Janie brushes right past Bro' Joe, intent on getting a closer look at the steamboat and that seabird all afire up at the wharf. She waves off the barker wanting her to waste a dollar on trying to win a counterfeit gi-tar. (Maybe she shouldn't have been so hasty--he don't know just how heavy those workboots she's a wearin' really are, what with the steel toes and all.)
    She is nearly running as she approaches the wharf, afraid she'll miss something. But a voice singing, and the sound of little feet tapping, clogging, pull her to a halt. She looks around and sees an old man over on the edge of the boardwalk. He's singing a song she remembers her grandpappy singing, and he's got a couple of those little clogging dolls dancing on a 1x6, much like the one grandpappy had made for her when she was just a youngin'.
She glances toward the wharf, but moves across the midway to stand in front of the old man and his dolls. She watches and listens, foot tapping. Finally she steps forward and commences to clog along with the dolls. She stops when the old man does, and for a minute they just grin at each other. Then she tosses her dollar in the hat and moves on down to wharf, hoping that bird ain't burned out yet.