the parrot
to say her name.

"You quit that," ordered Jerry.

"I'd like to know why."

Jerry did not come right out and say that he wanted Pedro to say _his_
name first.

"Seems pretty conceited for you to think your name is the most
important word in the English language," he said. "Pretty conceited.
Naturally Pedro should learn the most important words first."

"What _is_ the most important word in the English language?" asked
Cathy.

"That depends."

"Depends on what?"

"If you could answer as many questions as you can ask, you'd be more
than half bright."

"Jerry Martin, are you calling me a moron? You know I get better
grades in school than you do."

"Who called you a moron?"

"You did."

"I did not. I didn't say how much more than half bright you'd be if
you could answer as many questions as you ask."

"You're--you're impossible."

Jerry turned the television on. As a singing commercial came on, the
parrot laughed a raucous laugh.

"Say, he may not know how to speak English but that parrot's got
sense," said Jerry admiringly.

A door above opened. "Jerry," called his mother from upstairs, "you
come right up here and get that snake off the hall table."

"It's only a little green snake I found when I was cutting the grass,"
grumbled Jerry. "I was going to catch flies for it. It's a perfectly
harmless snake."

"Snakes--ugh!" said Cathy.

"Say, what's got into you? I've seen you let a little green garter
snake wind around your wrist like a bracelet."

"I did, didn't I?" Cathy was suddenly on Jerry's level again. Then she
looked up at her reflection in a mirror over the television set and
smoothed her hair at the sides. "I used to do a lot of silly things
when I was young," she said.

She seemed to be insinuating that she was more grownup than Jerry,
even though they were twins. Jerry was furious with her. He was angry
because they were no longer the companions they used to be, though he
did not realize it. He missed the old Cathy, who reappeared only now
and then. They were so seldom really together nowadays and it had not
been long ago that they had been two against anything or anybody which
threatened one of them.

"I wouldn't be a girl for a million dollars," he said. "Little pats of
powder, Little daubs of paint, Make a little girly Look like what she
ain't," he quoted.

"Why Jerry Martin, I wouldn't think of using rouge. Mummy wouldn't let
me if I wanted to."

"Cathy," called