“How’d I feed ’em?” Sandy eyed his tormentor severely. “That ain’t the question. How’d you feed ’em?”
The girl thought for a moment, and then looked up brightly.
“If they was Zip’s kids––”
“I said they ain’t.”
“Well, if they were, I’d say––”
“See here, cut Zip’s kids out. They ain’t in this shootin’ match,” cried Sandy testily.
But Birdie persisted slyly.
“Y’see, I must get some kids in my eye if I’m to answer you right,” she said. “I can see things better that way. Now, if they were Zip’s kids––”
“Which they ain’t,” asseverated the man doggedly.
“Which they ain’t,” nodded Birdie, “I’d feed ’em cereals an’ pap––”