Rev. J. J. Indeed. How old are you, little girl?
Betty. I’m eight, ’n so’s Bobby. We’re twins, but I’m the smartest and the prettiest. Daddy says so. Mamma’s great for bargains, when she’s shopping, ’n when she bought me, Bobby was throwed in. She didn’t need a boy, at all, but ’twas a bargain, you know. She bought a five dollar waist yesterday for four dollars and ninety-five cents. Can you play the piano?
Rev. J. J. No, can you?
Betty. I can play the scale, and “Tell Aunt Rhody,” and when I’m as big as you, I shall play all the notes. You can’t do much, can you? Is that why you’re a minister?
Bobby. No, it’s ’cause it’s an easy way to earn your living. Daddy said so. Just stand up in a pulpit and scold the people when they dassn’t talk back, and have some men pass round plates to get money for you. They don’t dare not to ’cause folks is looking. Once Daddy put in a five dollar gold piece by mistake, and he sweared about it when he got home.
Betty. Yes, and last Sunday I put in my chewing gum by mistake and he spanked me ’cause I sweared about it when I got home. He said “Darn!” was naughty for a girl to say. Why is it?
Rev. J. J. Because—
Betty. Oh, I didn’t ’spect you to tell me. I don’t like to be preached at. Have you got any s’criptions with you?
Rev. J. J. Prescriptions? I’m not a druggist, nor a physician.
Bobby. Sub ones, she means. Mamma don’t like ’em. She hates begging ministers. She always signs, you know, ’cause she must, but she can’t afford to give away a whole dollar, or even half a one, ’cause her clothes are awful ’spensive, and the dressmaker bothers her awfully with bills. Oh, wouldn’t you like a cigar? (Takes a cigar case from a stand and passes it.)