"Doggone 'at Loweh 7. Did you wateh dat boy?"
The Wildcat looked at the crushed cup in his hand. "Ah'll say so. Missed 'at boy's neck, but de ol' ice-wateh sho' baptized him."
"See whut he wants again."
"You betteh see, Baptis'. I's just learnin'."
"Dearie, be quiet before I wring your neck!" A strident feminine voice addressed the author of the laughter. "Shut up! There, there, dearie.... Oh, you feen, leggo! My gawd, he bit me!"
"Purty purty burd. Purty purty burd."
"You feen!"
"Quawk!"
Down the length of the car, from between the berth curtains there began to appear an assortment of human heads.
Above the scene there sounded the flutter of beating wings.