"You speak English!" The man standing there was astounded.
"I speak what I speak," she said.
"It's wonderful English!" The man was in uniform. There were three men with him, in a great hurry, all smiling, all dirty.
"What do you want?" demanded Mrs. Ttt.
"You are a Martian!" The man smiled. "The word is not familiar to you, certainly. It's an Earth expression." He nodded at his
then. "We are from Earth. I'm Captain Williams. We've landed on Mars within the hour. Here we are, the Second Expedition!
There was a First Expedition, but we don't know what happened to it. But here we are, anyway. And you are the first Martian
we've met!"
"Martian?" Her eyebrows went up.
"What I mean to say is, you live on the fourth planet from the sun. Correct?"
"Elementary," she snapped, eyeing them.
"And we" - he pressed his chubby pink hand to his chest - "we are from Earth. Right, men?"
"Right, sir!" A chorus.
"This is the planet Tyrr," she said, "if you want to use the proper name."
"Tyrr, Tyrr." The captain laughed exhaustedly. "What a fine name! But, my good woman, how is it you speak such perfect
English?"
"I'm not speaking, I'm thinking," she said. "Telepathy! Good day!" And she slammed the door
(Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury)
