Your arrival was the signal for a shrill chorus of jeering cries; why, nobody may know; yet they caused you to flush with an unreasonable sense of shame.
“Hello, Jocko!” greeted Snoopie, affably (Jocko, and not, as stated the family Bible, John, being your actual name).
“Hello!” you responded feebly.
“Hello, Hen!” continued Snoop, determined to be impartial.
“Hello!” said Hen, also feebly.
“Ain’t you goin’ in?” queried Snoop. “G’wan in! What you ’fraid of?”
“G’wan in yourself!” you retorted.
“Well, I would if I was dressed up, you bet!” asserted Snoopie—oblivious of the fact that he was not expected.
“Huh!” scoffed Hen. “You ain’t invited! Ya-a-ah!”
“I know it; but I could have been if I’d wanted to!” declared Snoopie, insinuating his superiority. “I wouldn’t go to their old party!”