“I see a vision!” remarked Ellen Webster solemnly. “Two years hence, you and Nita and I will re-visit the old school and tread the familiar paths, once desecrated by the pelting feet of graceless twinses. And lo! we will see droves of demure juniors, damsels without guile——”
“There ain’t none such!” said Nita.
“—and older damsels of staid, not to say cowed, aspect; and at the head, two goddess-like figures—
‘So like they were, men never
Saw twins so like before’—
bearing badges of office, and walking statelily Even the Fifth, that band without reverence, will tremble at their gaze. Slowly, majestically——”
The orator’s voice died away in a pained gurgle. One twin seized her suddenly from the rear, and tilted her backwards, while the other pressed to her face a large, wet sponge. It was almost dry when the ensuing struggle was over, and most of the water it had contained was distributed evenly over Ellen and the twins.
“Ugh!” said Ellen, abandoning all oratory. “You little fiends!” She wriggled in her wet pyjamas.
“It’s a nice warm night for a bath!” said Nita, weak from laughing.
“Yes, but this only feels clammy. You two, prefects! You’ll never be anything but disgraces!”