?" Miss Beryl said. It was Mrs. Gruber, whom Miss Beryl had forgotten completely.
"I'm coming," Miss Beryl told her.
"Keep your girdle on."
" S7
There were only half a dozen paved roads into and out of North Bath.
In addition to Route 27A, the two-lane blacktop that became Main (Upper and Lower) within the city limits, there were five other narrow two-lanes linking Bath to its neighbors: Schuyler Springs to the north and smaller communities like Shaker Heights, Dollsville, Wapford, Glen.
And there was the new four-lane spur that linked Bath to the interstate that ran between Albany and Montreal. The new spur was just three miles long, traversing the large tract of marshy land that separated Bath from the interstate, the future site, according to a large billboard planted just off the roadway, of the five-hundred-acre "Ultimate Escape Fun
No, he won't. You don't know him like I do. Besides, if he was coming, he wouldn't call to warn us, he'd just be here." Another pause.
"No, you're wrong. He's out in the woods, is where he is.
He's out there laughing at you for believing him. Believe me, he's out in the middle of the woods.
Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll get lost and freeze to death out there.
That'd be a break, huh?" To Miss Beryl's way of thinking, the most objectionable thing about this objectionable conversation was the fact that the child was listening to it. Since the little girl was still staring at her, Miss Beryl picked up her red, two-headed Foo dog from the coffee table and showed it to the little girl. The dog had the same grinning head on both ends of its body.
"See my Foo dog?" she said, offering the stuffed animal to the child, who made no move to take it. Miss Beryl rotated the dog so that the child could see its two heads, that it was the same at both ends. If the little girl noticed this unusual feature, she gave no sign, though she studied the animal dully.
"You know what a Foo dog says?" Miss Beryl asked. The child's good eye found her again.
"Foo on you," Miss Beryl said, hoping for a smile. The little girl's eye again found the animal, again studied it seriously, as if to determine whether the dog in question would say such a thing.
"I call him Sully," Miss Beryl said, "because he doesn't know whether he's coming or going." This time when she offered the animal, the child took it, without enthusiasm, almost as if she were doing Miss Beryl a favor.
"Yeah .. . yeah .. .
yeah," the child's mother was saying.
"Okay, I'll go upstairs if I can talk her into letting me. Call me up there in half an hour. You should see the phone I'm talking into. It must've been made during the Civil War.. .. Okay.... o back to work.. ..
Yeah, okay." When she hung up the phone, the young woman picked the little girl up and rubbed noses with her.
"False alarm, Birdbrain.
Daddy pulled a fast one on Grandma. He's probably real proud of himself too. Daddy doesn't get to outsmart people very often." Then, to Miss Beryl, "You gonna let us go upstairs, or what?"
"I guess if you know Mr. Sullivan, he won't mind," Miss Beryl said.
"Yeah, well, I don't know him," said the young woman on her way to the door.
"He's been balling my mother for about twenty years, though.
She's the one who knows him. " Once again. Miss Beryl was speechless.
She watched her visitors go, watched the door close behind them, watched it open again.
"Here's your dog back," the young woman said, setting the Foo dog back on the table.
"And thanks again for the phone." She cast a half-amused, half-contemptuous glance around Miss Beryl's flat.
"You're missing the boat. You should charge admission to see this place." When she was gone again and the child's and the mother's footsteps had climbed the stairs and entered the room above.
Miss Beryl found her voice again.
"Well," she said to Clive Sr.
"What do you think of that?" Before her dead husband could answer, the phone rang.
"Now what?" Miss Beryl said. It was Mrs. Gruber, whom Miss Beryl had forgotten completely.
"I'm coming," Miss Beryl told her.
"Keep your girdle on."
" S7
There were only half a dozen paved roads into and out of North Bath.
In addition to Route 27A, the two-lane blacktop that became Main (Upper and Lower) within the city limits, there were five other narrow two-lanes linking Bath to its neighbors: Schuyler Springs to the north and smaller communities like Shaker Heights, Dollsville, Wapford, Glen.
And there was the new four-lane spur that linked Bath to the interstate that ran between Albany and Montreal. The new spur was just three miles long, traversing the large tract of marshy land that separated Bath from the interstate, the future site, according to a large billboard planted just off the roadway, of the five-hundred-acre "Ultimate Escape Fun
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