“It’s all right, Phemey,” says she, motionin’ to the short one. “Sit down.”
“Sure!” says I. “Don’t mind the furniture. Take a couple of chairs.”
“Not for me!” says the tall one. “I’ll stand in one spot and drip, and then you can mop up afterwards. But Phemey, she’s plumb tuckered.”
“It’s sweet of you to run in,” says I. “Been wadin’ in the park lake, or enjoyin’ the shower?”
“Enjoying the shower is good,” says she; “but I hadn’t thought of describing it that way. I reckon, though, you’d like to hear who we are.”
“Oh, any time when you get to that,” says I.
“That’s a joke, is it?” says she. “If it is, Ha, ha! Excuse me if I don’t laugh real hearty. I can do better when I don’t feel so much like a sponge. Maizie May Blickens is my name, and this is Euphemia Blickens.”
“Ah!” says I. “Sisters?”
“Do we look it?” says Maizie. “No! First cousins on the whiskered side. Ever hear that name Blickens before?”
“Why—er—why——” says I, scratchin’ my head.