“It is very polite of you,” I said, “to disclaim the honor and each one give it to the other, but, seriously, is there no head?” “Why, no,” answered Thorwald; “we never think of such a thing, and yet you must admit that things run smoothly without it.” “I will then try again, if you please,” I said. “Which of you is the bread-winner?” To which Zenith replied: “That question is hardly appropriate, for you know we do not work for our daily bread. The bread would come anyway, whether we worked or not; but then, as a matter of fact, every one does work at some useful occupation, because we have found out by long experience that it is much better for us than idleness. If you reply that you have not seen us work while you have been here, I will say that our time is considered to be well employed if we can be learning anything or imparting knowledge to others, as this is supposed to add indirectly to the general well-being of society. But perhaps what you want to know is which of us does the more to benefit the world, and even this would be a difficult question to answer. Thorwald creates, we will say, an elaborate design for a noble cathedral, and as he watches its fair proportions rise under the hands of skilled men, who take an equal pride and satisfaction in their work, his heart is made glad by the thought that for many years after he has left the body the structure will be used as a place for teaching the way of life, with its graceful spires pointing men to heaven. While I, perhaps--” “Let me tell that part,” interrupted Thorwald. “While Zenith, with just as strong a feeling of responsibility for a share of the world’s work, composes a beautiful song and writes the music for it, and then sings it before a vast audience, while the phonograph catches it and holds it for future generations. Is she not doing as much as I am toward earning the bread for the family?” “It certainly cannot be denied,” I answered. “But what I want to find out is, to use a homely expression common with us, which of you two holds the reins in this home?” “Well,” replied Thorwald, laughing, “that is a figure of speech which is not employed here, for we use no reins of any kind; but I know what you mean, and I will answer you by saying that we each hold one rein, and in that way drive as steadily as if we were one person.” “But when disputes arise, which one gives in?” “Disputes never arise, and if they did we would both ‘give in,’ whatever that expression means.” “If not your wills, do not your wishes or inclinations sometimes oppose each other?” “Why, no,” Thorwald answered quickly. “It is impossible, and for this reason: each one of us is so intent on trying to please the other that we are saved from all temptation to selfishness, which is the root and source of all differences.” While I was considering what next to ask, the doctor broke in with: