Polly Parker was awake before the roosters would crow back in her hometown. Annoying everyone from the tall to the small, until the farmer went out to shut them up. A scattering of feed usually did the trick.

Out of bed like it was a trampoline, Polly traded her sleep clothes, mostly a nightgown that came down to her knees with black lace around the collar and cuffs, for her glad rags.

It had been years since the last time she tried to squeeze into the dress. ...