"Yes, I know you're right." Then Jon's face lighted with relief. "But it's sure swell to have him awake so we can talk to him and he can take charge of things again. You did a grand job, Owl, bringing him through."
"That's another thing, you big bum. You go handing out praise like that again, and I'll bust you one."
"Oh, yeh, and who was the parrotfish talking up so big the few little things I did?"
Jak came over and threw his arm across the shoulders of his taller but younger brother. "Both of us were so carried away by our enthusiasm we forgot to belittle each other," he said sagely. "Maybe we do sort of like each other, after all."
Jon pushed him away with rough tenderness, but his eyes were suspiciously moist. His words, though, were an attempted snort, as he picked up his knife and fork.
"What do you want—the next waltz?"
11
When the boys came into the dinette the next morning, their mother was humming happily as she prepared breakfast, and greeted them with a cheery smile.
"Pop awake yet?" Jon asked as he saw her mood.