Phil glanced up, and then became more than ever absorbed in his work. There was a peculiar expression on the twins’ faces. Phil instantly recognized it. “The errand cast of features,” he grimly called it.
“Phil, dear,” began Rosabel.
“Phil, dear,” echoed Kate.
Phil handled a screw-driver dextrously.
“Phil, dear, will you please run over to the station and see if my new skates have come by the twelve-o’clock train? Go when the cars are due, won’t you?”
“And Phil, dear,” chimed in Kate, “can’t you manage to go into the city to-day and call for a roll of music which is to be left for me at Hale and McPherson’s?”
Now could anything be more trying to the temper of the average youth than requests like these, made under the existing circumstances? Perhaps some of us may find it in our hearts to forgive Phil for answering with a certain touch of asperity:
“Don’t ‘Phil dear’ me! I’m not going to the station, and I’m not going to the city, and—”
Bang, bang, bang! the hammer expressed the rest of his sentiments.
Rosabel arched her eyebrows, and mildly withdrew.