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“You said her name was Mary,” charged Rodney.

“It is, but she’s called May. I’m called Matty. What do they call you?”

“Rod, usually.”

“I don’t care for that,” said the right-hand twin judicially. “I think we’ll call him Rodney, Matty.”

The left-hand twin nodded agreement. “Are you an Academy boy?” she asked.

“I’m going to be before long. I’m on my way there now. Say, where’s Mrs. Westcott’s house?”

“Oh, are you going to be a Vest?” exclaimed Matty.

“A what?”

“Of course he doesn’t understand,” said May. “He wouldn’t, you know.”

“I suppose not,” replied Matty. “You see,” turning to Rodney again, “the boys at Mrs. Westcott’s are called Vests. It—it’s a pun.”

“Oh, is it?” he asked. “I don’t see any pun there.”

“You don’t? Why, Westcott—waistcoat—vest! Now do you see?”

Rodney shook his head puzzledly.

“Perhaps,” said May, “you’d better let me explain.”

Matty nodded. “Yes, you always explain things more clearly than I do.”

“Well, Rodney, you know a vest is called a waistcoat, and——”

“Oh, I savvy! I’d forgotten. We call them vests where I come from. So I’m a Vest, am I? Hope I’m not a fancy one! Well, I guess I’d better pull my freight.”

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