"What's towhim?" asked the Unwiseman.
"To you is what he means. He says he's satisfied to listen to you when you talk."
"Thassit," Whistlebinkie hurried to say, meaning, I suppose, "that's it."
"Ah!" said the Unwiseman, with a pleased smile. "That's it, eh? Well, permit me to say that I think you are a very wonderfully wise rubber doll, Mr. Whistlebinkie. I may go so far as to say that in this view of the case I think you are the wisest rubber doll I ever met. You like my conversation, do you?"
"Deedido," whistled Whistlebinkie. "I think it's fine!"
"I owe you an apology, Whistlebinkie," said the Unwiseman, gazing at the doll in an affectionate way. "I thought you opened front doors for pay, instead of which I find that you are one of the wisest, most interesting rubber celebrities of the day. I apologize for even thinking that you would accept pay for opening a front door, and I will esteem it a great favor if you will let me be your friend. Nay, more. I shall make it my first task to get up a conversation especially for you. Eh? Isn't that fine, Whistlebinkie? I, Me, the Unwiseman, promise to devote fifteen or twenty minutes of his time to getting up talk for you, talk with thinking in it, talk that amounts to something, talk that ninety-nine talkers out of a hundred conversationalists couldn't say if they tried; and all for you. Isn't that honor?"
"Welliguess!" whistled Whistlebinkie.
"Very well, then. Listen," said the Unwiseman. "Where were we at, Miss Mollie?"
"I believe," said Mollie, squeezing a half a lemon, "I believe you were saying something about putting fish through the faucet."