I carefully tied Feather to the fence in front of the store. The notices tacked up outside caught my eye: a wrestling match at “the usual place,” a shooting contest at the Muster Field, and a horse auction at the Wiggins Tavern.
I noticed that the final item posted on the front of Towne’s store was a notice for a dance at the Perkins Tavern on Saturday night. I thought about the dancing school taught by a traveling dancing master at Perkins Tavern about a year and a half before. My mother and father had insisted that I attend. I had reluctantly agreed to go, since I had not wanted to vex my mother, so very ill at the time. No boy had asked me to stand up with him, however. Not one. As I had been far too shy to line up on the dance floor without a partner, I had sat by the wall in the best wallflower tradition.
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