"No, course you hain't. You got so many beaus to choose from. 'Sides," he added thoughtfully, "gettin' married sure needs special savvee. What I mean," he explained, seeing the amused wonder in the girl's now wide eyes, "you kind o' need eddicatin' to git married. Y'see, when you get fixed that way you sort of, in a manner of speakin', got to unlearn things you never learnt, an' learn them things what can't never be taught. What I mean is, marriage is a sort of eddication of itself, wot don't learn you nuthin' till you git--unmarried. Savee?" The girl shook her head in bewilderment. "That's sure too bright fer me." "That's 'cos you ain't been married. Y'see, I have." "Can't you put it easier--seein' I ain't been married?" "Sure I can." Sandy took up a position, on the edge of the table with such a judicial air that the girl started to giggle. "See here," he began largely. "Now what d'you know 'bout kids--raisin' 'em, I mean?" The girl's eyes twinkled on the verge of laughing outright. "Zip's kids?" she inquired shrewdly. Sandy started and frowned. "What d'you mean--Zip's kids?" "Oh, just nothing," said Birdie airily. "Seein' kids was in your mind, I naturally tho't o' Zip's." Sandy nodded. But he was only half convinced. How on earth, he wondered, did she know he was thinking of Zip's kids? He felt that it would be best to nip that idea in the bud. It was undignified that he should appear to be interested in Zip's twins. "I ain't interested in no special kids," he said, with some dignity. "I was just theorizin'--like. Now, if you got married, wot you know of raisin' kids? Guess you're that ignorant of the subject maybe you'd feed 'em hay?" Birdie laughed dutifully, but her retort was rather disconcerting. "You bin married--how'd you feed 'em? I'm learning." "How'd I feed 'em?" Sandy eyed his tormentor severely. "That ain't the question. How'd you feed 'em?" The girl thought for a moment, and then looked up brightly. "If they was Zip's kids--" "I said they ain't." "Well, if they were, I'd say--" "See here, cut Zip's kids out. They ain't in this shootin' match," cried Sandy testily. But Birdie persisted slyly. "Y'see, I must get some kids in my eye if I'm to answer you right," she said. "I can see things better that way. Now, if they were Zip's kids--" "Which they ain't," asseverated the man doggedly. "Which they ain't," nodded Birdie, "I'd feed 'em cereals an' pap--" Sandy's face suddenly cleared. His whole being seemed to expand. "Say, you're a bright gal," he declared. "Cereals an' pap. That's dead right. Say, you know more than--You'd give 'em milk to drink--now?" he suggested. "Oh no, nothing like that. Water." The man looked disappointed. "Water?" he said. "You sure of that? But I guess you'd give 'em banannys?" Again the girl shook her head. "Fruit gives 'em colic." "Ah, yes, that's so. They'd need physic then, wouldn't they?"