I was glad, however, that I did not see any snake-charmer.
What a delightful voice that negro had! Who could imagine that such a silvery sound could come from such a midnight face? It was like clear water out of the ground.
I was struck by a fancy.
I sprang up.
I attempted to imitate the high-kick dance.
I fell down abruptly.
“Jap’s short leg is no use in Amerikey—can’t achieve one thing. I am frankly tired of mine,” I grumbled.
19th—The Sunday chime was the voice of an angel. The city turned religious.
Mrs. Willis—I had no curiosity about her first name; it is meaningless for the “Mrs.” of middle age—indulged in chat with me.
If I say she was “sociable”?—it sounds so graceful.