both,

"Your boy,

"WILLIAM FOLSOM."

The twins, having completed what had been for them a daring undertaking,
now looked about for release from an atmosphere grown suddenly boresome.
The elder by four seconds went to the door and, affecting intense
maturity, spat out from it. The younger, dipping his head in the
water-butt near the leader, took a small comb from his pocket and, using
the disturbed water-butt as a mirror, began parting into ideal
smoothness his upward-turning locks.

The first twin, seeing his brother's back turned, dug into his pockets
and, having brought out with an air of modest pride a fish-line, a
morsel of gingerbread, a bit of resin, human tooth, part of a human
bone, a kitten's skull, a chewed piece of gum, and an incredibly
besmirched Sunday-school card, extracted from these omens a large rusty
screw, which he proffered to his grandmother, muttering, "For your
Everything Jar." With a sudden shame at having been seen sympathizing
with the interests of a woman, this twin then seized his hat and fled
whooping down the road to school, followed by his brother, who, holding
between his vision and the sun a small bit of crimson glass, exulted in
the contemplation of a deep red universe.

Mrs. Pawket, bundling the dinner-dishes into a pan and pouring hot water
from the teakettle over them, sighed. Mr. Pawket, having again retired
to the Turkey-red-covered chair, watched his wife somewhat dazedly; he
was still thinking of the contents of "Willum's" letter.

"Comin' home by a cir-cus-to-us route," he soliloquized ... "and
devil-elopements. I suppose he knows what he's doin', but it all sounds
kindy resky to me. Did you get it that A. Malfi was his wife's maiden
name? Don't it sound sorter like a actress to you? One of them sassy,
tricky furriners, I'll bet. 'N' a vanilla--what call has Willum got to
build a vanilla, his age? A mansion, now--I could onderstand how the boy
would hanker for a mansion--he always had big feelin's, Willum had--but
a vanilla! Say, you ever seen one of them there contraptions?"

Mrs. Pawket, washing the dishes, hung up the soap-shaker and cast her
eyes upward as in an effort of memory. She reached for a dish-towel,
replying, somewhat evasively, "Where my mother come from they had 'em
a-plenty; there was one on every street."

Her husband regarded her with deep respect. "Ye don't say?"

Mrs. Pawket squeezed out the dishmop with a thoughtful air; she cast a
h