Penrod..................................................................................................................................................................1

Booth Tarkington .....................................................................................................................................1

Penrod sat morosely upon the back fence and gazed with envy at Duke, his wistful dog.

A bitter soul dominated the various curved and angular surfaces known by a careless world as the face of

Penrod Schofield. Except in solitude, that face was almost always cryptic and emotionless; for Penrod had

come into his twelfth year wearing an expression carefully trained to be inscrutable. Since the world was sure

to misunderstand everything, mere defensive instinct prompted him to give it as little as possible to lay hold

upon. Nothing is more impenetrable than the face of a boy who has learned this, and Penrod's was habitually

as fathomless as the depth of his hatred this morning for the literary activities of Mrs. Lora Rewbushan

almost universally respected fellow citizen, a lady of charitable and poetic inclinations, and one of his own

Mrs. Lora Rewbush had written something which she called "The Children's Pageant of the Table Round,"

and it was to be performed in public that very afternoon at the Women's Arts and Guild Hall for the benefit of

the Coloured Infants' Betterment Society. And if any flavour of sweetness remained in the nature of Penrod

Schofield after the dismal trials of the schoolweek just past, that problematic, infinitesimal remnant was

made pungent acid by the imminence of his destiny to form a prominent feature of the spectacle, and to

declaim the loathsome sentiments of a character named upon the programme the Child Sir Lancelot. After

each rehearsal he had plotted escape, and only ten days earlier there had been a glimmer of light: Mrs. Lora

Rewbush caught a very bad cold, and it was hoped it might develop into pneumonia; but she recovered so

quickly that not even a rehearsal of the Children's Pageant was postponed. Darkness closed in. Penrod had

rather vaguely debated plans for a selfmutilation such as would make his appearance as the Child Sir

Lancelot inexpedient on public grounds; it was a heroic and attractive thought, but the results of some

There was no escape; and at last his hour was hard upon him. Therefore he brooded on the fence and gazed

with envy at his wistful Duke. The dog's name was undescriptive of his person, which was obviously the

result of a singular series of mesalliances. He wore a grizzled moustache and indefinite whiskers; he was

small and shabby, and looked like an old postman. Penrod envied Duke because he was sure Duke would

never be compelled to be a Child Sir Lancelot. He thought a dog free and unshackled to go or come as the

wind listeth. Penrod forgot the life he led Duke. There was a long soliloquy upon the fence, a plaintive

monologue without words: the boy's thoughts were adjectives, but they were expressed by a running film of

pictures in his mind's eye, morbidly prophetic of the hideosities before him. Finally he spoke aloud, with such

"`I hight Sir Lancelot du Lake, the Child, Gentulhearted, meek, and mild. What though I'm BUT a littul

All of this except "oof" was a quotation from the Child Sir Lancelot, as conceived by Mrs. Lora Rewbush.

Choking upon it, Penrod slid down from the fence, and with slow and thoughtful steps entered a onestoried

wing of the stable, consisting of a single apartment, floored with cement and used as a storeroom for broken

bricabrac, old paintbuckets, decayed gardenhose, worn out carpets, dead furniture, and other

condemned odds and ends not yet considered hopeless enough to be given away. In one corner stood a large

box, a part of the building itself: it was eight feet high and open at the top, and it had been constructed as a

sawdust magazine from which was drawn material for the horse's bed in a stall on the other side of the

partition. The big box, so high and towerlike, so commodious, so suggestive, had ceased to fulfil its

legitimate function; though, providentially, it had been at least half full of sawdust when the horse died. Two

years had gone by since that passing; an interregnum in transportation during which Penrod's father was

"thinking" (he explained sometimes) of an automobile. Meanwhile, the gifted and generous sawdustbox had

There was a partially defaced sign upon the front wall of the box; the donjonkeep had known mercantile

This was a venture of the preceding vacation, and had netted, at one time, an accrued and owed profit of

$1.38. Prospects had been brightest on the very eve of cataclysm. The storeroom was locked and guarded, but

twentyseven rabbits and Belgian hares, old and young, had perished here on a single nightthrough no

human agency, but in a foray of cats, the besiegers treacherously tunnelling up through the sawdust from the

small aperture which opened into the stall beyond the partition. Commerce has its martyrs.

Penrod climbed upon a barrel, stood on tiptoe, grasped the rim of the box; then, using a knothole as a

stirrup, threw one leg over the top, drew himself up, and dropped within. Standing upon the packed sawdust,

Duke had not followed him into the storeroom, but remained near the open doorway in a concave and

pessimistic attitude. Penrod felt in a dark corner of the box and laid hands upon a simple apparatus consisting

of an old bushelbasket with a few yards of clothesline tied to each of its handles. He passed the ends of the

lines over a big spool, which revolved upon an axle of wire suspended from a beam overhead, and, with the

aid of this improvised pulley, lowered the empty basket until it came to rest in an upright position upon the

Duke, old and intelligently apprehensive, approached slowly, in a semicircular manner, deprecatingly, but

with courtesy. He pawed the basket delicately; then, as if that were all his master had expected of him, uttered

one bright bark, sat down, and looked up triumphantly. His hypocrisy was shallow: many a horrible quarter

Duke looked suddenly haggard. He pawed the basket feebly again and, upon another outburst from on high,

prostrated himself flat. Again threatened, he gave a superb impersonation of a worm.

Reckless with despair, Duke jumped into the basket, landing in a dishevelled posture, which he did not alter

until he had been drawn up and poured out upon the floor of sawdust with the box. There, shuddering, he lay

It was dark in the box, a condition that might have been remedied by sliding back a small wooden panel on

runners, which would have let in ample light from the alley; but Penrod Schofield had more interesting means

of illumination. He knelt, and from a former soapbox, in a corner, took a lantern, without a chimney, and a

large oilcan, the leak in the latter being so nearly imperceptible that its banishment from household use had

He shook the lantern near his ear: nothing splashed; there was no sound but a dry clinking. But there was

plenty of kerosene in the can; and he filled the lantern, striking a match to illumine the operation. Then he lit

the lantern and hung it upon a nail against the wall. The sawdust floor was slightly impregnated with oil, and

the open flame quivered in suggestive proximity to the side of the box; however, some rather deep charrings

of the plank against which the lantern hung offered evidence that the arrangement was by no means a new

Next, Penrod turned up the surface of the sawdust in another corner of the floor, and drew forth a cigarbox

in which were half a dozen cigarettes, made of hayseed and thick brown wrapping paper, a leadpencil, an

eraser, and a small notebook, the cover of which was labelled in his own handwriting:

The first page of this book was purely academic; but the study of English undefiled terminated with a slight

Immediately followed: "HARoLD RAMoREZ THE RoADAGENT OR WiLD LiFE AMoNG THE ROCKY

And the subsequent entries in the book appeared to have little concern with Room 6, Ward School Nomber

The author of "Harold Ramorez," etc., lit one of the hayseed cigarettes, seated himself comfortably, with his

back against the wall and his right shoulder just under the lantern, elevated his knees to support the

notebook, turned to a blank page, and wrote, slowly and earnestly: "CHAPITER THE SIXTH"

He took a knife from his pocket, and, broodingly, his eyes upon the inward embryos of vision, sharpened his

pencil. After that, he extended a foot and meditatively rubbed Duke's back with the side of his shoe. Creation,

with Penrod, did not leap, fullarmed, from the brain; but finally he began to produce. He wrote very slowly

at first, and then with increasing rapidity; faster and faster, gathering momentum and growing more and more

fevered as he sped, till at last the true fire came, without which no lamp of real literature may be made to

Mr. Wilson reched for his gun but our hero had him covred and soon said Well I guess you don't come any of

Well what makes you so sure about it sneered the other bitting his lip so savageley that the blood ran. You are

nothing but a common Roadagent any way and I do not propose to be bafled by such, Ramorez laughed at

Soon the two men were struggling together in the deathroes but soon Mr Wilson got him bound and gaged

his mouth and went away for awhile leavin our hero, it was dark and he writhd at his bonds writhing on the

floor wile the rats came out of their holes and bit him and vernim got all over him from the floor of that

helish spot but soon he managed to push the gag out of his mouth with the end of his toungeu and got all his

Soon Mr Wilson came back to tant him with his helpless condition flowed by his gang of detectives and they

said Oh look at Ramorez sneering at his plight and tanted him with his helpless condition because Ramorez

had put the bonds back sos he would look the same but could throw them off him when he wanted to Just

look at him now sneered they. To hear him talk you would thought he was hot stuff and they said Look at

Soon Harold got mad at this and jumped up with blasing eyes throwin off his bonds like they were air Ha Ha

sneered he I guess you better not talk so much next time. Soon there flowed another awful struggle and siezin

his ottomatick back from Mr Wilson he shot two of the detectives through the heart Bing Bing went the

ottomatick and two more went to meet their Maker only two detectives left now and so he stabbed one and

the scondrel went to meet his Maker for now our hero was fighting for his very life. It was dark in there now

for night had falen and a terrible view met the eye Blood was just all over everything and the rats were eatin

Soon our hero manged to get his back to the wall for he was fighting for his very life now and shot Mr

Mr Wilson stagerd back vile oaths soilin his lips for he was in pain Why you you sneered he I will

The remainin scondrel had an ax which he came near our heros head with but missed him and ramand stuck

in the wall Our heros amunition was exhaused what was he to do, the remanin scondrel would soon get his ax

lose so our hero sprung forward and bit him till his teeth met in the flech for now our hero was fighting for

his very life. At this the remanin scondrel also cursed and swore vile oaths. Oh sneered he

you Harold Ramorez what did you bite me for Yes sneered Mr Wilson also and he has shot me in the

did you want to injure us foryou Harold Ramorez you have not got any sence and you think you are so

Soon our hero could stand this no longer. If you could learn to act like gentlmen said he I would not do any

more to you now and your low vile exppresions have not got any effect on me only to injure your own self

when you go to meet your Maker Oh I guess you have had enogh for one day and I think you have learned a

lesson and will not soon atemp to beard Harold Ramorez again so with a tantig laugh he cooly lit a cigarrete

Soon Mr Wilson and the wonded detective manged to bind up their wonds and got up off the floor

it I will have that dasstads life now sneered they if we have to swing for it him

A mule train of heavily laden burros laden with gold from the mines was to be seen wondering among the

highest clifts and gorgs of the Rocky Mts and a tall man with a long silken mustash and a cartigde belt could

be heard cursin vile oaths because he well knew this was the lair of Harold Ramorez Why

Simultaneously, the noon whistles began to blow, far and near; and the romancer in the sawdustbox,

summoned prosaically from steep mountain passes above the clouds, paused with stubby pencil halfway from

lip to knee. His eyes were shining: there was a rapt sweetness in his gaze. As he wrote, his burden had grown

lighter; thoughts of Mrs. Lora Rewbush had almost left him; and in particular as he recounted (even by the

chaste dash) the annoyed expressions of Mr. Wilson, the wounded detective, and the silken moustached

muledriver, he had felt mysteriously relieved concerning the Child Sir Lancelot. Altogether he looked a

"Penrod! We're having lunch early just on your account, so you'll have plenty of time to be dressed for the

Mrs. Schofields voice sounded nearer, indicating a threatened approach. Penrod bestirred himself: he blew

"Do hurry," returned the voice, withdrawing; and the kitchen door could be heard to close.

Replacing his manuscript and pencil in the cigarbox, he carefully buried the box in the sawdust, put the

lantern and oilcan back in the soapbox, adjusted the elevator for the reception of Duke, and, in no

Duke stretched himself amiably, affecting not to hear; and when this pretence became so obvious that even a

dog could keep it up no longer, sat down in a corner, facing it, his back to his master, and his head

perpendicular, nose upward, supported by the convergence of the two walls. This, from a dog, is the last

word, the comble of the immutable. Penrod commanded, stormed, tried gentleness; persuaded with honeyed

words and pictured rewards. Duke's eyes looked backward; otherwise he moved not. Time elapsed. Penrod

stooped to flattery, finally to insincere caresses; then, losing patience spouted sudden threats.

Duke remained immovable, frozen fast to his great gesture of implacable despair.

"Are you up in that sawdustbox again?" As Mrs. Schofield had just heard her son's voice issue from the box,

and also, as she knew he was there anyhow, her question must have been put for oratorical purposes only.

"Because if you are," she continued promptly, "I'm going to ask your papa not to let you play there any"

Penrod's forehead, his eyes, the tops of his ears, and most of his hair, became visible to her at the top of the

"I got Duke here. I got to get him DOWN, haven't I? You don't suppose I want to leave a poor dog in here to

"I'll get him down all right," said Penrod. "I got him up here, and I guess I can get him down!"

"I will if you'll let me alone. If you'll go on back to the house I promise to be there inside of two minutes.

He put extreme urgency into this, and his mother turned toward the house. "If you're not there in two

After her departure, Penrod expended some finalities of eloquence upon Duke, then disgustedly gathered him

up in his arms, dumped him into the basket and, shouting sternly, "All in for the ground floorstep back

there, madamall ready, Jim!" lowered dog and basket to the floor of the storeroom. Duke sprang out in

tumultuous relief, and bestowed frantic affection upon his master as the latter slid down from the box.

Penrod dusted himself sketchily, experiencing a sense of satisfaction, dulled by the overhanging afternoon,

perhaps, but perceptible: he had the feeling of one who has been true to a cause. The operation of the elevator

was unsinful and, save for the shock to Duke's nervous system, it was harmless; but Penrod could not

possibly have brought himself to exhibit it in the presence of his mother or any other grown person in the

world. The reasons for secrecy were undefined; at least, Penrod did not define them.

After lunch his mother and his sister Margaret, a pretty girl of nineteen, dressed him for the sacrifice. They

During the earlier anguishes of the process he was mute, exceeding the pathos of the stricken calf in the

shambles; but a student of eyes might have perceived in his soul the premonitory symptoms of a sinister

uprising. At a rehearsal (in citizens' clothes) attended by mothers and grownup sisters, Mrs. Lora Rewbush

had announced that she wished the costuming to be "as medieval and artistic as possible." Otherwise, and as

to details, she said, she would leave the costumes entirely to the good taste of the children's parents. Mrs.

Schofield and Margaret were no archeologists, but they knew that their taste was as good as that of other

mothers and sisters concerned; so with perfect confidence they had planned and executed a costume for

Penrod; and the only misgiving they felt was connected with the tractability of the Child Sir Lancelot himself.

