“Then you picked up old John Dempsey,” went on Tavia, accusingly. “You have given that old boy a new lease of life, Doro.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said her friend. “Anybody would have done the same. And it was really Aunt Winnie who helped him.”
“She’d never have heard of John Dempsey if it hadn’t been for you,” said Tavia. “Then there is Flores. It never entered my head to try to teach her English. Why? Because all I can do—all I think of—is to have a good time. I never thought of helping Lance Petterby, even,” and she wickedly grinned again. “I’ve just been having fun with him.”
“And thank goodness! that’s got to stop now,” said Dorothy, with confidence.
“You are super-human, Doro,” pursued Tavia, shaking her head. “While I—well, I’m just an animal, I guess—a ‘featherless biped.’ Of course, I have tastes similar to yours and other humans; but I don’t use my intellect as a real human being ought—not even as a Boston bean should,” added Tavia, making one of her very worst puns.
“You display many traits common to the human family,” said Dorothy, her eyes twinkling.
“Don’t I?” responded Tavia, briskly. “That reminds me of the little girl to whom the teacher was explaining about the friendship certain animals have for man.
“‘Now, do animals ever possess sentiment or affection?’ she finally asked the kid.
“‘Yes, Ma’am,’ says the embryo.
“‘Tell me,’ says the teacher, ‘what animal has the greatest affection for man?’