Lily was tired when she came home at 1AM. She walked through the quiet house. She showed and looked in on Rose. She was fast asleep with Ben Ben the monkey in her arms. She gently kissed her head.
She went to Bert and her's room. He was fast asleep to. She stood there a moment and admired this handsome man that made her feel complete.
As she got into bed she was pulled close. "Did you have a good night?" he asked.
"Tiring all the crazies are out." She said.
"Then let me hold you and make it better." He then kissed her and held her tight.
She was so glad that Rose tripped over this guy.
◇◇◇♡♡♡◇◇◇
Bell went over all the instructions from the staff before they left for the holiday. She had made detailed notes on everything.
"Bella, stop it and sit down." The Beast roared.
"This is our first Thanksgiving and I want it to go well." Bella roared back.
He just shook his head.
"Everything will be great. I even double check to make sure all the kids and adults had swimsuits. The movie room is also all set up with Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving." Zane said.
Sit down and let me read to you. Bella followed him to the couch to snuggle up and listen to his voice.
◇◇◇♡♡♡◇◇◇ THE MAGIC BON BONS
There lived in Boston a wise and ancient chemist by the name of Dr. Daws, who dabbled somewhat in magic.
There also lived in Boston a young lady by the name of Claribel Sudds, who was possessed of much money, little wit and an intense desire to go upon the stage. So Claribel went to Dr. Daws and said: "I can neither sing nor dance; I cannot recite verse nor play upon the piano; I am no acrobat nor leaper nor high kicker; yet I wish to go upon the stage. What shall I do?"
"Are you willing to pay for such accomplishments?" asked the wise chemist.
"Certainly," answered Claribel, jingling her purse.
"Then come to me to-morrow at two o'clock," said he.
All that night he practiced what is known as chemical sorcery; so that when Claribel Sudds came next day at two o'clock he showed her a small box filled with compounds that closely resembled French bonbons.
"This is a progressive age," said the old man, "and I flatter myself your Uncle Daws keeps right along with the procession. Now, one of your old-fashioned sorcerers would have made you some nasty, bitter pills to swallow; but I have consulted your taste and convenience. Here are some magic bonbons. If you eat this one with the lavender color you can dance thereafter as lightly and gracefully as if you had been trained a lifetime. After you consume the pink confection you will sing like a nightingale. Eating the white one will enable you to become the finest elocutionist in the land. The chocolate piece will charm you into playing the piano better than Rubenstein, while after eating you lemon-yellow bonbon you can easily kick six feet above your head."
"How delightful!" exclaimed Claribel, who was truly enraptured. "You are certainly a most clever sorcerer as well as a considerate compounder," and she held out her hand for the box.
"Ahem!" said the wise one; "a check, please."
"Oh, yes; to be sure! How stupid of me to forget it," she returned.
He considerately retained the box in his own hand while she signed a check for a large amount of money, after which he allowed her to hold the box herself.
"Are you sure you have made them strong enough?" she inquired, anxiously; "it usually takes a great deal to affect me."
"My only fear," replied Dr. Daws, "is that I have made them too strong. For this is the first time I have ever been called upon to prepare these wonderful confections."
"Don't worry," said Claribel; "the stronger they act the better I shall act myself."
She went away, after saying this, but stopping in at a dry goods store to shop, she forgot the precious box in her new interest and left it lying on the ribbon counter.
Then little Bessie Bostwick came to the counter to buy a hair ribbon and laid her parcels beside the box. When she went away she gathered up the box with her other bundles and trotted off home with it.
Bessie never knew, until after she had hung her coat in the hall closet and counted up her parcels, that she had one too many.
Then she opened it and exclaimed: "Why, it's a box of candy! Someone must have mislaid it. But it is too small a matter to worry about; there are only a few pieces."
So she dumped the contents of the box into a bonbon dish that stood upon the hall table and picking out the chocolate piece—she was fond of chocolates—ate it daintily while she examined her purchases.
These were not many, for Bessie was only twelve years old and was not yet trusted by her parents to expend much money at the stores. But while she tried on the hair ribbon she suddenly felt a great desire to play upon the piano, and the desire at last became so overpowering that she went into the parlor and opened the instrument.
The little girl had, with infinite pains, contrived to learn two "pieces" which she usually executed with a jerky movement of her right hand and a left hand that forgot to keep up and so made dreadful discords.
But under the influence of the chocolate bonbon she sat down and ran her fingers lightly over the keys producing such exquisite harmony that she was filled with amazement at her own performance.
That was the prelude, however. The next moment she dashed into Beethoven's seventh sonata and played it magnificently.
Her mother, hearing the unusual burst of melody, came downstairs to see what musical guest had arrived; but when she discovered it was her own little daughter who was playing so divinely she had an attack of palpitation of the heart (to which she was subject) and sat down upon a sofa until it should pass away.
Meanwhile Bessie played one piece after another with untiring energy. She loved music, and now found that all she need do was to sit at the piano and listen and watch her hands twinkle over the keyboard.
Twilight deepened in the room and Bessie's father came home and hung up his hat and overcoat and placed his umbrella in the rack. Then he peeped into the parlor to see who was playing. "Great Caesar!" he exclaimed.
But the mother came to him softly with her finger on her lips and whispered: "Don't interrupt her, John. Our child seems to be in a trance. Did you ever hear such superb music?"
"Why, she's an infant prodigy!" gasped the astounded father.