Stripped to his underwear, he had been made to wash himself vehemently; then they began by shrouding his

legs in a pair of silk stockings, once blue but now mostly whitish. Upon Penrod they visibly surpassed mere

ampleness; but they were long, and it required only a rather loose imagination to assume that they were

The upper part of his body was next concealed from view by a garment so peculiar that its description

becomes difficult. In 1886, Mrs. Schofield, then unmarried, had worn at her "comingout party" a dress of

vivid salmon silk which had been remodelled after her marriage to accord with various epochs of fashion

until a final, unskilful campaign at a dyehouse had left it in a condition certain to attract much attention to

the wearer. Mrs. Schofield had considered giving it to Della, the cook; but had decided not to do so, because

It may have been the word "medieval" (in Mrs. Lora Rewbush's rich phrase) which had inspired the idea for a

last conspicuous usefulness; at all events, the bodice of that once salmon dress, somewhat modified and

moderated, now took a position, for its farewell appearance in society, upon the back, breast, and arms of the

The area thus costumed ceased at the waist, leaving a Jaeger like and unmedieval gap thence to the tops of

the stockings. The inventive genius of woman triumphantly bridged it, but in a manner which imposes upon

history almost insuperable delicacies of narration. Penrod's father was an oldfashioned man: the twentieth

century had failed to shake his faith in red flannel for cold weather; and it was while Mrs. Schofield was

putting away her husband's winter underwear that she perceived how hopelessly one of the elder specimens

had dwindled; and simultaneously she received the inspiration which resulted in a pair of trunks for the Child

Sir Lancelot, and added an earnest bit of colour, as well as a genuine touch of the Middle Ages, to his

costume. Reversed, fore to aft, with the greater part of the legs cut off, and strips of silver braid covering the

When it had been placed upon Penrod, the stockings were attached to it by a system of safetypins, not very

perceptible at a distance. Next, after being severely warned against stooping, Penrod got his feet into the

slippers he wore to dancingschool"patentleather pumps" now decorated with large pink rosettes.

"If I can't stoop," he began, smolderingly, "I'd like to know how'm I goin' to kneel in the pag"

"You must MANAGE!" This, uttered through pins, was evidently thought to be sufficient.

They fastened some ruching about his slender neck, pinned ribbons at random all over him, and then

"Oh, yes, that's all right," she said, replying to a question put by her mother. "They always powdered their

"It doesn't seem right to meexactly," objected Mrs. Schofield, gently. "Sir Lancelot must have been ever so

"That doesn't matter," Margaret reassured her. "Nobody'll know the differenceMrs. Lora Rewbush least of

all. I don't think she knows a thing about it, though, of course, she does write splendidly and the words of the

Stand still, Penrod!" (The author of "Harold Ramorez" had moved convulsively.) "Besides, powdered hair's

The pride and admiration with which she pronounced this undeniable truth might have been thought tactless,

but Penrod, not analytical, found his spirits somewhat elevated. No mirror was in his range of vision and,

though he had submitted to cursory measurements of his person a week earlier, he had no previous

acquaintance with the costume. He began to form a not unpleasing mental picture of his appearance,

something somewhere between the portraits of George Washington and a vivid memory of Miss Julia

He was additionally cheered by a sword which had been borrowed from a neighbor, who was a Knight of

Pythias. Finally there was a mantle, an old golf cape of Margaret's. Fluffy polkadots of white cotton had

been sewed to it generously; also it was ornamented with a large cross of red flannel, suggested by the picture

of a Crusader in a newspaper advertisement. The mantle was fastened to Penrod's shoulder (that is, to the

shoulder of Mrs. Schofield's exbodice) by means of large safety pins, and arranged to hang down behind

him, touching his heels, but obscuring nowise the glory of his facade. Then, at last, he was allowed to step

It was a fulllength glass, and the worst immediately happened. It might have been a little less violent,

perhaps, if Penrod's expectations had not been so richly and poetically idealized; but as things were, the

Victor Hugo's account of the fight with the devilfish, in "Toilers of the Sea," encourages a belief that, had

Hugo lived and increased in power, he might have been equal to a proper recital of the half hour which

followed Penrod's first sight of himself as the Child Sir Lancelot. But Mr. Wilson himself, dastard but

eloquent foe of Harold Ramorez, could not have expressed, with all the vile dashes at his command, the

sentiments which animated Penrod's bosom when the instantaneous and unalterable conviction descended

upon him that he was intended by his loved ones to make a public spectacle of himself in his sister's stockings

To him these familiar things were not disguised at all; there seemed no possibility that the whole world would

not know them at a glance. The stockings were worse than the bodice. He had been assured that these could

not be recognized, but, seeing them in the mirror, he was sure that no human eye could fail at first glance to

detect the difference between himself and the former purposes of these stockings. Fold, wrinkle, and void

shrieked their history with a hundred tongues, invoking earthquake, eclipse, and blue ruin. The frantic youth's

final submission was obtained only after a painful telephonic conversation between himself and his father, the

latter having been called up and upon, by the exhausted Mrs. Schofield, to subjugate his offspring by wire.

The two ladies made all possible haste, after this, to deliver Penrod into the hands of Mrs. Lora Rewbush;

nevertheless, they found opportunity to exchange earnest congratulations upon his not having recognized the

humble but serviceable paternal garment now brilliant about the Lancelotish middle. Altogether, they felt that

the costume was a success. Penrod looked like nothing ever remotely imagined by Sir Thomas Malory or

Alfred Tennyson;for that matter, he looked like nothing ever before seen on earth; but as Mrs. Schofield

and Margaret took their places in the audience at the Women's Arts and Guild Hall, the anxiety they felt

concerning Penrod's elocutionary and gesticular powers, so soon to be put to public test, was pleasantly

tempered by their satisfaction that, owing to their efforts, his outward appearance would be a credit to the

The Child Sir Lancelot found himself in a large anteroom behind the stagea room crowded with excited

children, all about equally medieval and artistic. Penrod was less conspicuous than he thought himself, but he

was so preoccupied with his own shame, steeling his nerves to meet the first inevitable taunting reference to

his sister's stockings, that he failed to perceive there were others present in much of his own unmanned

condition. Retiring to a corner, immediately upon his entrance, he managed to unfasten the mantle at the

shoulders, and, drawing it round him, pinned it again at his throat so that it concealed the rest of his costume.

This permitted a temporary relief, but increased his horror of the moment when, in pursuance of the action of

Some of the other child knights were also keeping their mantles close about them. A few of the envied

opulent swung brilliant fabrics from their shoulders, airily, showing off hired splendours from a professional

costumer's stock, while one or two were insulting examples of parental indulgence, particularly little Maurice

Levy, the Child Sir Galahad. This shrinking person went clamorously about, making it known everywhere

that the best tailor in town had been dazzled by a great sum into constructing his costume. It consisted of blue

velvet knickerbockers, a white satin waistcoat, and a beautifully cut little swallowtailed coat with pearl

buttons. The medieval and artistic triumph was completed by a mantle of yellow velvet, and little white

All this radiance paused in a brilliant career and addressed the Child Sir Lancelot, gathering an immediately

formed semicircular audience of little girls. Woman was ever the trailer of magnificence.

"What YOU got on?" inquired Mr. Levy, after dispensing information. "What you got on under that ole golf

Penrod looked upon him coldly. At other times his questioner would have approached him with deference,

even with apprehension. But today the Child Sir Galahad was somewhat intoxicated with the power of his

"Oh, nothin'," said Penrod, with an indifference assumed at great cost to his nervous system.

The elate Maurice was inspired to set up as a wit. "Then you're nakid!" he shouted exultantly. "Penrod

Schofield says he hasn't got nothin' on under that ole golf cape! He's nakid! He's nakid."

The indelicate little girls giggled delightedly, and a javelin pierced the inwards of Penrod when he saw that

the Child Elaine, ambercurled and beautiful Marjorie Jones, lifted golden laughter to the horrid jest.

Other boys and girls came flocking to the uproar. "He's nakid, he's nakid!" shrieked the Child Sir Galahad.

"Hush, hush!" said Mrs. Lora Rewbush, pushing her way into the group. "Remember, we are all little knights

and ladies to day. Little knights and ladies of the Table Round would not make so much noise. Now

Penrod made his escape under cover of this diversion: he slid behind Mrs. Lora Rewbush, and being near a

door, opened it unnoticed and went out quickly, closing it behind him. He found himself in a narrow and

Burning with outrage, heartsick at the sweet, coldblooded laughter of Marjorie Jones, Penrod rested his

elbows upon a windowsill and speculated upon the effects of a leap from the second story. One of the

reasons he gave it up was his desire to live on Maurice Levy's account: already he was forming educational

A stout man in blue overalls passed through the hallway muttering to himself petulantly. "I reckon they'll find

that hall hot enough NOW!" he said, conveying to Penrod an impression that some too feminine women had

sent him upon an unreasonable errand to the furnace. He went into the Janitor's Room and, emerging a

moment later, minus the overalls, passed Penrod again with a bass rumble"Dern 'em!" it seemed he said

The conglomerate and delicate rustle of a large, mannerly audience was heard as the janitor opened and

closed the door; and stagefright seized the boy. The orchestra began an overture, and, at that, Penrod,

trembling violently, tiptoed down the hall into the Janitor's Room. It was a culdesac: There was no outlet

Despairingly he doffed his mantle and looked down upon himself for a last sickening assurance that the

stockings were as obviously and disgracefully Margaret's as they had seemed in the mirror at home. For a

moment he was encouraged: perhaps he was no worse than some of the other boys. Then he noticed that a

safetypin had opened; one of those connecting the stockings with his trunks. He sat down to fasten it and his

eye fell for the first time with particular attention upon the trunks. Until this instant he had been preoccupied

The Schofields' house stood on a corner at the intersection of two maintravelled streets; the fence was low,

and the publicity obtained by the washable portion of the family apparel, on Mondays, had often been painful

to Penrod; for boys have a peculiar sensitiveness in these matters. A plain, matteroffact washerwoman'

employed by Mrs. Schofield, never left anything to the imagination of the passerby; and of all her calm

display the scarlet flaunting of his father's winter wear had most abashed Penrod. One day Marjorie Jones, all

gold and starch, had passed when the dreadful things were on the line: Penrod had hidden himself,

shuddering. The whole town, he was convinced, knew these garments intimately and derisively.

And now, as he sat in the janitor's chair, the horrible and paralyzing recognition came. He had not an instant's

doubt that every fellow actor, as well as every soul in the audience, would recognize what his mother and

sister had put upon him. For as the awful truth became plain to himself it seemed blazoned to the world; and

far, far louder than the stockings, the trunks did fairly bellow the grisly secret: WHOSE they were and

Most people have suffered in a dream the experience of finding themselves very inadequately clad in the

midst of a crowd of welldressed people, and such dreamers' sensations are comparable to Penrod's, though

faintly, because Penrod was awake and in much too full possession of the most active capacities for anguish.

A human male whose dress has been damaged, or reveals some vital lack, suffers from a hideous and

shameful loneliness which makes every second absolutely unbearable until he is again as others of his sex

and species; and there is no act or sin whatever too desperate for him in his struggle to attain that condition.

Also, there is absolutely no embarrassment possible to a woman which is comparable to that of a man under

corresponding circumstances and in this a boy is a man. Gazing upon the ghastly trunks, the stricken Penrod

felt that he was a degree worse then nude; and a great horror of himself filled his soul.

The door into the hallway opened, and a voice demanded him. He could not be seen from the hallway, but the

hue and the cry was up; and he knew he must be taken. It was only a question of seconds. He huddled in his

The distracted boy rose and, as he did so, a long pin sank deep into his back. He extracted it frenziedly, which

brought to his ears a protracted and sonorous ripping, too easily located by a final gesture of horror.

And now, in this extremity, when all seemed lost indeed, particularly including honour, the dilating eye of the

outlaw fell upon the blue overalls which the janitor had left hanging upon a peg.

"Penrod!" Mrs. Lora Rewbush stood in the doorway, indignantly gazing upon a Child Sir Lancelot mantled to

the heels. "Do you know that you have kept an audience of five hundred people waiting for ten minutes?"

"Well," said Penrod contentedly, as he followed her toward the buzzing stage, "I was just sitting there

Two minutes later the curtain rose on a medieval castle hall richly done in the new stagecraft made in

Germany and consisting of pink and blue cheesecloth. The Child King Arthur and the Child Queen Guinevere

were disclosed upon thrones, with the Child Elaine and many other celebrities in attendance; while about

fifteen Child Knights were seated at a diningroom table round, which was covered with a large Oriental rug,

and displayed (for the knights' refreshment) a banquet service of silver lovingcups and trophies, borrowed

In addition to this splendour, potted plants and palms have seldom been more lavishly used in any castle on

The footlights were aided by a "spotlight" from the rear of the hall; and the children were revealed in a blaze

A hushed, multitudinous "OOH" of admiration came from the decorous and delighted audience. Then the

"Chuldrun of the Tabul Round, Littul knights and ladies we. Let our voysiz all resound Faith and hope and

The Child King Arthur rose, extended his sceptre with the decisive gesture of a semaphore, and spake:

"Each littul knight and lady born Has noble deeds TO perform In THEE childworld of shivullree, No matter

how small his share may be. Let each advance and tell in turn What claim has each to knighthood earn."

The Child Sir Mordred, the villain of this piece, rose in his place at the table round, and piped the only lines

ever written by Mrs. Lora Rewbush which Penrod Schofield could have pronounced without loathing.

Georgie Bassett, a really angelic boy, had been selected for the role of Mordred. His perfect conduct had

earned for him the sardonic sobriquet, "The Little Gentleman," among his boy acquaintances. (Naturally he

had no friends.) Hence the other boys supposed that he had been selected for the wicked Mordred as a reward

"I hight Sir Mordred the Child, and I teach Lessons of selfishest evil, and reach Out into darkness.

The Child Mordred was properly rebuked and denied the accolade, though, like the others, he seemed to have

assumed the title already. He made a plotter's exit. Whereupon Maurice Levy rose, bowed, announced that he

"I am the purest of the pure. I have but kindest thoughts each day. I give my riches to the poor, And follow in

This elicited tokens of approval from the Child King Arthur, and he bade Maurice "stand forth" and come

It was Penrod's turn. He stepped back from his chair, the table between him and the audience, and began in a

"I hight Sir Lancelot du Lake, the Child, Gentulhearted, meek, and mild. What though I'm BUT a littul

Penrod paused and gulped. The voice of Mrs. Lora Rewbush was heard from the wings, prompting irritably,

This also met the royal favour, and Penrod was bidden to join Sir Galahad at the throne. As he crossed the

"That boy! He's unpinned his mantle and fixed it to cover his whole costume. After we worked so hard to

"Never mind; he'll have to take the cape off in a minute," returned Margaret. She leaned forward suddenly,

narrowing her eyes to see better. "What IS that thing hanging about his left ankle?" she whispered uneasily.

"His left foot. It makes him stumble. Don't you see? It looksit looks like an elephant's foot!"

The Child Sir Lancelot and the Child Sir Galahad clasped hands before their Child King. Penrod was

conscious of a great uplift; in a moment he would have to throw aside his mantle, but even so he was

protected and sheltered in the human garment of a man. His stagefright had passed, for the audience was but

an indistinguishable blur of darkness beyond the dazzling lights. His most repulsive speech (that in which he

proclaimed himself a "tot") was over and done with; and now at last the small, moist hand of the Child Sir

Galahad lay within his own. Craftily his brown fingers stole from Maurice's palm to the wrist. The two boys

"We are two chuldrun of the Tabul Round Strewing kindness all around. With love and good deeds striving

ever for the best, May our littul efforts e'er be blest. Two littul hearts we offer. See United in love, faith,

The conclusion of the duet was marred. The Child Sir Galahad suddenly stiffened, and, uttering an

irrepressible shriek of anguish, gave a brief exhibition of the contortionist's art. ("HE'S TWISTIN' MY

The voice of Mrs. Lora Rewbush was again heard from the wings; it sounded bloodthirsty. Penrod released

his victim; and the Child King Arthur, somewhat disconcerted, extended his sceptre and, with the assistance

"Sweet childfriends of the Tabul Round, In brotherly love and kindness abound, Sir Lancelot, you have

spoken well, Sir Galahad, too, as clear as bell. So now pray doff your mantles gay. You shall be knighted this

Simultaneously, a thick and vasty gasp came from the audience, as from five hundred bathers in a wholly

unexpected surf. This gasp was punctuated irregularly, over the auditorium, by imperfectly subdued screams

both of dismay and incredulous joy, and by two dismal shrieks. Altogether it was an extraordinary sound, a

sound never to be forgotten by any one who heard it. It was almost as unforgettable as the sight which caused

it; the word "sight" being here used in its vernacular sense, for Penrod, standing unmantled and revealed in all

the medieval and artistic glory of the janitor's blue overalls, falls within its meaning.

The janitor was a heavy man, and his overalls, upon Penrod, were merely oceanic. The boy was at once

swaddled and lost within their blue gulfs and vast saggings; and the left leg, too hastily rolled up, had

descended with a distinctively elephantine effect, as Margaret had observed. Certainly, the Child Sir Lancelot

It is probable that a great many in that hall must have had, even then, a consciousness that they were looking

on at History in the Making. A supreme act is recognizable at sight: it bears the birthmark of immortality. But

Penrod, that marvellous boy, had begun to declaim, even with the gesture of flinging off his mantle for the

"I first, the Child Sir Lancelot du Lake, Will volunteer to knighthood take, And kneeling here before your

He finished his speech unheard. The audience had recovered breath, but had lost selfcontrol, and there

The actors in the "pageant" were not so dumfounded by Penrod's costume as might have been expected. A

few precocious geniuses perceived that the overalls were the Child Lancelot's own comment on maternal

intentions; and these were profoundly impressed: they regarded him with the grisly admiration of young and

ambitious criminals for a jailmate about to be distinguished by hanging. But most of the children simply

took it to be the case (a little strange, but not startling) that Penrod's mother had dressed him like thatwhich

They made a brief, manful effort. But the irrepressible outbursts from the audience bewildered them; every

time Sir Lancelot du Lake the Child opened his mouth, the great, shadowy house fell into an uproar, and the

children into confusion. Strong women and brave girls in the audience went out into the lobby, shrieking and

clinging to one another. Others remained, rocking in their seats, helpless and spent. The neighbourhood of

Mrs. Schofield and Margaret became, tactfully, a desert. Friends of the author went behind the scenes and

encountered a hitherto unknown phase of Mrs. Lora Rewbush; they said, afterward, that she hardly seemed to

know what she was doing. She begged to be left alone somewhere with Penrod Schofield, for just a little

The sun was setting behind the back fence (though at a considerable distance) as Penrod Schofield

approached that fence and looked thoughtfully up at the top of it, apparently having in mind some purpose to

climb up and sit there. Debating this, he passed his fingers gently up and down the backs of his legs; and then

something seemed to decide him not to sit anywhere. He leaned against the fence, sighed profoundly, and

The sigh was reminiscent: episodes of simple pathos were passing before his inward eye. About the most

painful was the vision of lovely Marjorie Jones, weeping with rage as the Child Sir Lancelot was dragged,

insatiate, from the prostrate and howling Child Sir Galahad, after an onslaught delivered the precise instant

the curtain began to fall upon the demoralized "pageant." And thenoh, pangs! oh, woman!she slapped at

the ruffian's cheek, as he was led past her by a resentful janitor; and turning, flung her arms round the Child

At home the late Child Sir Lancelot was consigned to a locked clothescloset pending the arrival of his

father. Mr. Schofield came and, shortly after, there was put into practice an old patriarchal custom. It is a

custom of inconceivable antiquity: probably primordial, certainly prehistoric, but still in vogue in some

His case is comparable to that of an adult who could have survived a similar experience. Looking back to the

sawdustbox, fancy pictures this comparable adult a serious and inventive writer engaged in congenial

literary activities in a private retreat. We see this period marked by the creation of some of the most virile

passages of a Work dealing exclusively in red corpuscles and huge primal impulses. We see this thoughtful

man dragged from his calm seclusion to a horrifying publicity; forced to adopt the stage and, himself a writer,

compelled to exploit the repulsive sentiments of an author not only personally distasteful to him but whose

We see him reduced by desperation and modesty to stealing a pair of overalls. We conceive him to have

ruined, then, his own reputation, and to have utterly disgraced his family; next, to have engaged in the duello

and to have been spurned by his ladylove, thus lost to him (according to her own declaration) forever.

Finally, we must behold: imprisonment by the authorities; the third degree and flagellation.

We conceive our man decided that his career had been perhaps too eventful. Yet Penrod had condensed all of

It appears that he had at least some shadowy perception of a recent fulness of life, for, as he leaned against

But in a little while a star came out, freshly lighted, from the highest part of the sky, and Penrod, looking up,

noticed it casually and a little drowsily. He yawned. Then he sighed once more, but not reminiscently:

Next day, Penrod acquired a dime by a simple and antique process which was without doubt sometimes

practised by the boys of Babylon. When the teacher of his class in Sundayschool requested the weekly

contribution, Penrod, fumbling honestly (at first) in the wrong pockets, managed to look so embarrassed that

the gentle lady told him not to mind, and said she was often forgetful herself. She was so sweet about it that,

looking into the future, Penrod began to feel confident of a small but regular income.

At the close of the afternoon services he did not go home, but proceeded to squander the funds just withheld

from China upon an orgy of the most pungently forbidden description. In a Drug Emporium, near the church,

he purchased a fivecent sack of candy consisting for the most part of the heavily flavoured hoofs of horned

cattle, but undeniably substantial, and so generously capable of resisting solution that the purchaser must

Equipped with this collation, Penrod contributed his remaining nickel to a picture show, countenanced upon

the seventh day by the legal but not the moral authorities. Here, in cozy darkness, he placidly insulted his

liver with jawbreaker upon jawbreaker from the paper sack, and in a surfeit of content watched the silent

One film made a lasting impression upon him. It depicted with relentless pathos the drunkard's progress;

beginning with his conversion to beer in the company of loose travelling men; pursuing him through an

inexplicable lapse into evening clothes and the society of some remarkably painful ladies, next, exhibiting the

effects of alcohol on the victim's domestic disposition, the unfortunate man was seen in the act of striking his

wife and, subsequently, his pleading baby daughter with an abnormally heavy walkingstick. Their

flightthrough the snow to seek the protection of a relative was shown, and finally, the drunkard's

So fascinated was Penrod that he postponed his departure until this film came round again, by which time he

had finished his unnatural repast and almost, but not quite, decided against following the profession of a

Emerging, satiated, from the theatre, a public timepiece before a jeweller's shop confronted him with an

unexpected dial and imminent perplexities. How was he to explain at home these hours of dalliance? There

was a steadfast rule that he return direct from Sundayschool; and Sunday rules were important, because on

that day there was his father, always at home and at hand, perilously ready for action. One of the hardest

conditions of boyhood is the almost continuous strain put upon the powers of invention by the constant and

Proceeding homeward through the deepening twilight as rapidly as possible, at a gait half skip and half

canter, Penrod made up his mind in what manner he would account for his long delay, and, as he drew nearer,

"Now see here," he determined to begin; "I do not wished to be blamed for things I couldn't help, nor any

other boy. I was going along the street by a cottage and a lady put her head out of the window and said her

husband was drunk and whipping her and her little girl, and she asked me wouldn't I come in and help hold

him. So I went in and tried to get hold of this drunken lady's husband where he was whipping their baby

daughter, but he wouldn't pay any attention, and I TOLD her I ought to be getting home, but she kep' on

At this point he reached the corner of his own yard, where a coincidence not only checked the rehearsal of his

eloquence but happily obviated all occasion for it. A cab from the station drew up in front of the gate, and

there descended a troubled lady in black and a fragile little girl about three. Mrs. Schofield rushed from the

They were Penrod's Aunt Clara and cousin, also Clara, from Dayton, Illinois, and in the flurry of their arrival

everybody forgot to put Penrod to the question. It is doubtful, however, if he felt any relief; there may have

been even a slight, unconscious disappointment not altogether dissimilar to that of an actor deprived of a

In the course of some really necessary preparations for dinner he stepped from the bathroom into the

pinkandwhite bedchamber of his sister, and addressed her rather thickly through a towel.

"Not till she saw them from the window. She just happened to look out as they drove up. Aunt Clara

Penrod ceased to rub his shining face, and thoughtfully tossed the towel through the bathroom door. "Uncle

John won't try to make 'em come back home, I guess, will he?" (Uncle John was Aunt Clara's husband, a

successful manufacturer of stoves, and his lifelong regret was that he had not entered the Baptist ministry.)

"What ARE you talking about?" demanded Margaret, turning from her mirror. "Uncle John sent them here.

"Certainly not!" She emphasized the denial with a pretty peal of soprano laughter.

"Then why," asked her brother gloomily, "why did Aunt Clara look so worried when she got here?"

"Good gracious! Don't people worry about anything except somebody's drinking? Where did you get such an

She laughed again, wholeheartedly. "Poor Uncle John! He won't even allow grape juice or ginger ale in his

house. They came because they were afraid little Clara might catch the measles. She's very delicate, and

there's such an epidemic of measles among the children over in Dayton the schools had to be closed. Uncle

John got so worried that last night he dreamed about it; and this morning he couldn't stand it any longer and

packed them off over here, though he thinks its wicked to travel on Sunday. And Aunt Clara was worried

when she got here because they'd forgotten to check her trunk and it will have to be sent by express. Now

what in the name of the common sense put it into your head that Uncle John had taken to"

"Oh, nothing." He turned lifelessly away and went downstairs, a newborn hope dying in his bosom. Life

Next morning, when he had once more resumed the dreadful burden of education, it seemed infinitely duller.

And yet what pleasanter sight is there than a schoolroom well filled with children of those sprouting years

just before the 'teens? The casual visitor, gazing from the teacher's platform upon these busy little heads,

needs only a blunted memory to experience the most agreeable and exhilarating sensations. Still, for the

greater part, the children are unconscious of the happiness of their condition; for nothing is more pathetically

true than that we "never know when we are well off." The boys in a public school are less aware of their

happy state than are the girls; and of all the boys in his room, probably Penrod himself had the least

He sat staring at an open page of a textbook, but not studying; not even reading; not even thinking. Nor was

he lost in a reverie: his mind's eye was shut, as his physical eye might well have been, for the optic nerve,

flaccid with ennui, conveyed nothing whatever of the printed page upon which the orb of vision was partially

focused. Penrod was doing something very unusual and rare, something almost never accomplished except by

coloured people or by a boy in school on a spring day: he was doing really nothing at all. He was merely a

From the street a sound stole in through the open window, and abhorring Nature began to fill the vacuum

called Penrod Schofield; for the sound was the spring song of a mouthorgan, coming down the sidewalk.

The windows were intentionally above the level of the eyes of the seated pupils; but the picture of the

musician was plain to Penrod, painted for him by a quality in the runs and trills, partaking of the oboe, of the

calliope, and of cats in anguish; an excruciating sweetness obtained only by the wallowing, walloping

yellowpink palm of a hand whose back was Congo black and shiny. The music came down the street and

passed beneath the window, accompanied by the carefree shuffling of a pair of old shoes scuffing

syncopations on the cement sidewalk. It passed into the distance; became faint and blurred; was gone.

Emotion stirred in Penrod a great and poignant desire, but (perhaps fortunately) no fairy godmother made her

Otherwise Penrod would have gone down the street in a black skin, playing the mouthorgan, and an

unprepared coloured youth would have found himself enjoying educational advantages for which he had no

Roused from perfect apathy, the boy cast about the schoolroom an eye wearied to nausea by the perpetual

vision of the neat teacher upon the platform, the backs of the heads of the pupils in front of him, and the

monotonous stretches of blackboard threateningly defaced by arithmetical formulae and other insignia of

torture. Above the blackboard, the walls of the high room were of white plasterwhite with the qualified

whiteness of old snow in a soft coal town. This dismal expanse was broken by four lithographic portraits,

votive offerings of a thoughtful publisher. The portraits were of good and great men, kind men; men who

loved children. Their faces were noble and benevolent. But the lithographs offered the only rest for the eyes

of children fatigued by the everlasting sameness of the schoolroom. Long day after long day, interminable

week in and interminable week out, vast month on vast month, the pupils sat with those four portraits

beaming kindness down upon them. The faces became permanent in the consciousness of the children; they

became an obsessionin and out of school the children were never free of them. The four faces haunted the

minds of children falling asleep; they hung upon the minds of children waking at night; they rose

forebodingly in the minds of children waking in the morning; they became monstrously alive in the minds of

children lying sick of fever. Never, while the children of that schoolroom lived, would they be able to forget

one detail of the four lithographs: the hand of Longfellow was fixed, for them, forever, in his beard. And by a

simple and unconscious association of ideas, Penrod Schofield was accumulating an antipathy for the gentle

Longfellow and for James Russell Lowell and for Oliver Wendell Holmes and for John Greenleaf Whittier,

which would never permit him to peruse a work of one of those great New Englanders without a feeling of

His eyes fell slowly and inimically from the brow of Whittier to the braid of reddish hair belonging to

Victorine Riordan, the little octoroon girl who sat directly in front of him. Victorine's back was as familiar to

Penrod as the necktie of Oliver Wendell Holmes. So was her gayly coloured plaid waist. He hated the waist

as he hated Victorine herself, without knowing why. Enforced companionship in large quantities and on an

equal basis between the sexes appears to sterilize the affections, and schoolroom romances are few.

Victorine's hair was thick, and the brickish glints in it were beautiful, but Penrod was very tired of it. A tiny

knot of green ribbon finished off the braid and kept it from unravelling; and beneath the ribbon there was a

final wisp of hair which was just long enough to repose upon Penrod's desk when Victorine leaned back in

her seat. It was there now. Thoughtfully, he took the braid between thumb and forefinger, and, without

disturbing Victorine, dipped the end of it and the green ribbon into the inkwell of his desk. He brought hair

and ribbon forth dripping purple ink, and partially dried them on a blotter, though, a moment later when

Victorine leaned forward, they were still able to add a few picturesque touches to the plaid waist.

