he system they're being brought up on, and how many
ounces of Pasteurized cow extract they sop up a day, and at what
temperature they get it, and how often they take their naps and so
on---- Well, sometimes I'm thankful the Rands didn't have triplets. When
I've worked up enthusiasm for twins about four times, and remarked how
cunnin' of them to look so much alike, and confessed that I couldn't
tell which was Cecillia and which Cecil, Jr., I feel that I've sort of
exhausted the subject.

So whenever Vee suggests that we really ought to go over and see the
Rands again I can generally think up an alibi. Honest, I aint jealous
of their twins. I'm glad they've got 'em. Considerin' Cecil, Sr., and
all I'll say it was real noble of 'em. But until I can think up
something new to shoot about twins I'm strong for keepin' away.

Then there are Mr. and Mrs. Jerry Kipp, but they're ouija board addicts
and count it a dull evening when they can't gather a few serious
thinkers around the dinin' room table under a dim light and spell out a
message from Little Bright Wings, who checked out from croup at the age
of six and still wants her Uncle Jerry to know that she thinks of him
out there in the great beyond. I wouldn't mind hearin' from the spirit
land now and then if the folks there had anything worth sayin', but when
they confine their chat to fam'ly gossip it seems to me like a waste of
time. Besides, I always come home from the Kipps feelin' creepy down the
back.

So you could hardly blame Vee for welcomin' some new arrivals in the
neighborhood, or for bein' so chummy right from the start. She asks the
Rawsons over for dinner, tips Mrs. Rawson off where she can get a
wash-lady who'll come in by the day and otherwise extends the glad hand.

Seems to be a nice enough party, young Mrs. Rawson. Kind of easy to look
at and with an eye twinkle that suggests a disposition to cut up
occasionally. Stanley is a good runnin' mate, so far as looks go. He
could almost pose for a collar ad, with that straight nose and clean cut
chin of his. But he's a bit stiff and stand-offish, at first.

"Oh, he'll get over that," says Vee. "You see, he comes from some little
place down in Georgia where the social set is limited to three families
and he isn't quite sure whether we know who our grandfathers were."

"It'll be all off then if he asks about mine," says I.

But he don't. He wants to know what I think of the recent slump in July
cotton delive