“I’ll go,” Mr. Tucker volunteered magnanimously.
“Let him; he’s dying to!” exclaimed the twins in one breath.
“Well, don’t tweedle!” commanded their father. He always called it tweedling when his twins spoke the same thing at the same time.
A word was hard to hit on because as his daughters said Mr. Tucker had what men call feminine intuition.
“You can’t keep a thing from him,” Dum said.
“And sometimes he sees something before it happens,” declared Dee.
“Oh, spooks!” laughed Page.
“‘Spooks’ would be a good word,” suggested someone, but Mrs. Carter had a word which was finally determined on. Zebedee was whistled for and came quickly to the front.
“Mr. Smith, tell me, while flying through the air would you like to have one of these teakettles with you? I mean would it be the kind of thing you could carry with you? Would it be of any value on the journey?”
“We—el, I can’t say that a teakettle would be of any great practical value on a flight, but it would certainly be great to have one. I believe I’d rather have one than anything I can think of. In fact, I mean to take one with me some day.”