Rudolph Krauss, across the aisle from Penrod, watched the operation with protuberant eyes, fascinated.

Inspired to imitation, he took a piece of chalk from his pocket and wrote "RATS" across the shoulderblades

of the boy in front of him, then looked across appealingly to Penrod for tokens of congratulation. Penrod

yawned. It may not be denied that at times he appeared to be a very selfcentred boy.

Half the members of the class passed out to a recitationroom, the empurpled Victorine among them, and

Miss Spence started the remaining half through the ordeal of trial by mathematics. Several boys and girls

were sent to the blackboard, and Penrod, spared for the moment, followed their operations a little while with

his eyes, but not with his mind; then, sinking deeper in his seat, limply abandoned the effort. His eyes

remained open, but saw nothing; the routine of the arithmetic lesson reached his ears in familiar, meaningless

sounds, but he heard nothing; and yet, this time, he was profoundly occupied. He had drifted away from the

painful land of facts, and floated now in a new sea of fancy which he had just discovered.

Maturity forgets the marvellous realness of a boy's day dreams, how colourful they glow, rosy and living,

and how opaque the curtain closing down between the dreamer and the actual world. That curtain is almost

The nervous monotony of the schoolroom inspires a sometimes unbearable longing for something astonishing

to happen, and as every boy's fundamental desire is to do something astonishing himself, so as to be the

centre of all human interest and awe, it was natural that Penrod should discover in fancy the delightful secret

of selflevitation. He found, in this curious series of imaginings, during the lesson in arithmetic, that the

atmosphere may be navigated as by a swimmer under water, but with infinitely greater ease and with perfect

comfort in breathing. In his mind he extended his arms gracefully, at a level with his shoulders, and delicately

paddled the air with his hands, which at once caused him to be drawn up out of his seat and elevated gently to

a position about midway between the floor and the ceiling, where he came to an equilibrium and floated; a

sensation not the less exquisite because of the screams of his fellow pupils, appalled by the miracle. Miss

Spence herself was amazed and frightened, but he only smiled down carelessly upon her when she

commanded him to return to earth; and then, when she climbed upon a desk to pull him down, he quietly

paddled himself a little higher, leaving his toes just out of her reach. Next, he swam through a few slow

somersaults to show his mastery of the new art, and, with the shouting of the dumfounded scholars ringing in

his ears, turned on his side and floated swiftly out of the window, immediately rising above the housetops,

while people in the street below him shrieked, and a trolley car stopped dead in wonder.

With almost no exertion he paddled himself, many yards at a stroke, to the girls' private school where

Marjorie Jones was a pupilMarjorie Jones of the amber curls and the golden voice! Long before the

"Pageant of the Table Round," she had offered Penrod a hundred proofs that she considered him wholly

undesirable and ineligible. At the Friday Afternoon Dancing Class she consistently incited and led the

laughter at him whenever Professor Bartet singled him out for admonition in matters of feet and decorum.

And but yesterday she had chid him for his slavish lack of memory in daring to offer her a greeting on the

way to Sundayschool. "Well! I expect you must forgot I told you never to speak to me again! If I was a boy,

I'd be too proud to come hanging around people that don't speak to me, even if I WAS the Worst Boy in

Town!" So she flouted him. But now, as he floated in through the window of her classroom and swam gently

along the ceiling like an escaped toy balloon, she fell upon her knees beside her little desk, and, lifting up her

He negligently kicked a globe from the high chandelier, and, smiling coldly, floated out through the hall to

the front steps of the school, while Marjorie followed, imploring him to grant her one kind look.

In the street an enormous crowd had gathered, headed by Miss Spence and a brass band; and a cheer from a

hundred thousand throats shook the very ground as Penrod swam overhead. Marjorie knelt upon the steps and

watched adoringly while Penrod took the drummajor's baton and, performing sinuous evolutions above the

crowd, led the band. Then he threw the baton so high that it disappeared from sight; but he went swiftly after

it, a double delight, for he had not only the delicious sensation of rocketing safely up and up into the blue sky,

but also that of standing in the crowd below, watching and admiring himself as he dwindled to a speck,

disappeared and then, emerging from a cloud, came speeding down, with the baton in his hand, to the level of

the treetops, where he beat time for the band and the vast throng and Marjorie Jones, who all united in the

"Starspangled Banner" in honour of his aerial achievements. It was a great moment.

It was a great moment, but something seemed to threaten it. The face of Miss Spence looking up from the

crowd grew too vividunpleasantly vivid. She was beckoning him and shouting, "Come down, Penrod

He could hear her above the band and the singing of the multitude; she seemed intent on spoiling everything.

Marjorie Jones was weeping to show how sorry she was that she had formerly slighted him, and throwing

kisses to prove that she loved him; but Miss Spence kept jumping between him and Marjorie, incessantly

He grew more and more irritated with her; he was the most important person in the world and was engaged in

proving it to Marjorie Jones and the whole city, and yet Miss Spence seemed to feel she still had the right to

order him about as she did in the old days when he was an ordinary schoolboy. He was furious; he was sure

she wanted him to do something disagreeable. It seemed to him that she had screamed "Penrod Schofield!"

From the beginning of his aerial experiments in his own schoolroom, he had not opened his lips, knowing

somehow that one of the requirements for air floating is perfect silence on the part of the floater; but, finally,

irritated beyond measure by Miss Spence's clamorous insistence, he was unable to restrain an indignant

Miss Spencein the fleshhad directed toward the physical body of the absent Penrod an inquiry as to the

fractional consequences of dividing seventeen apples, fairly, among three boys, and she was surprised and

displeased to receive no answer although to the best of her knowledge and belief, he was looking fixedly at

her. She repeated her question crisply, without visible effect; then summoned him by name with increasing

asperity. Twice she called him, while all his fellow pupils turned to stare at the gazing boy. She advanced a

As for Penrod himself, the walls reeled with the shock. He sat with his mouth open, a mere lump of

stupefaction. For the appalling words that he had hurled at the teacher were as inexplicable to him as to any

Nothing is more treacherous than the human mind; nothing else so loves to play the Iscariot. Even when

patiently bullied into a semblance of order and training, it may prove but a base and shifty servant. And

Penrod's mind was not his servant; it was a master, with the April wind's whims; and it had just played him a

diabolical trick. The very jolt with which he came back to the schoolroom in the midst of his fancied flight

jarred his daydream utterly out of him; and he sat, openmouthed in horror at what he had said.

The unanimous gasp of awe was protracted. Miss Spence, however, finally recovered her breath, and,

returning deliberately to the platform, faced the school. "And then for a little while," as pathetic stories

sometimes recount, "everything was very still." It was so still, in fact, that Penrod's newborn notoriety could

He hung his head, raked the floor with the side of his shoe, swayed, swallowed, looked suddenly at his hands

with the air of never having seen them before, then clasped them behind him. The school shivered in ecstatic

horror, every fascinated eye upon him; yet there was not a soul in the room but was profoundly grateful to

him for the sensationincluding the offended teacher herself. Unhappily, all this gratitude was unconscious

and altogether different from the kind which, results in testimonials and lovingcups. On the contrary!

"That will not do," she returned sharply. "I wish to know immediately why you spoke as you did."

Upon the very rack he could have offered no ampler truthful explanation. It was all he knew about it.

Miss Spence's expression gave evidence that her power of selfrestraint was undergoing a remarkable test.

Then (but not at all as if nothing had happened), she continued the lesson in arithmetic. Spiritually the

children may have learned a lesson in very small fractions indeed as they gazed at the fragment of sin before

them on the stool of penitence. They all stared at him attentively with hard and passionately interested eyes,

in which there was never one trace of pity. It cannot be said with precision that he writhed; his movement was

more a slow, continuous squirm, effected with a ghastly assumption of languid indifference; while his gaze,

in the effort to escape the marblehearted glare of his schoolmates, affixed itself with apparent permanence

to the waistcoat button of James Russell Lowell just above the "U" in "Russell."

Classes came and classes went, grilling him with eyes. Newcomers received the story of the crime in darkling

whispers; and the outcast sat and sat and sat, and squirmed and squirmed and squirmed. (He did one or two

things with his spine which a professional contortionist would have observed with real interest.) And all this

while of freezing suspense was but the criminal's detention awaiting trial. A known punishment may be

anticipated with some measure of equanimity; at least, the prisoner may prepare himself to undergo it; but the

unknown looms more monstrous for every attempt to guess it. Penrod's crime was unique; there were no rules

to aid him in estimating the vengeance to fall upon him for it. What seemed most probable was that he would

be expelled from the schools in the presence of his family, the mayor, and council, and afterward whipped by

his father upon the State House steps, with the entire city as audience by invitation of the authorities.

Noon came. The rows of children filed out, every head turning for a last unpleasingly speculative look at the

outlaw. Then Miss Spence closed the door into the cloakroom and that into the big hall, and came and sat at

her desk, near Penrod. The tramping of feet outside, the shrill calls and shouting and the changing voices of

the older boys ceased to be heardand there was silence. Penrod, still affecting to be occupied with Lowell,

"Penrod," she said gravely, "what excuse have you to offer before I report your case to the principal?"

The word "principal" struck him to the vitals. Grand Inquisitor, Grand Khan, Sultan, Emperor, Tsar, Caesar

"That won't do, Penrod Schofield," she repeated severely. "If that is all the excuse you have to offer I shall

But Penrod was one of those whom the precipice inspires. "Well, I HAVE got an excuse."

He had not an idea, but he felt one coming, and replied automatically, in a plaintive tone:

"I guess anybody that had been through what I had to go through, last night, would think they had an excuse."

Miss Spence resumed her seat, though with the air of being ready to leap from it instantly.

"Well, I guess you'd see," he returned, emphasizing the plaintive note, "if you knew what I know."

"Now, Penrod," she said, in a kinder voice, "I have a high regard for your mother and father, and it would

hurt me to distress them, but you must either tell me what was the matter with you or I'll have to take you to

"Well, ain't I going to?" he cried, spurred by the dread name. "It's because I didn't sleep last night."

"Then if someone in your family was so ill that even you were kept up all night, how does it happen they let

"It wasn't illness," he returned, shaking his head mournfully. "It was lots worse'n anybody's being sick. It

"Your Aunt Clara!" she repeated. "Do you mean your mother's sister who married Mr. Farry of Dayton,

Miss Spence frowned a frown which he rightly interpreted as one of continued suspicion. "She and I were in

school together," she said. "I used to know her very well, and I've always heard her married life was entirely

"Yes, it was," he interrupted, "until last year when Uncle John took to running with travelling men"

"Yes'm." He nodded solemnly. "That was what started it. At first he was a good, kind husband, but these

travelling men would coax him into a saloon on his way home from work, and they got him to drinking beer

"I'm not inquiring into your Aunt Clara's private affairs; I'm asking you if you have anything to say which

"That's what I'm tryin' to TELL you about, Miss Spence," he pleaded,"if you'd jest only let me. When Aunt

"Yes'mnot just visitingyou see, she HAD to come. Well of course, little baby Clara, she was so bruised

"You mean that your uncle had done such a thing as THAT!" exclaimed Miss Spence, suddenly disarmed by

"Yes'm, and mamma and Margaret had to sit up all night nursin' little Claraand AUNT Clara was in such a

state SOMEBODY had to keep talkin' to HER, and there wasn't anybody but me to do it, so I"

"Ohpapa?" Penrod paused, reflected; then brightened. "Why, he was down at the train, waitin' to see if

Uncle John would try to follow 'em and make 'em come home so's he could persecute 'em some more. I

wanted to do that, but they said if he did come I mightn't be strong enough to hold him and" The brave

lad paused again, modestly. Miss Spence's expression was encouraging. Her eyes were wide with

astonishment, and there may have been in them, also, the mingled beginnings of admiration and

"And so," he continued, "I had to sit up with Aunt Clara. She had some pretty big bruises, too, and I had

"But why didn't they send for a doctor?" However, this question was only a flicker of dying incredulity.

"Oh, they didn't want any DOCTOR," exclaimed the inspired realist promptly. "They don't want anybody to

HEAR about it because Uncle John might reformand then where'd he be if everybody knew he'd been a

"You see, he used to be upright as anybody," he went on explanatively. "It all begun"

"Yes'm. It all commenced from the first day he let those travelling men coax him into the saloon." Penrod

narrated the downfall of his Uncle John at length. In detail he was nothing short of plethoric; and incident

followed incident, sketched with such vividness, such abundance of colour, and such verisimilitude to a

drunkard's life as a drunkard's life should be, that had Miss Spence possessed the rather chilling attributes of

William J. Burns himself, the last trace of skepticism must have vanished from her mind. Besides, there are

two things that will be believed of any man whatsoever, and one of them is that he has taken to drink. And in

every sense it was a moving picture which, with simple but eloquent words, the virtuous Penrod set before his

His eloquence increased with what it fed on; and as with the eloquence so with selfreproach in the gentle

bosom of the teacher. She cleared her throat with difficulty once or twice, during his description of his

ministering night with Aunt Clara. "And I said to her, `Why, Aunt Clara, what's the use of takin' on so about

it?' And I said, `Now, Aunt Clara, all the crying in the world can't make things any better.' And then she'd just

keep catchin' hold of me, and sob and kind of holler, and I'd say, `DON'T cry, Aunt ClaraPLEASE don't

Then, under the influence of some fragmentary survivals of the respectable portion of his Sunday adventures,

his theme became more exalted; and, only partially misquoting a phrase from a psalm, he related how he had

made it of comfort to Aunt Clara, and how he had besought her to seek Higher guidance in her trouble.

The surprising thing about a structure such as Penrod was erecting is that the taller it becomes the more

ornamentation it will stand. Gifted boys have this faculty of building magnificence upon cobwebsand

Penrod was gifted. Under the spell of his really great performance, Miss Spence gazed more and more

sweetly upon the prodigy of spiritual beauty and goodness before her, until at last, when Penrod came to the

"You mean, dear," she said gently, "that you were all worn out and hardly knew what you were saying?"

"And you were thinking about all those dreadful things so hard that you forgot where you were?"

The returning students, that afternoon, observed that Penrod's desk was vacantand nothing could have been

more impressive than that sinister mere emptiness. The accepted theory was that Penrod had been arrested.

How breathtaking, then, the sensation when, at the beginning of the second hour, he strolledin with

inimitable carelessness and, rubbing his eyes, somewhat noticeably in the manner of one who has snatched an

hour of much needed sleep, took his place as if nothing in particular had happened. This, at first supposed to

be a superhuman exhibition of sheer audacity, became but the more dumfounding when Miss

Spencelooking up from her deskgreeted him with a pleasant little nod. Even after school, Penrod gave

A mystification not entirely unconnected with the one thus produced was manifested at his own family.

dinnertable the following evening. Aunt Clara had been out rather late, and came to the table after the rest

"Do you ever see Mary Spence nowadays?" she inquired, as she unfolded her napkin, addressing Mrs.

