necessities ever stopped Fanny from attending any town function.

If the buttonhook could not be found she set out with her shoes
unbuttoned, borrowing the necessary implement on the way. If she had
no hairpins she put her hair up temporarily with two knitting needles
or lead pencils or anything like that that came handy, stopped at
Jessup's, bought her hairpins, and while reporting news in Mrs. Green's
kitchen did up her hair without the aid of brush, comb or mirror.

This trait Fanny came by naturally. She had had a droll grandmother.
It was authentic history that once at the very moment when she was
getting ready to attend a Green Valley funeral this grandmother's false
teeth broke, leaving her somewhat dazed. But only for a moment, for
she was a woman with a perfect memory. She suddenly remembered that
the wife of the deceased had an old emergency set; so, slipping through
the back streets, she arrived at the house of grief, borrowed the new
widow's old teeth and wept as copiously and sincerely, albeit a little
carefully, over the remains as any one else there.

Now, scarcely waiting to regain her breath, Fanny turned to Nanny with
the usual explanations, only stopping to exclaim over Barney--"Land
sakes, Barney, what are you doing here!" A breath and then in sibilant
whispers:

"Well--I thought I'd never get here. When I come to dress I found the
children had cut up my corset into a harness for the dog and Jessup's
said they hadn't anybody to send up with a new one and John said he
couldn't go because his foot's bad, him having stepped on the rake
yesterday afternoon and not wanting to irritate it, so's he could go to
work tomorrow as usual. And Grandma's up to Billy Evans' trying to