"Jerry! Cathy!" Mrs. Martin came in from the kitchen with a platter of scrambled eggs and bacon. "I'm glad your father left before he had to hear such bickering. He wouldn't stand for it, and neither will I. Either be civil to each other or don't speak."
"Suits me," said Jerry. "I'll be tickled to death if Cathy stops ya-ka-ta-yaking."
"He's just awful." Cathy's blue eyes appealed to her mother for sympathy.
"Want me to wipe away your tears?" jibed her twin brother.
"Eat your bacon and eggs. I trust and hope you'll both feel better when you've had your breakfast," said their mother. "I don't know what's gotten into you two lately. Always at each other and you used to be as close to each other as the two sides of a pair of shears."
"Bet I always had the sharpest edge," mumbled Jerry.
"That's enough from you, young man."
When his mother spoke in that tone of voice, Jerry thought it best to keep still and tend to what he was doing. He took a large mouthful of scrambled eggs. They were good scrambled eggs. His mother sure knew how to fix them.
Mrs. Martin looked at Andy's vacant chair. "Oh, dear, that child's not down yet. He dawdles so getting dressed."
"He's coming," said Jerry, as they heard a thump that was Andy jumping down the last two steps of the front stairs.