some about Congress. In Denver the jokes were about Denver. How do they know? But the man who took off Charlie Chaplin was almost as funny, especially when his little mustache fell off. Next came a woman singer in a tight black spangled dress. Women look homely when they yell and breathe so hard. Lucy leaned across Semy to speak to Clem. How did Semy get the seat next to her? "Psst, Clem. Such a fatty. How would you like to paint her?"
The woman in back of her said sh-sh loudly. The idea of talking out loud. Glaring at Lucy, she applauded the singer through the last bow. The name of the singer disappeared from the lighted glass case above the bass fiddle. The Starlings. Lucy rolled her gum into a ball and stuck it under the arm of her seat so nothing would deflect her from study.
A slender long-jawed sleek young man, with a piano accordion for a body, and lithe cream flannel legs, moved easily across the stage, followed by a girl, as thin and almost his height, with light-brown, no, dark-blonde, hair, wearing a dress more like an actual dress than a stage costume. Not even silk!
For heaven's sake! He's kind of cute. Is that all they do? Just those softshoe steps back and forth? Not even using a whole stage, only that narrow space in front of that street scene. I can do harder things. You need a whole stage for tours jetés and fouettés. The intricate rhythmical pattern, the result of invention, trial, elimination, endless practice, the nervous sense of timing and personal projection which gave the audience spontaneous pleasure, were lost on Lucy. A dancer, she thought, should do things not everyone could do. Leaps, spins, and certainly wear a stunning costume. I'll bet he's a swell ballroom dancer. They'd be better if they did a ballroom act. She'd look prettier in a chiffon dress.
She had applauded hard at the end of each previous act but this time patronizingly because she was better than these two Nebraskans everyone was so crazy about. When the last bow was taken Lucy leaned back and beamed contentedly, tapping her foot in time to the vamp for the next act because she couldn't wait to practice.
The Starlings' drop rose to reveal a full stage. Two carpenters appeared. She nudged Mae. "This is old stuff. We saw this in Denver—remember? They build a house and then it falls down."
"Well," Lucy said as she and Mae lay in bed rehearsing the evening, "so that's what they think is wonderful in Omaha. How do
