Suds In Your Eye by Mary Lasswell

soul where his aunt was concerned, he would have been suspicious of the gleam that suddenly lighted his aunt’s eyes.
    An idea was being born. Inspiration flashed in her mind like a neon sign. Mrs. Feeley rocked faster and faster. That was the answer! What business did a beautiful boy like her nephew have wasting his few precious hours ashore with a bunch of old hens?
    ‘Ain’t you never got you a girl yet?’ she probed.
    ‘Naw! I don’t care for the kind of bar-flies I meet! We’re never ashore long enough to meet decent girls!’
    His aunt heaved a sigh of relief.
    Mrs. Rasmussen called them to supper and after Danny had greeted Old-Timer they all sat down. Danny remarked on how nice the table looked and Miss Tinkham was glad she had fixed that bouquet of roses and sweet peas for the centerpiece; next time he came she’d have candles—pink candles.
    ‘I haven’t tasted chow like this since we were in Marseilles!’ Danny said after he had sampled what Mrs. Rasmussen called ‘fish stew on account o’ it’s Friday.’ He wondered where a Norsewoman could have picked up the recipe for bouillabaisse…saffron, garlic, and all! Funny how she served it the real way, too: the fish and shellfish on a platter, and the chunks of bread floating in a separate tureen of the soup. The fish was such a success that the diners had scarcely enough room left to do justice to the second course of artichokes stuffed with bread crumbs and cheese. They only ate two each.
    ‘Guess they didn’t come good!’ the chef lamented. When the company reassured her that it was only their capacities that stopped them she felt better. She had bought the artichokes for a cent apiece because they were turning brown outside. That was nothing, for she always discarded the tough outside leaves, anyway. She had cooked the whole two dozen at once to save gas, and also because they kept better after they were cooked.
    ‘Go good with the beer when they’re cold,’ she added. They had lemon cheesecake for dessert, and strong black coffee. They always finished off with coffee on school nights. Mrs. Feeley said it didn’t show respect to go in reeking like a brewery. Miss Tinkham had apparently forgotten about school in the excitement of Danny’s arrival, because she had overlooked the coffee-cups when she set the table.
    ‘You ain’t forgot school, have you?’ Mrs. Feeley’s tone was shocked.
    ‘The excitement, my dear! It simply slipped my mind!’ Miss Tinkham was really flustered. How on earth could she have forgotten the cups? That was what came of having a young, handsome man in the house!
    Danny said he would shove off to town when they went to school and come back later.
    ‘You’ll do nothin’ o’ the kind!’ his aunt shrieked. ‘You’re comin’ with us!’
    Danny laughed and said that would indeed be the day! Any time you caught him at night school! He had seen the bunch of chromos that were up there when he went up to learn shorthand! Never again!
    ‘Well, you can at least do your old aunt a favor, can’t you? It’ll not kill you, just this once,’ she wheedled and cajoled. ‘Tell you what! The class starts at half-past six, an’ there’s recess at half-past seven. If you don’t like it, you can leave then an’ go on down-town! That’s fair enough, ain’t it? An’ you’ll be doin’ a good deed, too; the poor thing’s attendance is fallin’ off somethin’ terrible with most o’ the ships gone to sea! If the class falls below seventeen scholars, they’ll close it up on her! We’ve even took Old-Timer when things was real bad, ain’t we?’
    ‘Oh, you must come! You really must!’ Miss Tinkham added her weight to the argument. ‘You’ll love Miss Logan! Such a lovely girl!’
    Danny could well imagine. A lovely girl like the young thing of sixty that had taught him his shorthand. She had worn a bilious green frock with a crocheted collar that was never quite clean. He remembered the black velvet