They screamed now, the moment that
the entertainment palled and they could not keep their eyes open
without effort; and never had they been more successful in holding
their breath and growing black in the face; indeed, Pacific, in the
midst of her performance, said to Atlantic, 'Yours is purple, how is
mine?'
A crowd did gather, inevitably, for the twins' lungs were capable of
a body of tone more piercing than that of a Chinese orchestra, and
the wonder is that poor Lisa did not hear them as she sat shivering
on the curbstone, miles away; for it was her name with which they
conjured.
The populace amused itself for a short space of time, watching the
fine but misdirected zeal of the performance, and supposing that the
parents of the chanting cherubs were within easy reach. It became
unpleasant after a while, however, and a policeman, inquiring into
the matter, marched the two dirty, weary little protestants off to a
station near by,--a march nearly as difficult and bloody as Sherman's
memorable 'march to the sea'; for the children associated nothing so
pleasant as supper and bed with a blue-coated, brass-buttoned person,
and resisted his well-meant advances with might and main, and tooth
and nail.
The policeman was at last obliged to confine himself to Atlantic, and
called a brother-in-arms to take charge of Pacific.
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