Grandma swished her skirt around. Her eyes widened. The whole back from the waist down was gone. "Why, whatever in the world!" she gasped.
Paul and Maureen began to shriek in laughter. "The nanny goat!"
"Like I said," Grandpa roared, "Missus Beebe'll allus feel mighty close to that nanny."
Grandma flounced to the drawer where she kept her aprons. In pretended anger she took out two. "I'll just wear 'em both," she said. "One fore and one aft."
There was much to be done before bedtime—the ponies in the hay house to be grained and watered, the nanny and her kid to be tended to, kindling to be brought in. And late as it was, Grandma got down on her hands and knees and scrubbed the floor with vigor and strong naphtha soap.
When she had almost finished, Maureen, muddy but radiant, sloshed into the back hall. "Guess what, Grandma!"
"What now?" Grandma asked without looking up. Her lips were set in a thin line as she carefully pushed the basket of kittens back under the stove. "Now what you so tickled about?"
"Feel in my pocket!"