Schofield. Penrod abruptly set down his soupspoon and gazed at his aunt with flattering attention.

"Is she?" said Mrs. Farry. "Do you" She paused. "Do people think her a littlequeer, these days?"

"She has acquired a very odd manner," said Mrs. Farry decidedly. "At least, she seemed odd to ME. I met her

at the corner just before I got to the house, a few minutes ago, and after we'd said howdydo to each other,

she kept hold of my hand and looked as though she was going to cry. She seemed to be trying to say

"But I don't think that's so very queer, Clara. She knew you in school, didn't she?"

"Wait! She stood there squeezing my hand, and struggling to get her voiceand I got really

embarrassedand then finally she said, in a kind of tearful whisper, `Be of good cheerthis trial will

"Well, I don't know," said Mrs. Schofield thoughtfully. "Of course she's heard about the outbreak of measles

"But doesn't it seem a VERY exaggerated way," suggested Margaret, "to talk about measles?"

"Wait!" begged Aunt Clara. "After she said that, she said something even queerer, and then put her

Penrod laid down his spoon again and moved his chair slightly back from the table. A spirit of prophecy was

upon him: he knew that someone was going to ask a question which he felt might better remain unspoken.

"What WAS the other thing she said?" Mr. Schofield inquired, thus immediately fulfilling his son's

"She said," returned Mrs. Farry slowly, looking about the table, "she said, `I know that Penrod is a great,

There was a general exclamation of surprise. It was a singular thing, and in no manner may it be considered

complimentary to Penrod, that this speech of Miss Spence's should have immediately confirmed Mrs. Farry's

"I never heard anything like it in my life!" Mrs. Schofield exclaimed. "Was that ALL she said?"

Penrod again resumed attention to his soup. His mother looked at him curiously, and then, struck by a sudden

thought, gathered the glances of the adults of the table by a significant movement of the head, and, by

another, conveyed an admonition to drop the subject until later. Miss Spence was Penrod's teacher: it was

better, for many reasons, not to discuss the subject of her queerness before him. This was Mrs. Schofield's

The next afternoon, Mr. Schofield, returning at five o'clock from the cares of the day, found the house

deserted, and sat down to read his evening paper in what appeared to be an uninhabited apartment known to

its own world as the "drawingroom." A sneeze, unexpected both to him and the owner, informed him of the

Stooping, Mr. Schofield discovered his son squatting under the piano, near an open windowhis wistful

"Well," the boy returned, with grave sweetness, "I was just kind of sitting herethinking."

"All right." Mr. Schofield, rather touched, returned to the digestion of a murder, his back once more to the

piano; and Penrod silently drew from beneath his jacket (where he had slipped it simultaneously with the

sneeze) a paperbacked volume entitled: "Slimsy, the Sioux City Squealer, or, `Not Guilty, Your Honor.'"

In this manner the readingclub continued in peace, absorbed, contented, the world well forgotuntil a

sudden, violently irritated slambang of the front door startled the members; and Mrs. Schofield burst into

"Henry Passloe Schofield," returned the lady, "I don't know what IS to be done with that boy; I do NOT!"

"Who else could I mean?" She sat up, exasperated, to stare at him. "Henry Passloe Schofield, you've got to

"Last night I got to thinking," she began rapidly, "about what Clara told usthank Heaven she and Margaret

and little Clara have gone to tea at Cousin Charlotte's!but they'll be home soonabout what she said

"Yes, and I kept thinking and thinking and thinking about it till I couldn't stand it any"

"By GEORGE!" shouted Mr. Schofield startlingly, stooping to look under the piano. A statement that he had

suddenly remembered his son's presence would be lacking in accuracy, for the highly sensitized Penrod was,

"Oh," she moaned, "it must be kept from Claraand I'll never hold up my head again if John Farry ever

"Well, I just couldn't stand it, I got so curious; and I thought of course if Miss Spence HAD become a little

unbalanced it was my duty to know it, as Penrod's mother and she his teacher; so I thought I would just call

"I've just come from there, and she told meshe told me! Oh, I've NEVER known anything like this!"

Mrs. Schofield, making a great effort, managed to assume a temporary appearance of calm. "Henry," she said

solemnly, "bear this in mind: whatever you do to Penrod, it must be done in some place when Clara won't

Within view of the window from which Mr. Schofield was gazing was the closed door of the storeroom in the

His young master had taught Duke to "sit up and beg" when he wanted anything, and if that didn't get it, to

"speak." Duke was facing the closed door and sitting up and begging, and now he also spokein a loud,

There was an open transom over the door, and from this descendedhurled by an unseen agencya can

It caught the small besieger of the door on his thoroughly surprised right ear, encouraged him to some

remarkable acrobatics, and turned large portions of him a dull blue. Allowing only a moment to perplexity,

and deciding, after a single and evidently unappetizing experiment, not to cleanse himself of paint, the loyal

Mr. Schofield seated himself on the windowsill, whence he could keep in view that pathetic picture of

"Go on with your story, mamma," he said. "I think I can find Penrod when we want him."

"Onetwothree; onetwothreeglide!" said Professor Bartet, emphasizing his instructions by a brisk

Round and round the ballroom went the seventeen struggling little couples of the Friday Afternoon Dancing

Class. Round and round went their reflections with them, swimming rhythmically in the polished, dark

floorwhite and blue and pink for the girls; black, with dabs of white, for the whitecollared, white gloved

boys; and sparks and slivers of high light everywhere as the glistening pumps flickered along the surface like

a school of flying fish. Every small pink facewith one exceptionwas painstaking and set for duty. It was

Mister Penrod Schofield, you lose the step. Your left foot! No, no! This is the left! Seelike me! Now again!

onetwothreegl Stop! Mr. Penrod Schofield, this dancing class is provided by the kind parents of the

pupilses as much to learn the mannerss of good societies as to dance. You think you shall ever see a

gentleman in good societies to tickle his partner in the dance till she say Ouch? Never! I assure you it is not

done. Again! Now then! Piano, please! Onetwothree; onetwothreeglide! Mr. Penrod Schofield, your

"Mr. Penrod Schofield and partner"Professor Bartet wiped his brow"will you kindly observe me?

Onetwothreeglide! So! Now thenno; you will please keep your places, ladies and gentlemen. Mr.

"Pickin' on me again!" murmured the smouldering Penrod to his small, unsympathetic partner. "Can't let me

"Teacher's pet!" whispered Penrod hoarsely. He had nothing but contempt for Georgie Bassett. The parents,

guardians, aunts, uncles, cousins, governesses, housemaids, cooks, chauffeurs and coachmen, appertaining to

the members of the dancing class, all dwelt in the same part of town and shared certain communal theories;

and among the most firmly established was that which maintained Georgie Bassett to be the Best Boy in

Town. Contrariwise, the unfortunate Penrod, largely because of his recent dazzling but disastrous attempts to

control forces far beyond him, had been given a clear title as the Worst Boy in Town. (Population, 135,000.)

To precisely what degree his reputation was the product of his own energies cannot be calculated. It was

Marjorie Jones who first applied the description, in its definite simplicity, the day after the "pageant," and,

possibly, her frequent and effusive repetitions of it, even upon wholly irrelevant occasions, had something to

"Miss Rennsdale will please do me the fafer to be Mr. Georgie Bassett's partner for one moment," said

Professor Bartet. "Mr. Penrod Schofield will please give his attention. Miss Rennsdale and Mister Bassett,

Miss Rennsdale, aged eightthe youngest lady in the class and Mr. Georgie Bassett

onetwothreeglided with consummate technique for the better education of Penrod Schofield. It is

possible that ambercurled, beautiful Marjorie felt that she, rather than Miss Rennsdale, might have been

Penrod, across the circle from her, heard distinctlynay, he was obviously intended to hear; but over a

scorched heart he preserved a stoic front. Whereupon Marjorie whispered derisively in the ear of her partner,

"Again, please, everybodyladies and gentlemen!" cried Professor Bartet. "Mister Penrod Schofield, if you

The lesson proceeded. At the close of the hour Professor Bartet stepped to the centre of the room and clapped

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you please to seat yourselves quietly," he said; "I speak to you now about

tomorrow. As you all knowMister Penrod Schofield, I am not sticking up in a tree outside that window!

If you do me the fafer to examine I am here, insides of the room. Now then! Piano, plno, I do not wish the

piano! As you all know, this is the last lesson of the season until next October. Tomorrow is our special

afternoon; beginning three o'clock, we dance the cotillon. But this afternoon comes the test of mannerss. You

must see if each know how to make a little formal call like a grownup people in good societies. You have

had good, perfect instruction; let us see if we know how to perform like societies ladies and gentlemen

"Now, when you're dismissed each lady will go to her home and prepare to receive a call. The gentlemen will

allow the ladies time to reach their houses and to prepare to receive callers; then each gentleman will call

upon a lady and beg the pleasure to engage her for a partner in the cotillon tomorrow. You all know the

correct, proper form for these calls, because didn't I work teaching you last lesson till I thought I would drop

dead? Yes! Now each gentleman, if he reach a lady's house behind someother gentleman, then he must go

somewhere else to a lady's house, and keep calling until he secures a partner; so, as there are the same

"Now please all remember that if in caseMister Penrod Schofield, when you make your call on a lady I beg

you to please remember that gentlemen in good societies do not scratch the back in societies as you appear to

attempt; so please allow the hands to rest carelessly in the lap. Now please all remember that if in

caseMister Penrod Schofield, if you please! Gentlemen in societies do not scratch the back by causing

frictions between it and the back of your chair, either! Nobody else is itching here! _I_ do not itch! I cannot

talk if you must itch! In the name of Heaven, why must you always itch? What was I saying? Where ah! the

cotillonyes! For the cotillon it is important nobody shall fail to be here tomorrow; but if any one should be

so very ill he cannot possible come he must write a very polite note of regrets in the form of good societies to

"I do not think anybody is going to be that sick tomorrow no; and I will find out and report to parents if

anybody would try it and not be. But it is important for the cotillon that we have an even number of so many

couples, and if it should happen that someone comes and her partner has sent her a polite note that he has

genuine reasons why he cannot come, the note must be handed at once to me, so that I arrange some other

partner. Is all understood? Yes. The gentlemen will remember now to allow the ladies plenty of time to reach

their houses and prepare to receive calls. Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your polite attention."

It was nine blocks to the house of Marjorie Jones; but Penrod did it in less than seven minutes from a flying

startsuch was his haste to lay himself and his hand for the cotillon at the feet of one who had so recently

spoken unamiably of him in public. He had not yet learned that the only safe male rebuke to a scornful female

is to stay away from herespecially if that is what she desires. However, he did not wish to rebuke her;

simply and ardently he wished to dance the cotillon with her. Resentment was swallowed up in hope.

The fact that Miss Jones' feeling for him bore a striking resemblance to that of Simon Legree for Uncle Tom,

deterred him not at all. Naturally, he was not wholly unconscious that when he should lay his hand for the

cotillon at her feet it would be her inward desire to step on it; but he believed that if he were first in the field

It was his fond intention to reach her house even in advance of herself, and with grave misgiving he beheld a

large automobile at rest before the sainted gate. Forthwith, a sinking feeling became a portent inside him as

"Well, what shouldn't I be doin' in Marjorie's?" Mr. Levy returned indignantly. "I was inviting her for my

"You can't!" insisted Penrod. "You got to allow them time first. He said the ladies had to be allowed time to

"When?" Penrod demanded, stepping close to his rival threateningly. "I'd like to know when"

"When?" echoed the other with shrill triumph. "When? Why, in mamma's sixtyhorse powder limousine

An impulse in the direction of violence became visible upon the countenance of Penrod.

"I expect you need some wiping down," he began dangerously. "I'll give you sumpthing to remem"

"Oh, you will!" Maurice cried with astonishing truculence, contorting himself into what he may have

For the moment, defiance from such a source was dumfounding. Then, luckily, Penrod recollected something

Perceiving therein not only the alert chauffeur but the magnificent outlines of Mrs. Levy, his enemy's mother,

he manoeuvred his lifted hand so that it seemed he had but meant to scratch his ear.

Maurice mounted to the lap of luxury, and Penrod strolled away with an assumption of careless ease which

was put to a severe strain when, from the rear window of the car, a sudden protuberance in the nature of a

The cotillon loomed dismally before Penrod now; but it was his duty to secure a partner and he set about it

with a dreary heart. The delay occasioned by his fruitless attempt on Marjorie and the altercation with his

enemy at her gate had allowed other ladies ample time to prepare for callersand to receive them. Sadly he

went from house to house, finding that he had been preceded in one after the other. Altogether his hand for

the cotillon was declined eleven times that afternoon on the legitimate ground of previous engagement. This,

with Marjorie, scored off all except five of the seventeen possible partners; and four of the five were also

sealed away from him, as he learned in chance encounters with other boys upon the street.

One lady alone remained; he bowed to the inevitable and entered this lorn damsel's gate at twilight with an air

We are apt to forget that there are actually times of life when too much youth is a handicap. Miss Rennsdale

was beautiful; she danced like a premiere; she had every charm but age. On that account alone had she been

allowed so much time to prepare to receive callers that it was only by the most manful efforts she could keep

A decorous maid conducted the longbelated applicant to her where she sat upon a sofa beside a nursery

The decorous maid's composure vanished at oncelikewise her decorum. She clapped her hand over her

mouth and fled, uttering sounds. The governess, however, set herself to comfort her heartbroken charge, and

presently succeeded in restoring Miss Rennsdale to a semblance of that poise with which a lady receives

callers and accepts invitations to dance cotillons. But she continued to sob at intervals.

Feeling himself at perhaps a disadvantage, Penrod made offer of his hand for the morrow with a little

embarrassment. Following the form prescribed by Professor Bartet, he advanced several paces toward the

"I hope," he said by rote, "you're well, and your parents also in good health. May I have the pleasure of

The wet eyes of Miss Rennsdale searched his countenance without pleasure, and a shudder wrung her small

shoulders; but the governess whispered to her instructively, and she made a great effort.

