“Oh, they’re a lot of fun. Everybody goes to them. They do square dancing and sometimes they do regular dancing besides. They have a caller, a man who plays the fiddle and directs the dancing so you know what steps to use. It’s not hard to learn.”
“It sounds like a good time,” said Jean.
“OK, then, I’ll pick you up about eight. That be all right?”
“Swell, Buzzy. Gee, I’d better go! Something’s burning.” With that Jean turned and ran back into the kitchen, feeling happier than she had since the family had moved to Woodhow. When she told her mother about it later, Mrs. Craig agreed that Buzzy was very nice indeed to have offered to show her some of the fun of living in the country.
Saturday night promptly at eight o’clock, Buzzy appeared at the front door with his hair slicked down, his shoes polished, and looking quite different from the boy who worked in the fields all day in overalls. Jean opened the door for him, wearing a pretty light blue cotton dress that set off her dark hair.
“Hi, Buzzy. Come on in. I’m all ready.” She picked up her bag, called good night to her family and they went out.
It was a lovely spring evening, the smell of cherry blossoms hung in the air and the moon was beginning to come up over the hills. Buzzy opened the door of his battered jalopy and Jean got in. Walking around to the other side of the car, Buzzy broke off a sprig of cherry blossoms and tossed them into Jean’s lap. She turned and smiled at him as she fastened the flowers in her hair.
“Gee, you look nice tonight, Jeannie,” he said, and abruptly started the car.
Judging by the number of cars parked when they arrived at the Grange, there were already a number of people there before them. Inside they found quite a crowd. A square dance had already begun, so Jean and Buzzy stood watching the twirling mass of people dance by them.
“Gosh, they dance so fast. I’ll never be able to do it,” exclaimed Jean. “Does just that one fiddler play all evening?”