"Let's not go home, Drusilla; let's miss supper."
"It's bean night, anyway," said another. "Let's stay."
Five pairs of dim old eyes looked at Drusilla beseechingly.
"Well, we'll stay just a little while longer," she concluded.
The little while quite likely would have been the rest of the evening if the performance had not finished for the afternoon. They rose with a sigh and left the theater. When they started to help Grandma Perkins into the car, she stopped with one foot on the step.
"Drusilla, I want to ride with the man," she said.
"Oh, but, Grandma, you'd catch cold," Drusilla objected.
"I wouldn't," she wailed, "and I want to. I might jest as well die fer a sheep as a lamb, and I won't never git no chance again to feel myself goin' through the air with nothin' in front of me."
"But, Grandma—"
The old lip quivered, and the eyes filled childishly.