"I thuthank you fufor your polite invuinvuinvutation; and I ac" Thus far she progressed when

emotion overcame her again. She beat frantically upon the sofa with fists and heels. "Oh, I DID want it to be

"No, no, no!" said the governess, and whispered urgently, whereupon Miss Rennsdale was able to complete

"And I acaccept wuwith pupleasure!" she moaned, and immediately, uttering a loud yell, flung herself

"I thank you for your polite acceptance," he murmured hurriedly; "and I trustI trustI forget. Oh, yesI

trust we shall have a most enjoyable occasion. Pray present my compliments to your parents; and I must now

Concluding these courtly demonstrations with another bow he withdrew in fair order, though thrown into

Next morning Penrod woke in profound depression of spirit, the cotillon ominous before him. He pictured

Marjorie Jones and Maurice, graceful and lighthearted, flitting by him fairylike, loosing silvery laughter

upon him as he engaged in the struggle to keep step with a partner about four years and two feet his junior. It

The foreboding vision remained with him, increasing in vividness, throughout the forenoon. He found

himself unable to fix his mind upon anything else, and, having bent his gloomy footsteps toward the

sawdustbox, after breakfast, presently descended therefrom, abandoning Harold Ramorez where he had left

him the preceding Saturday. Then, as he sat communing silently with wistful Duke, in the storeroom,

It was the habit of Penrod's mother not to throw away anything whatsoever until years of storage conclusively

proved there would never be a use for it; but a recent housecleaning had ejected upon the back porch a great

quantity of bottles and other paraphernalia of medicine, left over from illnesses in the family during a period

of several years. This debris Della, the cook, had collected in a large market basket, adding to it some bottles

of flavouring extracts that had proved unpopular in the household; also, old catsup bottles; a jar or two of

preserves gone bad; various rejected dental liquidsand other things. And she carried the basket out to the

Penrod was at first unaware of what lay before him. Chin on palms, he sat upon the iron rim of a former

aquarium and stared morbidly through the open door at the checkered departing back of Della. It was another

Mr. Samuel Williams, aged eleven, and congenial to Penrod in years, sex, and disposition, appeared in the

doorway, shaking into foam a black liquid within a pint bottle, stoppered by a thumb.

"Drinkin's!" demanded Penrod promptly. This is equivalent to the cry of "Biters" when an apple is shown,

"Down to there!" stipulated Sam, removing his thumb to affix it firmly as a mark upon the side of the bottle a

This rite concluded, the visitor's eye fell upon the basket deposited by Della. He emitted tokens of pleasure.

"No! Partners!" insisted Sam with such conviction that his host yielded; and within ten minutes the drug store

was doing a heavy business with imaginary patrons. Improvising counters with boards and boxes, and setting

forth a very druggishlooking stock from the basket, each of the partners found occupation to his

"Here you are, madam!" said Penrod briskly, offering a vial of Sam's mixing to an invisible matron. "This

will cure your husband in a few minutes. Here's the camphor, mister. Call again! Fifty cents' worth of pills?

"I'll 'tend to it soon's I get time, Jim," replied the prescription clerk. "I'm busy fixin' the smallpox medicine for

Penrod stopped sales to watch this operation. Sam had found an empty pint bottle and, with the pursed lips

and measuring eye of a great chemist, was engaged in filling it from other bottles.

First, he poured into it some of the syrup from the condemned preserves; and a quantity of extinct hair oil;

next the remaining contents of a dozen small vials cryptically labelled with physicians' prescriptions; then

some remnants of catsup and essence of beef and what was left in several bottles of mouthwash; after that a

quantity of rejected flavouring extract topping off by shaking into the mouth of the bottle various powders

from small pink papers, relics of Mr. Schofield's influenza of the preceding winter.

Sam examined the combination with concern, appearing unsatisfied. "We got to make that smallpox medicine

good and strong!" he remarked; and, his artistic sense growing more powerful than his appetite, he poured

"What you doin'?" protested Penrod. "What you want to waste that lickrish water for? We ought to keep it to

"I guess I got a right to use my own lickrish water any way I want to," replied the prescription clerk. "I tell

you, you can't get smallpox medicine too strong. Look at her now!" He held the bottle up admiringly. "She's

"Don't smell so awful much," observed Sam, sniffing the bottle"a good deal, though!"

Sam looked at the bottle thoughtfully; then his eye, wandering, fell upon Duke, placidly curled up near the

door, and lighted with the advent of an idea new to him, but old, old in the worldolder than Egypt!

That was the spark. They acted immediately; and a minute later Duke, released from custody with a

competent potion of the smallpox medicine inside him, settled conclusively their doubts concerning its effect.

The patient animal, accustomed to expect the worst at all times, walked out of the door, shaking his head with

an air of considerable annoyance, opening and closing his mouth with singular energyand so repeatedly

that they began to count the number of times he did it. Sam thought it was thirtynine times, but Penrod had

All things come from Mother Earth and must returnDuke restored much at this time. Afterward, he ate

heartily of grass; and then, over his shoulder, he bent upon his master one inscrutable look and departed

The two boys had watched the process with warm interest. "I told you she was strong!" said Mr. Williams

"Yes, sirshe is!" Penrod was generous enough to admit. "I expect she's strong enough" He paused in

"I bet you she'd fix him if you had!" said Sam. And it may be that this was no idle boast.

The pharmaceutical game was not resumed; the experiment upon Duke had made the drug store

commonplace and stimulated the appetite for stronger meat. Lounging in the doorway, the near

"I bet some of our smallpox medicine would fix ole P'fessor Bartet all right!" quoth Penrod. "I wish he'd

"We could tell him it was lickrish water," added Sam, liking the idea. "The two bottles look almost the same."

"Then we wouldn't have to go to his ole cotillon this afternoon," Penrod sighed. "There wouldn't be any!"

"Me? I wouldn't dance with that girl if she begged me to! I wouldn't dance with her to save her from

"Looky here, Sam," he said confidentially. "I've got 'a mighty nice partner, but my mother don't like her

mother; and so I've been thinking I better not dance with her. I'll tell you what I'll do; I've got a mighty good

"You want to change and you don't even know who mine is!" said Sam, and he made the simple though

precocious deduction: "Yours must be a lala! Well, I invited Mabel Rorebeck, and she wouldn't let me change

if I wanted to. Mabel Rorebeck'd rather dance with me," he continued serenely, "than anybody; and she said

she was awful afraid you'd ast her. But I ain't goin' to dance with Mabel after all, because this morning she

sent me a note about her uncle died last nightand P'fessor Bartet'll have to find me a partner after I get

there. Anyway I bet you haven't got any slingand I bet your partner's Baby Rennsdale!"

"What if she is?" said Penrod. "She's good enough for ME!" This speech held not so much modesty in

solution as intended praise of the lady. Taken literally, however, it was an understatement of the facts and

"Yay!" jeered Mr. Williams, upon whom his friend's hypocrisy was quite wasted. "How can your mother not

like her mother? Baby Rennsdale hasn't got any mother! You and her'll be a sight!"

That was Penrod's own conviction; and with this corroboration of it he grew so spiritless that he could offer

no retort. He slid to a despondent sitting posture upon the door sill and gazed wretchedly upon the ground,

while his companion went to replenish the licorice water at the hydrantenfeebling the potency of the liquor

Sam turned to go, but paused. A new straw hat was peregrinating along the fence near the two boys. This hat

belonged to someone passing upon the sidewalk of the cross street; and the someone was Maurice Levy.

Even as they stared, he halted and regarded them over the fence with two small, dark eyes.

Penrod at that instant had a singular experiencean intellectual shock like a flash of fire in the brain. Sitting

Penrod sprang to his feet, seized the licorice bottle, shook it with stoppering thumb, and took a long drink

"What you doin'?" asked Maurice for the third time, Sam Williams not having decided upon a reply.

"Drinkin' lickrish water," he said simply, and wiped his mouth with such delicious enjoyment that Sam's

"Ask him if he don't want some," Penrod whispered urgently. "Quit drinkin' it! It's no good any more. Ask

"No, I'm not," said Penrod reassuringly. "I won't touch you, M'rice. I made up with you yesterday

Maurice looked undecided. But Penrod had the delectable bottle again, and tilting it above his lips, affected to

let the cool liquid purl enrichingly into him, while with his right hand he stroked his middle facade ineffably.

"Here!" cried Sam, stirred again by the superb manifestations of his friend. "Gimme that!"

Penrod brought the bottle down, surprisingly full after so much gusto, but withheld it from Sam; and the two

scuffled for its possession. Nothing in the world could have so worked upon the desire of the yearning

"Honest, Penrodyou ain't goin' to touch me if I come in your yard?" he called. "Honest?"

"Cross my heart!" answered Penrod, holding the bottle away from Sam. "And we'll let you drink all you

Maurice hastily climbed the fence, and while he was thus occupied Mr. Samuel Williams received a great

enlightenment. With startling rapidity Penrod, standing just outside the storeroom door, extended his arm

within the room, deposited the licorice water upon the counter of the drug store, seized in its stead the bottle

Dazzled, Mr. Samuel Williams leaned against the wall. He had the sensations of one who comes suddenly

into the presence of a chefd'oeuvre. Perhaps his first coherent thought was that almost universal one on such

Sam might have been even more dazzled had he guessed that he figured not altogether as a spectator in the

sweeping and magnificent conception of the new Talleyrand. Sam had no partner for the cotillon. If Maurice

was to be absent from that festivityas it began to seem he might bePenrod needed a male friend to take

care of Miss Rennsdale and he believed he saw his way to compel Mr. Williams to be that male friend. For

this he relied largely upon the prospective conduct of Miss Rennsdale when he should get the matter before

herhe was inclined to believe she would favour the exchange. As for Talleyrand Penrod himself, he was

"Well, if I did say it I didn't mean it!" said Penrod hastily, quoting from one of the authorities. "Looky here,

M'rice," he continued, assuming a more placative and reasoning tone, "that wouldn't be fair to us. I guess we

want some of our own lickrish water, don't we? The bottle ain't much over two thirds full anyway. What I

"Why, this way: you can gulp all you want, so long as you keep swallering; but you can't take the bottle out

"Well, anyway, I mean M'rice has to give the bottle up the minute he stops swallering."

With that, Maurice placed the bottle to his lips and began to drink. Penrod and Sam leaned forward in

breathless excitement. They had feared Maurice might smell the contents of the bottle; but that danger was

pastthis was the crucial moment. Their fondest hope was that he would make his first swallow a voracious

oneit was impossible to imagine a second. They expected one big, gulping swallow and then an explosion,

Little they knew the mettle of their man! Maurice swallowed once; he swallowed twiceand thriceand he

continued to swallow! No Adam's apple was sculptured on that juvenile throat, but the internal progress of

the liquid was not a whit the less visible. His eyes gleamed with cunning and malicious triumph, sidewise, at

the stunned conspirators; he was fulfilling the conditions of the draught, not once breaking the thread of that

His audience stood petrified. Already Maurice had swallowed more than they had given Duke and still the

liquor receded in the uplifted bottle! And now the clear glass gleamed above the dark contents full half the

vessel's lengthand Maurice went on drinking! Slowly the clear glass increased in its dimensions slowly

Sam Williams made a horrified movement to check himbut Maurice protested passionately with his

disengaged arm, and made vehement vocal noises remindful of the contract; whereupon Sam desisted and

Maurice drank it all! He drained the last drop and threw the bottle in the air, uttering loud ejaculations of

"Hah!" he cried, blowing out his cheeks, inflating his chest, squaring his shoulders, patting his stomach, and

"Well, I gotta say this," said Maurice graciously: "You stuck to your bargain all right and treated me fair."

Stricken with a sudden horrible suspicion, Penrod entered the storeroom in one stride and lifted the bottle of

licorice water to his nosethen to his lips. It was weak, but good; he had made no mistake. And Maurice had

really drainedto the dregs the bottle of old hair tonics, dead catsups, syrups of undesirable preserves,

condemned extracts of vanilla and lemon, decayed chocolate, exessence of beef, mixed dental preparations,

aromatic spirits of ammonia, spirits of nitre, alcohol, arnica, quinine, ipecac, sal volatile, nux vomica and

Penrod put the licorice water out of sight and turned to face the others. Maurice was seating himself on a box

"Nobody can see me from here, can they?" he said, striking a match. "You fellers smoke?"

"Well, sir," he remarked, "you fellers are certainly square I gotta say that much. Honest, Penrod, I thought

you was after me! I did think so," he added sunnily; "but now I guess you like me, or else you wouldn't of

He chatted on with complete geniality, smoking his cigarette in content. And as he ran from one topic to

another his hearers stared at him in a kind of torpor. Never once did they exchange a glance with each other;

their eyes were frozen to Maurice. The cheerful conversationalist made it evident that he was not without

"Well," he said as he finished his cigarette and rose to go, "you fellers have treated me nice and some day you

come over to my yard; I'd like to run with you fellers. You're the kind of fellers I like."

"I gotta go," observed Maurice, consulting a handsome watch. "Gotta get dressed for the cotillon right after

"Well, goodbye, Penrod," said Maurice cordially. "I'm glad you like me all right. Come on, Sam."

Penrod leaned against the doorpost and with fixed and glazing eyes watched the departure of his two visitors.

Maurice was talking volubly, with much gesticulation, as they went; but Sam walked mechanically and in

silence, staring at his brisk companion and keeping at a little distance from him.

They passed from sight, Maurice still conversing gayly and Penrod slowly betook himself into the house,

Some three hours later, Mr. Samuel Williams, waxen clean and in sweet raiment, made his reappearance in

Penrod's yard, yodelling a codesignal to summon forth his friend. He yodelled loud, long, and frequently,

"Where are you?" shouted Mr. Williams, his roving glance searching ambient heights. Another lowspirited

yodel reaching his ear, he perceived the head and shoulders of his friend projecting above the roofridge of the

stable. The rest of Penrod's body was concealed from view, reposing upon the opposite slant of the gable and

"You better be careful!" Sam called. "You'll slide off and fall down in the alley if you don't look out. I come

pert' near it last time we was up there. Come on down! Ain't you goin' to the cotillon?"

"Say," he called up in a guarded voice, "I went to our telephone a while ago and ast him how he was feelin',

Sam thrust his hands in his pockets and brooded. The opening of the kitchen door caused a diversion. It was

"Mister Penrod," she bellowed forthwith, "come ahn down fr'm up there! Y'r mamma's at the dancin' class

waitin' fer ye, an' she's telephoned me they're goin' to beginan' what's the matter with ye? Come ahn down

A glittering car spun by, disclosing briefly a genre picture of Marjorie Jones in pink, supporting a monstrous

sheaf of American Beauty roses. Maurice, sitting shining and joyous beside her, saw both boys and waved

Penrod uttered some muffled words and then waved both arms either in response or as an expression of his

condition of mind; it may have been a gesture of despair. How much intention there was in this

actobviously so rash, considering the position he occupiedit is impossible to say. Undeniably there must

The delayed dance was about to begin a most uneven cotillon when Samuel Williams arrived.

Mrs. Schofield hurriedly left the ballroom; while Miss Rennsdale, flushing with sudden happiness, curtsied

"I have telled you fifty times," he informed her passionately ere she spoke, "I cannot make no such changes.

