THE GREAT BALL
THERE was some great secret in the air. For some time there had been much stir in and about the Teenie Weenie village beneath the rose bush. There were many secret meetings between the General and the Lady of Fashion, who seemed to be the leading spirits of it all. The Turk and the Cook and Gogo, under the direction of the Lady of Fashion, spent many days in the cellar of a certain house not far from Shoehurst. The Lovers’ bungalow was closed to all gentlemen callers every afternoon for several weeks, and it was reported that the little ladies who gathered there were sewing with might and main.
“By heck, it ’pears to me that there is somethin’ mighty queer goin’ on ’round here,” remarked Grandpa as he shuffled into the Chinaman’s laundry one afternoon. “Such carryin’s on I haven’t seen for a long time.”
“Allee same muchee slecrets,” said the Chinaman, putting down his tiny iron and pushing out a chair for his visitor.
“Secrets!” shouted the old man. “Why, bless my soul, the air is full of ’em, and I reckon it’s some of those new fangled ideas of the Lady of Fashion; she’s always up to somethin’ or t’other.”
“Allee same we fine out if we wait long enough,” laughed the Chinaman.
“Well, I ’spect you’re right,” growled Grandpa, “but we never did have any carryin’s on like that when I was a youngster.”
It wasn’t long before all the Teenie Weenies knew what the secret was, for one morning they each received a tiny invitation written neatly in the dainty hand of the Lady of Fashion.
It was a very formal invitation to a grand ball in the cellar of a certain house.