And she liked the house itself, with its many unusual and delightful appurtenances: no piano--an organ in the parlour, the treadles of which you must remember to keep pumping, or the music would wheeze and stop; the “what-not” in the corner, its shelves filled with fascinating curios--shells of all kinds, especially a big conch shell which, held close to the ear, still sang a song of the sea; the marble-topped centre-table, and on it the interesting “album” of family photographs, and the mysterious contrivance which made so lifelike the double “views” you placed in the holder; and the lamp with its shade dripping crystal bangles, like huge raindrops off an umbrella; and the crocheted “tidies” on all the rocking-chairs, and the carpet-covered footstools sitting demurely round on the floor, and the fringed lambrequin on the mantel, and the enormous fan of peacock feathers spreading out on the wall--oh, yes, grandma's was a fascinating place!
Then besides, of course, she adored grandpa and grandma. They were charming and unlike other people, and very, very good. Grandpa was slow-moving, and tall and broad--even taller and broader than father; and he must be terribly wise because he was Justice-of-the-Peace, and because he didn't talk much. Other children thought him a person to be feared somewhat, but Missy liked to tuck her hand in his enormous one and talk to him about strange, mysterious things.
Grandma wasn't nearly so big--indeed she wasn't much taller than Missy herself; and she was proud of her activity--her “spryness,” she called it. She boasted of her ability to stoop over and, without bending her knees, to lay both palms flat on the floor. Even Missy's mother couldn't do that, and sometimes she seemed to grow a little tired of being reminded of it. Grandma liked to talk as much as grandpa liked to keep silent; and always, to the running accompaniment of her tongue, she kept her hands busied, whether “puttering about” in her house or flower-garden, or crocheting “tidies,” or knitting little mittens, or creating the multi-coloured paper-flowers which helped make her house so alluring.
That night for supper they had beefsteak and hot biscuits and custard pie; and grandma let her eat these delicacies which were forbidden at home. She even let her drink coffee! Not that Missy cared especially for coffee--it had a bitter taste; but drinking it made her feel grown-up. She always felt more grown-up at grandma's than at home. She was “company,” and they showed her a consideration one never receives at home.