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Just then another waitress in the same yellow and white striped
blouse came bounding down the counter hunting for a bottle of cat-
sup. Her sharp eyes widened when she saw the doily on the counter.
"Oh, did some kid leave another one of those goofy things? That's
a ... " Her words stopped suddenly when she noticed the hurt look
on the old man's face.

''I'll bet that you couldn't make one," he said quietly in defense.
"No, I'm sure of that." She glanced away, and spying a bottle of
catsup, excused herself.
Anne was in a dilemma. She had a strong urge to giggle. Awk-
wardly standing in front of the old man she said, "We need about
nine more of them, sir." The man's eyes smiled, and his face relaxed
a little.
"They're pretty tricky to make," he said. Pulling out another
napkin, he first opened it flat and then began folding it. "Of course
they're much prettier in color and better when you don't have to
tear 'em."
''I'm sure of that, sir." Anne shifted her weight uneasily as a new
group of customers sat at the counter. "Oh, excuse me, sir, I have some
customers. Do you mind paying now?" He stopped folding his nap-
kin, slouched a little, and pushed a dime toward her. A little shakily
he picked up his cup and began sipping his coffee.
Anne busily flew from the grill to customers, and when next she
looked. the red stool behind the white doily was empty. With a warm
damp rag she began to clear off his place. Beside the coffee cup she
found a small pile of doilies, one for each sugar cup on the long
counter. She smiled, picked up the coffee cup and saucer and found
a quarter!

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