If your partner comes you have to dance with him. You are going to drive me crazy, sure! What is it? What

The damsel curtsied again and handed him the following communication, addressed to herself:

"Dear madam Please excuse me from dancing the cotilon with you this afternoon as I have fell off the barn

Penrod entered the schoolroom, Monday picturesquely leaning upon a man's cane shortened to support a

cripple approaching the age of twelve. He arrived about twenty minutes late, limping deeply, his brave young

mouth drawn with pain, and the sensation he created must have been a solace to him; the only possible

criticism of this entrance being that it was just a shade too heroic. Perhaps for that reason it failed to stagger

Miss Spence, a woman so saturated with suspicion that she penalized Penrod for tardiness as promptly and as

coldly as if he had been a mere, ordinary, unmutilated boy. Nor would she entertain any discussion of the

However, the distinction of cane and limp remained to him, consolations which he protracted far into the

weekuntil Thursday evening, in fact, when Mr. Schofield, observing from a window his son's pursuit of

Duke round and round the backyard, confiscated the cane, with the promise that it should not remain idle if

he saw Penrod limping again. Thus, succeeding a depressing Friday, another Saturday brought the necessity

It was a scented morning in appleblossom time. At about ten of the clock Penrod emerged hastily from the

kitchen door. His pockets bulged abnormally; so did his checks, and he swallowed with difficulty. A

threatening mop, wielded by a cooklike arm in a checkered sleeve, followed him through the doorway, and he

was preceded by a small, hurried, wistful dog with a warm doughnut in his mouth. The kitchen door slammed

petulantly, enclosing the sore voice of Della, whereupon Penrod and Duke seated themselves upon the

From the crossstreet which formed the side boundary of the Schofields' ample yard came a jingle of harness

and the cadenced clatter of a pair of trotting horses, and Penrod, looking up, beheld the passing of a fat

acquaintance, torpid amid the conservative splendours of a rather oldfashioned victoria. This was Roderick

Magsworth Bitts, Junior, a fellow sufferer at the Friday Afternoon Dancing Class, but otherwise not often a

companion: a homesheltered lad, tutored privately and preserved against the coarsening influences of rude

comradeship and miscellaneous information. Heavily overgrown in all physical dimensions, virtuous, and

placid, this cloistered mutton was wholly uninteresting to Penrod Schofield. Nevertheless, Roderick

Magsworth Bitts, Junior, was a personage on account of the importance of the Magsworth Bitts family; and it

was Penrod's destiny to increase Roderick's celebrity far, far beyond its present aristocratic limitations.

The Magsworth Bittses were important because they were impressive; there was no other reason. And they

were impressive because they believed themselves important. The adults of the family were impregnably

formal; they dressed with reticent elegance, and wore the same nose and the same expressionan expression

which indicated that they knew something exquisite and sacred which other people could never know. Other

people, in their presence, were apt to feel mysteriously ignoble and to become secretly uneasy about

ancestors, gloves, and pronunciation. The Magsworth Bitts manner was withholding and reserved, though

sometimes gracious, granting small smiles as great favours and giving off a chilling kind of preciousness.

Naturally, when any citizen of the community did anything unconventional or improper, or made a mistake,

or had a relative who went wrong, that citizen's first and worst fear was that the Magsworth Bittses would

hear of it. In fact, this painful family had for years terrorized the community, though the community had

never realized that it was terrorized, and invariably spoke of the family as the "most charming circle in town."

By common consent, Mrs. Roderick Magsworth Bitts officiated as the supreme model as well as

criticinchief of morals and deportment for all the unlucky people prosperous enough to be elevated to her

Magsworth was the important part of the name. Mrs. Roderick Magsworth Bitts was a Magsworth born,

herself, and the Magsworth crest decorated not only Mrs. Magsworth Bitts' notepaper but was on the china,

on the table linen, on the chimneypieces, on the opaque glass of the front door, on the victoria, and on the

Naturally, no sensible person dreamed of connecting that illustrious crest with the unfortunate and notorious

Rena Magsworth whose name had grown week by week into larger and larger type upon the front pages of

newspapers, owing to the gradually increasing public and official belief that she had poisoned a family of

eight. However, the statement that no sensible person could have connected the Magsworth Bitts family with

Penrod never missed a murder, a hanging or an electrocution in the newspapers; he knew almost as much

about Rena Magsworth as her jurymen did, though they sat in a courtroom two hundred miles away, and he

had it in mindso frank he wasto ask Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, if the murderess happened to be

The present encounter, being merely one of apathetic greeting, did not afford the opportunity. Penrod took off

his cap, and Roderick, seated between his mother and one of his grownup sisters, nodded sluggishly, but

neither Mrs. Magsworth Bitts nor her daughter acknowledged the salutation of the boy in the yard. They

disapproved of him as a person of little consequence, and that little, bad. Snubbed, Penrod thoughtfully

restored his cap to his head. A boy can be cut as effectually as a man, and this one was chilled to a low

temperature. He wondered if they despised him because they had seen a last fragment of doughnut in his

hand; then he thought that perhaps it was Duke who had disgraced him. Duke was certainly no fashionable

The resilient spirits of youth, however, presently revived, and discovering a spider upon one knee and a

beetle simultaneously upon the other, Penrod forgot Mrs. Roderick Magsworth Bitts in the course of some

experiments infringing upon the domain of Doctor Carrel. Penrod's effortswith the aid of a pinto effect a

transference of living organism were unsuccessful; but he convinced himself forever that a spider cannot

walk with a beetle's legs. Della then enhanced zoological interest by depositing upon the back porch a large

Penrod at once took possession, retiring to the empty stable, where he installed the rats in a small wooden

box with a sheet of broken windowglassheld down by a brickbatover the top. Thus the symptoms of

their agitation, when the box was shaken or hammered upon, could be studied at leisure. Altogether this

After a time, the student's attention was withdrawn from his specimens by a peculiar smell, which, being

followed up by a system of selective sniffing, proved to be an emanation leaking into the stable from the

Across the alley was a cottage which a thrifty neighbour had built on the rear line of his lot and rented to

negroes; and the fact that a negro family was now in process of "moving in" was manifested by the presence

of a thin mule and a ramshackle wagon, the latter laden with the semblance of a stove and a few other

A very small darky boy stood near the mule. In his hand was a rusty chain, and at the end of the chain the

delighted Penrod perceived the source of the special smell he was tracing a large raccoon. Duke, who had

shown not the slightest interest in the rats, set up a frantic barking and simulated a ravening assault upon the

strange animal. It was only a bit of acting, however, for Duke was an old dog, had suffered much, and desired

no unnecessary sorrow, wherefore he confined his demonstrations to alarums and excursions, and presently

sat down at a distance and expressed himself by intermittent threatenings in a quavering falsetto.

"What's the matter of you?" he demanded advancing. "You get fresh with ME, and I'll"

"Hyuh, white boy!" A coloured youth of Penrod's own age appeared in the doorway of the cottage. "You let

"Oh," said Penrod, mollified. Then, obeying an impulse so universally aroused in the human breast under like

"I hoe you ackoom aim gommo mame," was the prompt response, in which a slight ostentation was manifest.

"Verman. Was three us boys in ow fam'ly. Ol'est one name Sherman. 'N'en come me; I'm Herman. 'N'en

He pointed to the north with his right hand, and Penrod's eyes opened wide as they followed the gesture.

"HE done 'at," interpreted Herman, chuckling. "Yessuh; done chop 'er spang off, long 'go. He's a playin' wif a

ax an' I lay my finguh on de do'sill an' I say, `Verman, chop 'er off!' So Verman he chop 'er right spang off

"Yessuh, I tole him to," said Herman, "an' he chop 'er off, an' ey ain't airy oth' one evuh grown on wheres de

Both brothers looked pleased and proud. Penrod's profound interest was flatteringly visible, a tribute to their

"Aw ri'," said Herman. "Ow sistuh Queenie, she a growedup woman; she got a goituh."

"Goituh. Swellin' on her neckgrea' big swellin'. She heppin' mammy move in now. You look in de

Penrod looked in the window and was rewarded by a fine view of Queenie's goitre. He had never before seen

one, and only the lure of further conversation on the part of Verman brought him from the window.

"Verman say tell you 'bout pappy," explained Herman. "Mammy an' Queenie move in town an' go git de

"Jail. Pappy cut a man, an' de police done kep' him in jail evuh sense Chris'mustime; but dey goin' tuhn him

Penrod began to feel that a lifetime spent with this fascinating family were all too short. The brothers,

glowing with amiability, were as enraptured as he. For the first time in their lives they moved in the rich

glamour of sensationalism. Herman was prodigal of gesture with his right hand; and Verman, chuckling with

delight, talked fluently, though somewhat consciously. They cheerfully agreed to keep the raccoonalready

beginning to be mentioned as "our 'coon" by Penrodin Mr. Schofield's empty stable, and, when the animal

had been chained to the wall near the box of rats and supplied with a pan of fair water, they assented to their

new friend's suggestion (inspired by a fine sense of the artistic harmonies) that the heretofore nameless pet be

At this juncture was heard from the front yard the sound of that yodelling which is the peculiar

accomplishment of those whose voices have not "changed." Penrod yodelled a response; and Mr. Samuel

"Yay, Penrod!" was his greeting, casual enough from without; but, having entered, he stopped short and

"I guess you better say, `Look at the 'coon!'" Penrod returned proudly. "They's a good deal more'n him to look

"Verman," replied Penrod, having previously received this information from Herman.

"Point to sumpthing, Herman," Penrod commanded, and Sam's excitement, when Herman pointed was

Penrod, the discoverer, continued his exploitation of the manifold wonders of the Sherman, Herman, and

Verman collection. With the air of a proprietor he escorted Sam into the alley for a good look at Queenie

(who seemed not to care for her increasing celebrity) and proceeded to a dramatic climaxthe recital of the

The cumulative effect was enormous, and could have but one possible result. The normal boy is always at

Penrod and Sam both claimed to have said it first, a question left unsettled in the ecstasies of hurried

preparation. The bundle under Sam's arm, brought with no definite purpose, proved to have been an

inspiration. It consisted of broad sheets of light yellow wrappingpaper, discarded by Sam's mother in her

spring housecleaning. There were halffilled cans and buckets of paint in the storeroom adjoining the

carriagehouse, and presently the side wall of the stable flamed information upon the passerby from a great

"Publicity," primal requisite of all theatrical and amphitheatrical enterprise thus provided, subsequent

arrangements proceeded with a fury of energy which transformed the empty hay loft. True, it is impossible

to say just what the hayloft was transformed into, but history warrantably clings to the statement that it was

transformed. Duke and Sherman were secured to the rear wall at a considerable distance from each other,

after an exhibition of reluctance on the part of Duke, during which he displayed a nervous energy and agility

almost miraculous in so small and middleaged a dog. Benches were improvised for spectators; the rats were

brought up; finally the rafters, corn crib, and haychute were ornamented with flags and strips of bunting

from Sam Williams' attic, Sam returning from the excursion wearing an old silk hat, and accompanied (on

account of a rope) by a fine dachshund encountered on the highway. In the matter of personal decoration

paint was generously used: an interpretation of the spiral, inclining to whites and greens, becoming brilliantly

effective upon the dark facial backgrounds of Herman and Verman; while the countenances of Sam and

Penrod were each supplied with the black moustache and imperial, lacking which, no professional showman

It was regretfully decided, in council, that no attempt be made to add Queenie to the list of exhibits, her

brothers warmly declining to act as ambassadors in that cause. They were certain Queenie would not like the

idea, they said, and Herman picturesquely described her activity on occasions when she had been annoyed by

too much attention to her appearance. However, Penrod's disappointment was alleviated by an inspiration

which came to him in a moment of pondering upon the dachshund, and the entire party went forth to add an

They found a group of seven, including two adults, already gathered in the street to read and admire this

SCHoFiELD WiLLiAMS BiG SHOW ADMiSSioN 1 CENT oR 20 PiNS MUSUEM oF CURioSiTES Now

A heated argument took place between Sam and Penrod, the point at issue being settled, finally, by the

drawing of straws; whereupon Penrod, with pardonable selfimportancein the presence of an audience

Sam, Penrod, Herman, and Verman withdrew in considerable state from nonpaying view, and, repairing to

the hayloft, declared the exhibition open to the public. Oral proclamation was made by Sam, and then the

loitering multitude was enticed by the seductive strains of a band; the two partners performing upon combs

The effect was immediate. Visitors appeared upon the stairway and sought admission. Herman and Verman

took position among the exhibits, near the wall; Sam stood at the entrance, officiating as barker and

ticketseller; while Penrod, with debonair suavity, acted as curator, master of ceremonies, and lecturer. He

greeted the first to enter with a courtly bow. They consisted of Miss Rennsdale and her nursery governess,

"Walk in, laydeeze, walk right inpray do not obstruck the passageway," said Penrod, in a remarkable

Miss Rennsdale and governess were followed by Mr. Georgie Bassett and baby sister (which proves the

perfection of Georgie's character) and six or seven other neighbourhood childrena most satisfactory

audience, although, subsequent to Miss Rennsdale and governess, admission was wholly by pin.

"GENtilmun and LAYdeeze," shouted Penrod, "I will first call your attainshon to our genuine South

American dog, part alligator!" He pointed to the dachshund, and added, in his ordinary tone, "That's him."

Straightway reassuming the character of showman, he bellowed: "NEXT, you see Duke, the genuine,

fullblooded Indian dog from the far Western Plains and Rocky Mountains. NEXT, the trained Michigan

rats, captured way up there, and trained to jump and run all around the box at theat theat the slightest

PREtext!" He paused, partly to take breath and partly to enjoy his own surprised discovery that this phrase

"At the slightest PREtext!" he repeated, and continued, suiting the action to the word: "I will now hammer

upon the box and each and all may see these genuine fullblooded Michigan rats perform at the slightest

PREtext! There! (That's all they do now, but I and Sam are goin' to train 'em lots more before this

afternoon.) GENtilmun and LAYdeeze I will kindly now call your attainshon to Sherman, the wild

animal from Africa, costing the lives of the wild trapper and many of his companions. NEXT, let me kindly

interodoos Herman and Verman. Their father got mad and stuck his pitchfork right inside of another man,

exactly as promised upon the advertisements outside the big tent, and got put in jail. Look at them well,

gentilmun and laydeeze, there is no extra charge, and REMEMBUR you are each and all now looking

at two wild, tattooed men which the father of is in jail. Point, Herman. Each and all will have a chance to see.

Point to sumpthing else, Herman. This is the only genuine onefingered tattooed wild man. Last on the

programme, gentilmun and lay deeze, we have Verman, the savage tattooed wild boy, that can't speak

Verman obliged and made an instantaneous hit. He was encored rapturously, again and again; and, thrilling

with the unique pleasure of being appreciated and misunderstood at the same time, would have talked all day

but too gladly. Sam Williams, however, with a true showman's foresight, whispered to Penrod, who rang

"GENtilmun and LAYdeeze, this closes our pufformance. Pray pass out quietly and with as little jostling

as possible. As soon as you are all out there's goin' to be a new pufformance, and each and all are welcome at

the same and simple price of admission. Pray pass out quietly and with as little jostling as possible.

