Their names were Millie and Tillie and they wore Florodora hats and did a sister act that contained more bad grammar than an East Side pinochle game.
Millie was fully aware that she could back Duse off the map, and Tillie was ready to bet a week's salary that she could make Bernhardt feel like she was out in the storm we had day before yesterday.
Slim called them the Roast-Beef Sisters, Rare and Well-done.
In a minute the castors on Buck's neck began to turn.
Slim put us wise with a wink so we lit the fire and began to cook it up.
Buck's heart was warming for the birds in the gilded cage.
"The real Kibo!" said Slim; "it's a plain case of Appomattox; the war is over and they are yours, Buck!"
Buck turned a few more volts into his twinkling lamps.
"Lower your mainsail, Buck, and drop alongside; you've made the landing," suggested Nick.
Buck began to feel his necktie and play patty-cake with the little bald spot on the top of his head.