told me I must try to forget the bad things, and I'm trying to.
"Mamma was learning a dance with a dagger in it, and it had a wild tune that kind of got on Papa's nerves, and she practiced it all the time, and danced and danced. I had to keep the Victrola going for hours at a time and play the same record over and over, and she would whirl around and around and pretend to stick the dagger in Papa. She was just teasing him and I knew it and laughed, until I saw he was scared of her. My, she was pretty when she whirled around! The dagger wasn't anything but a paper knife and couldn't have hurt him even if she had struck real hard. One day she had practiced her dance until she knew it almost perfectly, and was just going to stop. She signaled to me to stop the Victrola and then she gave a final whirl and twirled on her toes right by Papa's couch. He had not been off it for weeks then. Every morning he bathed and dressed and got back on his couch, where he smoked and dozed all day. As I was saying, Mamma gave a twirl and cried out: 'Loafer!' and pretended to stick the dagger in Papa's heart. But just before she touched him she saw his eyes and gave a scream and dropped by his side, and I didn't know it wasn't part of her
