tam-o’-shanter she wore, the effect of which was more than a little spoiled by the fact that she wore her hair screwed into a high knot on the top of her head.
It looked like he couldn’t in decency escape this time. But he would shove off as soon as he could.
Chapter 7
C HIEF YEOMAN DANIEL CALLAHAN MALONE did not leave the Spanish class at the seven-thirty recess. That was the farthest thing from his mind.
Class was already under way when the four of them arrived. Luckily there were four empty seats close together. Danny felt like a bull in a china shop, but after he got his bearings he began looking around the room for the teacher. It couldn’t be the cupcake writing stuff on the blackboard. Not a chance! She was a cute doll. Must be some stenographer taking up Spanish.
Mrs. Feeley reached over and kicked Danny on the ankle. When he looked up she jerked her thumb indicating the cupcake: her lips formed the word ‘teacher.’ Danny rolled his head about on his neck in the manner of one who has just received a knockout blow. His aunt nodded and winked broadly as one who says, ‘So I don’t know from nothin’, huh?’
Kate Logan was not exactly unaware of the visitor in uniform. She was glad she had just had her hair done, and that she was wearing her lime-green suit with the coral angora sweater. It did something for her; made her eyes look navy blue. Maybe it was an omen! Not bad, she said to herself. Not bad at all! Probably married; a wife in every port. Those cute ones never last till the water gets hot. But he was a bright spot in the drab landscape of the classroom, anyway. That was the bell! She’d make some excuse and go over to speak to Mrs. Feeley.
But she need not have given the matter a thought, for Mrs. Feeley was already halfway across the room with Danny in tow before the bell had stopped buzzing.
‘This is my nephew I was tellin’ you about. Miss Logan, Danny Malone! An’ this is Miss Logan, Danny; smartest teacher in the New Nited States!’
Miss Logan said she was glad to know him and hadn’t they better step out into the patio? He was probably dying for a cigarette.
‘You two go on,’ said Mrs. Feeley, shoving them out the door. ‘I want to copy them words down off the blackboard. We was a little late, an’ I don’t want to miss nothin’,’ she lied glibly. True it was that she didn’t want to miss anything, but she wasn’t referring to the vocabulary list on the blackboard.
The ten-minute intermission was all too short for Danny. Miss Logan was certainly all that his ‘aunts’ had said, and more. But he better not go jumping the gun and getting ideas. He would be due for a bad jolt if she should only turn out to be showing him the cordiality she showed all visitors.
Mrs. Feeley suffered from no such feeling of diffidence. When the class session drew to a close, she and her cohorts lingered near the door trying to hear what was going on while Danny was telling Miss Logan how nice it had been to meet her. His aunt hoped to heaven he wasn’t being backward. Things seemed to be going quite well and they came out the door together.
‘You ain’t never come over to see us like you promised, Miss Logan!’ Mrs. Feeley scolded gently. ‘We got some awful nice cold beer home, an’ some mighty fine artichokes! Seems like you’d be all wore out after all that teachin’ so hard! What say you come along home with us? ‘Tain’t often Danny gets the chance to enjoy the company of a nice young lady like you! Him out fightin’ for his country an’ all!’ Mrs. Feeley turned on the tremolo.
‘You’re very kind, Mrs. Feeley! I’ve been planning to come over, but these classes five nights a week rather cramp my style.’
‘Well, you ain’t got no excuse tonight!’ Mrs. Feeley urged. Mrs. Rasmussen and Miss Tinkham were watching Danny to see how he was taking it. Miss Tinkham decided to try out her powers of persuasion.
‘Tomorrow is Saturday and you could sleep late!
It looked like he couldn’t in decency escape this time. But he would shove off as soon as he could.
Chapter 7
C HIEF YEOMAN DANIEL CALLAHAN MALONE did not leave the Spanish class at the seven-thirty recess. That was the farthest thing from his mind.
Class was already under way when the four of them arrived. Luckily there were four empty seats close together. Danny felt like a bull in a china shop, but after he got his bearings he began looking around the room for the teacher. It couldn’t be the cupcake writing stuff on the blackboard. Not a chance! She was a cute doll. Must be some stenographer taking up Spanish.
Mrs. Feeley reached over and kicked Danny on the ankle. When he looked up she jerked her thumb indicating the cupcake: her lips formed the word ‘teacher.’ Danny rolled his head about on his neck in the manner of one who has just received a knockout blow. His aunt nodded and winked broadly as one who says, ‘So I don’t know from nothin’, huh?’
Kate Logan was not exactly unaware of the visitor in uniform. She was glad she had just had her hair done, and that she was wearing her lime-green suit with the coral angora sweater. It did something for her; made her eyes look navy blue. Maybe it was an omen! Not bad, she said to herself. Not bad at all! Probably married; a wife in every port. Those cute ones never last till the water gets hot. But he was a bright spot in the drab landscape of the classroom, anyway. That was the bell! She’d make some excuse and go over to speak to Mrs. Feeley.
But she need not have given the matter a thought, for Mrs. Feeley was already halfway across the room with Danny in tow before the bell had stopped buzzing.
‘This is my nephew I was tellin’ you about. Miss Logan, Danny Malone! An’ this is Miss Logan, Danny; smartest teacher in the New Nited States!’
Miss Logan said she was glad to know him and hadn’t they better step out into the patio? He was probably dying for a cigarette.
‘You two go on,’ said Mrs. Feeley, shoving them out the door. ‘I want to copy them words down off the blackboard. We was a little late, an’ I don’t want to miss nothin’,’ she lied glibly. True it was that she didn’t want to miss anything, but she wasn’t referring to the vocabulary list on the blackboard.
The ten-minute intermission was all too short for Danny. Miss Logan was certainly all that his ‘aunts’ had said, and more. But he better not go jumping the gun and getting ideas. He would be due for a bad jolt if she should only turn out to be showing him the cordiality she showed all visitors.
Mrs. Feeley suffered from no such feeling of diffidence. When the class session drew to a close, she and her cohorts lingered near the door trying to hear what was going on while Danny was telling Miss Logan how nice it had been to meet her. His aunt hoped to heaven he wasn’t being backward. Things seemed to be going quite well and they came out the door together.
‘You ain’t never come over to see us like you promised, Miss Logan!’ Mrs. Feeley scolded gently. ‘We got some awful nice cold beer home, an’ some mighty fine artichokes! Seems like you’d be all wore out after all that teachin’ so hard! What say you come along home with us? ‘Tain’t often Danny gets the chance to enjoy the company of a nice young lady like you! Him out fightin’ for his country an’ all!’ Mrs. Feeley turned on the tremolo.
‘You’re very kind, Mrs. Feeley! I’ve been planning to come over, but these classes five nights a week rather cramp my style.’
‘Well, you ain’t got no excuse tonight!’ Mrs. Feeley urged. Mrs. Rasmussen and Miss Tinkham were watching Danny to see how he was taking it. Miss Tinkham decided to try out her powers of persuasion.
‘Tomorrow is Saturday and you could sleep late!
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