“No, I want you to answer the question.”
“A rattlesnake shedding its skin,” suggested Hippy.
“Wrong again. Give it up?”
“Yes, yes,” laughed Lieutenant Wingate.
“A match! At the slightest irritation it flares right up and sputters and bites your finger. Frightful temper!”
“Awful!” grinned Tom.
“I call it much more acceptable than Chunky’s jokes ordinarily are,” approved Emma. “Even if he did read it in last year’s almanac I think—” “Did you read it in last year’s almanac?” demanded Stacy.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then don’t jump at conclusions, Miss Dean. It is a sure indication of brainlessness. Of course, among ourselves it doesn’t matter, but when outsiders are present you should endeavor to hide your shortcomings. I’ll give you another one. What is yesterday?”
“Yesterday—yesterday?” repeated Emma perplexedly. “Why, I don’t know unless yesterday is yesterday.”