| Near the stamp vending machine, an elderly
gentleman tipped his grey flannel hat. "Good day, Miss," he said. |
| "Springsoling,"
replied Margaret. With this one word, she conveyed all the pleasures of
youth, feeling light on her feet, strutting with the confidence of a still
virginal nymphette. Now if the old man could just pass this word to his
neighbors, and they in turn might repeat the word to a growing circle.
Well! Soon the whole world would be springsoling with her. |
| On the steps outside the post office, Margaret
paused to observe a boy who showing off a golden caterpillar
to several onlookers. "Caterjoyed,"
Margaret said, loud enough to draw attention. With this new term, she shared
multi-legged happiness, assuming that both the word and the mood would
spread. |
