The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-04-19
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cheeks flushed, smiling in bright abandon because she did not real ize that anything so gay as a Paul Jones might bring it's difficulties
 For circle!" ordered the leader and quickly they all joined hands and swung around the floor, humming the rhythm of the music. Right and left!" Once more they wove their way in and out, the ladies to the right, the gentlemen to their left, with all ways those uncertain few who could not make up their minds as to which was right and which was left.
 Then Joyce, stepping along mer- rily, hand over hand, looked down the line of approaching men and caught her breath. "Lord~ she thought, Hook what's coming!" For there, directly in front of her, just one man removed now, was pudgy MT. O'Hara, still sWaying unsteadily but beaming assuredly under a Ma poleonic hat of vivid red.
 She cast a quick glance at the orchestra leader, praying that he would hold off another minute before blowing his whistle.
 "Wel-l?ll"
 Now she was in MT. O'Hara's arms, and he, unmindful of the routine of the dance, took quick advantage of the situation. He led her out of the circle, stepped her into brisk, old-time two- step. Presently the whistle did sound, and the others resumed the dancing, so there was nothing to do but enjoy these few moments of MT. O'Hara's brief abandon ment.
 "Thas the little grill" he ap- proved heartily. well show 'em. Boy. you're some li'l stopper, baby!
 Perhaps the afternoon had so- bered him; perhaps the music up- lifted him. Whatever it was, there was no weakening in his spirit. True, he was out of step and in- capable of keeping off tender toes, but what he lacked in technique he more than made up for in en- thusiasm.
 How're we doing, beautiful? Not so bad for an ol guy, am I?"
 In between his casual remarks, his lusty voice would now and then be raised exubrantly, in tune and out of tune, to the or chestra's selection.
 After the first few steps, Joyce forgot to worry about him. Let him have his fun, she thought, with bit of Aunt Martha's phi losophy. After all, he doesn't have much chance, not with Old Pickle Fuss always behind him
 The whistle sounded once more, and the dancers fell into a line of march. But not MT. O'Hara.
 Think I'm going to change partners now?" he demanded. No, sir-e-e-e!"
 So they kept up a little dance of their own, dance which was bit of a two-step, and some thing of a foxtrot, and not a tall unlike an Alabama cake walk. And the others who danced turned to look at them, and those who sat at nearby tables laughed ap- preciatively, and Joyce laughed too because-well, what of it?
 
 Into a circle the dancers formed, and MT. O'Hara continued his little speciality in the very center of it, while those about paused for a mo- ment to applaud his efforts. Right and left went the dancers and pres- ently new partners found each other quickly at the sound of the whistle. And still Joyce danced with Napoleon OHara.
 Now, prancing past the captain he smiled proudly. "Ho'm doin', Captain?" And Captain Boyer grinned good-naturedly. "Fine!" he assured him.
 But enough is enough, Joyce decided. The precipitation was forming in tiny beads on her fore head, and her feet could stand no more, yet her partner showed no indication of giving up.