"You are a smart bird," said Jerry and tried in vain to teach the parrot to say "Jerry." Pedro said "Caramba" again and a few Spanish words Jerry did not understand, but that was all.
He certainly was a handsome bird. Jerry looked at him with affection. "Give you time and you'll learn to speak English," said Jerry. And, "Gosh, I wish you really belonged to me." Then, having been called twice, Jerry went up to dinner.
Jerry went to the neighborhood movie that night with his mother and Cathy, so he was later getting to bed than usual. He was dropping off to sleep when he heard what he thought was a car backfiring outside. Then, at the very edge of sleep again, Jerry smelled smoke. He rushed to the window. By moonlight he could see the Bullfinch house almost as plain as day. There was smoke coming out of the chimney. There was also smoke rising from the roof.
"Fire!" bawled Jerry. "Fire!" he shouted all the way down the stairs.
"The Bullfinch house is on fire!" he yelled at the door of the living room where his father and mother were sitting.
"What?" cried his father.
"Is this one of your ideas of a joke?" asked his mother.
Jerry did not stop. The front door slammed behind him. "Fire!" he kept shouting all the way to the Bullfinch house, as if a phonograph needle had been stuck at that word in a record.