"I was just wondering," Granny said meekly, "as I read this book if you had learned to eat raw fish yet?"
An angry flush stained Tessie's face, and she stamped her high-heeled shoe.
"No, I don't like raw fish!" she cried stormily. "And I don't ever expect to like raw fish! Why should I? Can't I have somebody cook fish for me?" she demanded haughtily.
"In the Sunshine Islands it's the custom to eat it raw," Granny said very gently, for she could recognize the beginning of a tantrum as well as any one. "And there isn't anything that's harder to change than a custom. When I read about the food and some other things in this book, and looked at a few of these pictures, I got to wondering how we are going to like those islands and the customs the people have there. You know, Tessie," she went on, when Tessie said never a word, but just stood sulkily tapping the rug with the pointed toe of her shoe, "when you came home from the Evergreen that day and told me about your Uncle Pete and how he had died and made you a queen, I couldn't think of anything but how wonderful it was. My boy a king! And my girl a queen! And I pictured those Sunshine Islands like England and Italy, and perhaps a little like the United States, even if the United States ain't got crowned kings and queens. It was so wonderful that I was all puffed up like bread sponge. But since we came to the Waloo, and I got so much time, no washing or cooking to do, I've looked into some of these books and talked to Ka-kee-ta as much as a body can talk to a critter that don't know more than the rudiments of real language, and I can't find that these islands are like any place I ever heard of. I don't know as we're going to like them. The folks don't all wear clothes," she confided to Tessie in a dubious whisper.
"I can teach them to wear clothes," Tessie said coldly. "I've talked to Mr. Kingley, and he's going to send me some clothes from the Evergreen. We're going to begin with bathing suits."
"Mr. Kingley's a real business man, ain't he? Always thinking of the Evergreen!" Granny had to admire Mr. Kingley's ability to think of his business at all times. She went on a bit sarcastically. "And is young Mr. Bill going to take charge and open a branch in the islands? It won't pay in your lifetime, Tessie. You mustn't count on it! It'll take more than Mr. Kingley's say-so to put even bathing suits on folks that don't wear anything but a bit of fringe around their waists. And it ain't only clothes," she added mournfully. "It's white ants and centipedes and snakes and sharks and——"
"For goodness sakes, Granny!" Tessie jumped when Granny spoke of sharks, and she was almost at the end of her patience when there was a loud thump on the door. "I do wish," exclaimed Tessie, glad of a legitimate reason to let Granny see that she had reached the end of her patience, "that Ka-kee-ta would learn to knock. I hate to hear him hit the door with his old ax!"
"That's just what I've been telling you," began Granny. "You ain't going to like the Sunshine Islands' way of doing things."
But Tessie did not listen to her. She walked to the door and threw it wide open. "Ka-kee-ta," she began sternly, but instead of facing Ka-kee-ta she looked at a fat man with a light, oh very light, hair, and a big nose. "Oh," Tessie murmured feebly. "Oh!"