"Just a little," said Flossie. "The silver cup doesn't hold much."
"No, I guess it's 'cause there's so much silver in it," replied her brother. "It's worth a lot of money, mamma said."
"Yes, and it's all ours. When I grow up I'm going to have my half made into a bracelet."
"You are?" said Freddie slowly. "If you do there won't be enough left for me to drink out of."
"Well, you can have your share of it made into a watch, and drink out of a glass."
"That's so," agreed Freddie, his face brightening. He gave his sister more water, and then took some himself. As he drank his eyes were constantly looking at the very fat lady who filled so much of her seat. She turned from the window and looked at the two children, smiling broadly. Freddie was somewhat confused, and looked down quickly. Just then the train gave another lurch and Freddie suddenly spilled some of the water on his coat.
"Oh, look what you did!" cried Flossie "And that's your best coat!"
"I—I couldn't help it," stammered Freddie.
"Never mind, little boy," said the fat lady. "It's only clean water. Come here and I'll wipe it off with my handkerchief. I'd come to you, only I'm so stout it's hard enough for me to walk anyhow, and when the train is moving I simply can't do it."
Freddie and Flossie went to her seat, and with a handkerchief, that Flossie said afterward was almost as big as a table cloth, the fat lady wiped the water off Freddie's coat.