midday
However one can , if one 's soul strains hard enough , dust and dream ; darn and dream . Especially if one has a helpful lilt , rhythmic to dust-cloth 's stroke or needle 's swing , throbbing like a strain of music through one 's head : Cosmos -- Cosmos ! -- Cosmos -- Cosmos ! Missy was absent-eyed at the midday dinner , but no sooner was the meal over before she feverishly attacked the darning-basket again . Her energy may have been explained when , as soon as the stockings were done , she asked her mother if she might go down to the Library . Mother and Aunt Nettie from their rocking-chairs on the side-porch watched the slim figure in its stiffly-starched white duck skirt and shirt-waist disappear down shady Locust Avenue . `` I wonder what Missy 's up to , now ? ''