Blah! That stinks," said Jerry. "But I liked it when Miss Kitteridge
read us 'Casey at the Bat.' That's _good_ poetry."

"Not as good as poetry by Sara Teasdale."

"It is, too."

"It is not."

"There's no law that says that everybody has to like the same kind of
poetry," said Mrs. Martin from the doorway. "You twins don't have to
show dispositions to match the weather. Just because it's unpleasant
you don't need to be. I want you to run to the store, Jerry, and get
two pounds or a little over of haddock. I had intended to have cold
roast beef for dinner but it's such a chilly day I think a good New
England fish chowder will just hit the spot."

"But I went to the store this morning," protested Jerry.

"And you took time enough getting home with them to have grown the
vegetables and slaughtered the meat."

Jerry looked at the floor. "I'll go," he said in a dull voice as if
the burden of life was heavy.

With leaden feet Jerry went out to the garage for his bike. He had a
five-dollar bill in his mother's coin purse and he was worrying about
how he was going to get it changed. Every time his mother had asked
him to go to the store all week Jerry had worried about getting the
right change. This morning had been the worst. He had had to take his
cart again and that had slowed him up. Then when he had walked in the
rain all the long way to the shopping centre, George, the barber, had
not been a bit obliging.

George had been busy when Jerry had come in the barbershop. Nor did he
look up when Jerry spoke to him, giving him a pleasant "Good morning."
Of course Jerry had waited until George was not busy before asking him
for change for a ten. Jerry needed only forty cents to take back to
his mother this time. George had been very reluctant to change Jerry's
bill.

"You're getting to be a nuisance, running in to get bills changed,"
George had complained. But he had given Jerry nine dollars in bills
and a dollar in change for his ten.

Jerry dreaded to have to ask George for change twice the same day. He
had never had to do that before. But where else could he get change?
All the way to the store he worried.

Jerry was the only customer in Bartlett's store. And Mr. Bartlett did
have some nice haddock. Jerry had hoped he would be out of fish but no
such luck.

"Nasty day," said Mr. Bartlett, as he weighed the fish.

Jerry agreed. It seemed to him to be a particularly nasty day. He put
the grocery slip in his pock