“Mrs. Pike ain’t goin’ to bite you,” said Leota. “Mrs. Pike is a lovely girl, you’d be crazy about her, Mrs. Fletcher. But she can’t sit still a minute. We went to the travellin’ freak show yestiddy after work. I got through early—nine o’clock. In the vacant store next door. What, you ain’t been?”

“No, I despise freaks,” declared Mrs. Fletcher.

“Aw. Well, honey, talkin’ about bein’ pregnant an’ all, you ought to see those twins in a bottle, you really owe it to yourself.”

“What twins?” asked Mrs. Fletcher out of the side of her mouth.

“Well, honey, they got these two twins in a bottle, see? Born joined plumb together—dead a course.” Leota dropped her voice into a soft lyrical hum. “They was about this long—pardon—must of been full time, all right, wouldn’t you say?—an’ they had these two heads an’ two faces an’ four arms an’ four legs, all kind of joined here. See, this face looked this-a-way, and the other face looked that-a-way, over their shoulder, see. Kinda pathetic.”

“Glah!” said Mrs. Fletcher disapprovingly.

“Well, ugly? Honey, I mean to tell you—their parents was first cousins and all like that. Billy Boy, git me a fresh towel from off Teeny’s stack—this ’n’s wringin’ wet—an’ quit ticklin’ my ankles with that curler. I declare! He don’t miss nothin’.”

“Me and Mr. Fletcher aren’t one speck of kin, or he could never of had me,” said Mrs. Fletcher placidly.

“Of course not!” protested Leota. “Neither is me an’ Fred, not that we know of. Well, honey, what Mrs. Pike liked was the pygmies. They’ve got these pygmies down there, too, an’ Mrs. Pike was just wild about ’em. You know, the teeniest men in the universe? Well, honey, they can just rest back on their little bohunkus an’ roll around an’ you can’t hardly tell if they’re sittin’ or standin’. That’ll give you some idea. They’re about forty-two years old. Just suppose it was your husband!”

“Well, Mr. Fletcher is five foot nine and one half,” said Mrs. Fletcher quickly.

“Fred’s five foot ten,” said Leota, “but I tell him he’s still a shrimp, account of I’m so tall.” She made a deep wave over Mrs. Fletcher’s other temple with the comb. “Well, these pygmies are a kind of a dark brown, Mrs. Fletcher. Not bad-lookin’ for what they are, you know.”

“I wouldn’t care for them,” said Mrs. Fletcher. “What does that Mrs. Pike see in them?”

“Aw, I don’t know,” said Leota. “She’s just cute, that’s all. But they got this man, this petrified man, that ever’thing ever since he was nine years old, when it goes through his digestion, see, somehow Mrs. Pike says it goes to his joints and has been turning to stone.”

“How awful!” said Mrs. Fletcher.