Palm Beach residence. Robert D. Huntington, residence on Travellers Way, master bedroom, to bed, Samuel H. Gottscho, photographer

I’m not sure what drew me to this bedroom. Yes, I was a little curious about the colors of the parrots, as well as the bed’s covers. And how would the bed be to lie down upon? Would I hear the squeak of springs, the susurration of the sea, were some sturdy fellow of the era making love to me? I didn’t really expect that, but there he was, his cock upright and of good size. I asked him what he was doing there, and he said it was his place, and what was I doing here? “You’re not any maid I know,” he added. “But you weren’t in the picture,” I blurted. “What picture?” he replied. “I just wanted to see the color of the parrots,” I said. “What parrots?” he said. I pointed. “Those? Green and yellow for goodness sakes.” “So you can see colors?” I asked. His mouth opened at that. But then he recovered and asked if there was anything else I wanted to know. “Is the bed comfy?” He smiled, said sure as shootin’ and we became, for an hour or two, friends.