REMEMBUR the price is only one cent, the tenth part of a dime, or twenty pins, no bent ones taken. Pray

pass out quietly and with as little jostling as possible. The Schofield and Williams Military Band will play

before each pufformance, and each and all are welcome for the same and simple price of admission. Pray

Forthwith, the Schofield and Williams Military Band began a second overture, in which something vaguely

like a tune was at times distinguishable; and all of the first audience returned, most of them having occupied

the interval in hasty excursions for more pins; Miss Rennsdale and governess, however, again paying coin of

the Republic and receiving deference and the best seats accordingly. And when a third performance found all

of the same inveterate patrons once more crowding the auditorium, and seven recruits added, the pleasurable

excitement of the partners in their venture will be understood by any one who has seen a metropolitan

manager strolling about the foyer of his theatre some evening during the earlier stages of an assured

From the first, there was no question which feature of the entertainment was the attraction extraordinary:

VermanVerman, the savage tattooed wild boy, speaking only his native foreign languagesVerman was a

triumph! Beaming, wreathed in smiles, melodious, incredibly fluent, he had but to open his lips and a dead

hush fell upon the audience. Breathless, they leaned forward, hanging upon his every semisyllable, and,

when Penrod checked the flow, burst into thunders of applause, which Verman received with happy laughter.

Alas! he delayed not o'er long to display all the egregiousness of a new star; but for a time there was no

caprice of his too eccentric to be forgiven. During Penrod's lecture upon the other curios, the tattooed wild

boy continually stamped his foot, grinned, and gesticulated, tapping his tiny chest, and pointing to himself as

it were to say: "Wait for Me! I am the Big Show." So soon they learn; so soon they learn! And (again alas!)

this spoiled darling of public favour, like many another, was fated to know, in good time, the fickleness of

But during all the morning performances he was the idol of his audience and looked it! The climax of his

popularity came during the fifth overture of the Schofield and Williams Military Band, when the music was

quite drowned in the agitated clamours of Miss Rennsdale, who was endeavouring to ascend the stairs in spite

"I WON'T go home to lunch!" screamed Miss Rennsdale, her voice accompanied by a sound of ripping. "I

WILL hear the tattooed wild boy talk some more! It's lovelyI WILL hear him talk! I WILL! I WILL! I

Wailing, she was borne awayof her sex not the first to be fascinated by obscurity, nor the last to champion

Verman was almost unendurable after this, but, like many, many other managers, Schofield and Williams

restrained their choler, and even laughed fulsomely when their principal attraction essayed the role of a

The first performance of the afternoon rivalled the successes of the morning, and although Miss Rennsdale

was detained at home, thus drying up the single source of cash income developed before lunch, Maurice Levy

appeared, escorting Marjorie Jones, and paid coin for two admissions, dropping the money into Sam's hand

with a carelessnay, a contemptuousgesture. At sight of Marjorie, Penrod Schofield flushed under his

new moustache (repainted since noon) and lectured as he had never lectured before. A new grace invested his

every gesture; a new sonorousness rang in his voice; a simple and manly pomposity marked his very walk as

he passed from curio to curio. And when he fearlessly handled the box of rats and hammered upon it with

cool insouciance, he beheldfor the first time in his lifea purl of admiration eddying in Marjorie's lovely

eye, a certain softening of that eye. And then Verman spake and Penrod was forgotten. Marjorie's eye rested

A heavily equipped chauffeur ascended the stairway, bearing the message that Mrs. Levy awaited her son and

his lady. Thereupon, having devoured the last sound permitted (by the managers) to issue from Verman, Mr.

Levy and Miss Jones departed to a real matinee at a real theatre, the limpid eyes of Marjorie looking back

softly over her shoulderbut only at the tattooed wild boy. Nearly always it is woman who puts the irony

After this, perhaps because of sated curiosity, perhaps on account of a pin famine, the attendance began to

languish. Only four responded to the next call of the band; the four dwindled to three; finally the

entertainment was given for one blase auditor, and Schofield and Williams looked depressed. Then followed

About three o'clock Schofield and Williams were gloomily discussing various unpromising devices for

startling the public into a renewal of interest, when another patron unexpectedly appeared and paid a cent for

his admission. News of the Big Show and Museum of Curiosities had at last penetrated the far, cold spaces of

interstellar niceness, for this new patron consisted of no less than Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, escaped

in a white "sailor suit" from the Manor during a period of severe maternal and tutorial preoccupation.

He seated himself without parley, and the pufformance was offered for his entertainment with admirable

conscientiousness. True to the Lady Clara caste and training, Roderick's pale, fat face expressed nothing

except an impervious superiority and, as he sat, cold and unimpressed upon the front bench, like a large,

white lump, it must be said that he made a discouraging audience "to play to." He was not, however,

unresponsivefar from it. He offered comment very chilling to the warm grandiloquence of the orator.

"That's my uncle Ethelbert's dachshund," he remarked, at the beginning of the lecture. "You better take him

back if you don't want to get arrested." And when Penrod, rather uneasily ignoring the interruption,

proceeded to the exploitation of the genuine, fullblooded Indian dog, Duke, "Why don't you try to give that

"My papa would buy me a lots better 'coon than that," was the information volunteered a little later, "only I

Herman of the missing finger obtained no greater indulgence. "Pooh!" said Roderick. "We have two

foxterriers in our stables that took prizes at the kennel show, and their tails were BIT off. There's a man that

Verman, confident in his own singular powers, chuckled openly at the failure of the other attractions to charm

the frosty visitor, and, when his turn came, poured forth a torrent of conversation which was straightway

"Rotten," said Mr. Bitts languidly. "Anybody could talk like that. _I_ could do it if I wanted to."

So challenged, the visitor did try, but, in the absence of an impartial jury, his effort was considered so

pronounced a failure that he was howled down, derided, and mocked with great clamours.

"Anyway," said Roderick, when things had quieted down, "if I couldn't get up a better show than this I'd sell

Not having enough presence of mind to inquire what he would sell out, his adversaries replied with mere

"Well, what would you have in your ole show?" asked Penrod, condescending to language.

"Well, what WOULD you have?" insisted Penrod derisively. "You'd have to have SUMPTHINGyou

"How do YOU know?" This was but meandering while waiting for ideas, and evoked another yell.

"I could, too!" Roderick raised his voice to a sudden howl, obtaining a hearing.

"Well, _I_ know HOW, all right," said Roderick. "If anybody asks you, you can just tell him I know HOW,

"Why, you can't DO anything," Sam began argumentatively. "You talk about being a show all by yourself;

"I didn't say I was going to DO anything," returned the badgered one, still evading.

"Well, then, how'd you BE a show?" Penrod demanded. "WE got a show here, even if Herman didn't point or

Verman didn't talk. Their father stabbed a man with a pitchfork, I guess, didn't he?"

"Well, then," continued Penrod, "how could you be a" He stopped abruptly, staring at Roderick, the

birth of an idea plainly visible in his altered expression. He had suddenly remembered his intention to ask

Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, about Rena Magsworth, and this recollection collided in his mind with the

irritation produced by Roderick's claiming some mysterious attainment which would warrant his setting up as

"Roddy," he asked, almost overwhelmed by a prescience of something vast and magnificent, "Roddy, are you

Roderick had never heard of Rena Magsworth, although a concentration of the sentence yesterday

pronounced upon her had burned, black and horrific, upon the face of every newspaper in the country. He

was not allowed to read the journals of the day and his family's indignation over the sacrilegious coincidence

of the name had not been expressed in his presence. But he saw that it was an awesome name to Penrod

Schofield and Samuel Williams. Even Herman and Verman, though lacking many educational advantages on

account of a long residence in the country, were informed on the subject of Rena Magsworth through hearsay,

There is no obsession more dangerous to its victims than a conviction especially an inherited oneof

superiority: this world is so full of Missourians. And from his earliest years Roderick Magsworth Bitts,

Junior, had been trained to believe in the importance of the Magsworth family. At every meal he absorbed a

sense of Magsworth greatness, and yet, in his infrequent meetings with persons of his own age and sex, he

was treated as negligible. Now, dimly, he perceived that there was a Magsworth claim of some sort which

was impressive, even to boys. Magsworth blood was the essential of all true distinction in the world, he

knew. Consequently, having been driven into a culdesac, as a result of flagrant and unfounded boasting, he

"Roddy," said Penrod again, with solemnity, "is Rena Magsworth some relation of yours?"

Silence followed. Sam and Penrod, spellbound, gazed upon Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior. So did

Herman and Verman. Roddy's staggering lie had changed the face of things utterly. No one questioned it; no

"Roddy," said Penrod, in a voice tremulous with hope, "Roddy, will you join our show?"

Even he could see that the offer implied his being starred as the paramount attraction of a new order of things.

It was obvious that he had swelled out suddenly, in the estimation of the other boys, to that importance which

he had been taught to believe his native gift and natural right. The sensation was pleasant. He had often been

treated with effusion by grown up callers and by acquaintances of his mothers and sisters; he had heard

ladies speak of him as "charming" and "that delightful child," and little girls had sometimes shown him

deference, but until this moment no boy had ever allowed him, for one moment, to presume even to equality.

Now, in a trice, he was not only admitted to comradeship, but patently valued as something rare and sacred to

be acclaimed and pedestalled. In fact, the very first thing that Schofield and Williams did was to find a box

The misgivings roused in Roderick's bosom by the subsequent activities of the firm were not bothersome

enough to make him forego his prominence as Exhibit A. He was not a "quickminded" boy, and it was long

(and much happened) before he thoroughly comprehended the causes of his new celebrity. He had a shadowy

feeling that if the affair came to be heard of at home it might not be liked, but, intoxicated by the glamour and

bustle which surround a public character, he made no protest. On the contrary, he entered wholeheartedly

into the preparations for the new show. Assuming, with Sam's assistance, a blue moustache and "sideburns,"

he helped in the painting of a new poster, which, supplanting the old one on the wall of the stable facing the

crossstreet, screamed bloody murder at the passers in that rather populous thoroughfare.

Megaphones were constructed out of heavy wrappingpaper, and Penrod, Sam, and Herman set out in

different directions, delivering vocally the inflammatory proclamation of the poster to a large section of the

residential quarter, and leaving Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, with Verman in the loft, shielded from all

deadhead eyes. Upon the return of the heralds, the Schofield and Williams Military Band played deafeningly,

Prosperity smiled again. The very first audience after the acquisition of Roderick was larger than the largest

of the morning. Master Bittsthe only exhibit placed upon a boxwas a supercurio. All eyes fastened upon

But the glory of one light must ever be the dimming of another. We dwell in a vale of seesawsand

cobwebs spin fastest upon laurel. Verman, the tattooed wild boy, speaking only in his native foreign

languages, Verman the gay, Verman the caperer, capered no more; he chuckled no more, he beckoned no

more, nor tapped his chest, nor wreathed his idolatrous face in smiles. Gone, all gone, were his little artifices

for attracting the general attention to himself; gone was every engaging mannerism which had endeared him

to the mercurial public. He squatted against the wall and glowered at the new sensation. It was the old

storythe old, old story of too much temperament: Verman was suffering from artistic jealousy.

The second audience contained a cashpaying adult, a spectacled young man whose poignant attention was

very flattering. He remained after the lecture, and put a few questions to Roddy, which were answered rather

confusedly upon promptings from Penrod. The young man went away without having stated the object of his

interrogations, but it became quite plain, later in the day. This same object caused the spectacled young man

to make several brief but stimulating calls directly after leaving the Schofield and Williams Big Show, and

The Big Show was at high tide. Not only was the auditorium filled and throbbing; there was an indubitable

lineby no means wholly juvenilewaiting for admission to the next pufformance. A group stood in the

street examining the poster earnestly as it glowed in the long, slanting rays of the westward sun, and people in

automobiles and other vehicles had halted wheel in the street to read the message so piquantly given to the

world. These were the conditions when a crested victoria arrived at a gallop, and a large, chastely magnificent

and highly flushed woman descended, and progressed across the yard with an air of violence.

At sight of her, the adults of the waiting line hastily disappeared, and most of the pausing vehicles moved

The stairs to the auditorium were narrow and steep; Mrs. Roderick Magsworth Bitts was of a stout favour;

"REMEMBUR, gentilmun and laydeeze, each and all are now gazing upon Roderick Magsworth Bitts,

Junior, the only living nephew of the great Rena Magsworth. She stuck ars'nic in the milk of eight separate

and distinck people to put in their coffee and each and all of 'em died. The great ars'nic murderess, Rena

Magsworth, gentilmun and laydeeze, and Roddy's her only living nephew. She's a relation of all the Bitts

family, but he's her one and only living nephew. REMEMBUR! Next July she's goin' to be hung, and, each

Penrod paused abruptly, seeing something before himselfthe august and awful presence which filled the

Before HERSELF, Mrs. Roderick Magsworth Bitts saw her sonher scionwearing a moustache and

sideburns of blue, and perched upon a box flanked by Sherman and Verman, the Michigan rats, the Indian

Roddy, also, saw something before himself. It needed no prophet to read the countenance of the dread

apparition in the entryway. His mouth openedremained openthen filled to capacity with a calamitous

Penrod's reason staggered under the crisis. For a horrible moment he saw Mrs. Roderick Magsworth Bitts

approaching like some fatal mountain in avalanche. She seemed to grow larger and redder; lightnings played

about her head; he had a vague consciousness of the audience spraying out in flight, of the squealings,

He stood by the open mouth of the haychute which went through the floor to the manger below. Penrod also

went through the floor. He propelled himself into the chute and shot down, but not quite to the manger, for

Mr. Samuel Williams had thoughtfully stepped into the chute a moment in advance of his partner. Penrod lit

Catastrophic noises resounded in the loft; volcanoes seemed to romp upon the stairway.

There ensued a period when only a shrill keening marked the passing of Roderick as he was borne to the

. . . Sunset, striking through a western window, rouged the walls of the Schofields' library, where gathered a

joint family council and court martial of fourMrs. Schofield, Mr. Schofield, and Mr. and Mrs. Williams,

parents of Samuel of that ilk. Mr. Williams read aloud a conspicuous passage from the last edition of the

"Prominent people here believed close relations of woman sentenced to hang. Angry denial by Mrs. R.

Magsworth Bitts. Relationship admitted by younger member of family. His statement confirmed by

"Don't!" said Mrs. Williams, addressing her husband vehemently. "We've all read it a dozen times. We've got

Singularly enough, Mrs. Williams did not look troubled; she looked as if she were trying to look troubled.

Mrs. Schofield wore a similar expression. So did Mr. Schofield. So did Mr. Williams.

"What did she say when she called YOU up?" Mrs. Schofield inquired breathlessly of Mrs. Williams.

"She could hardly speak at first, and then when she did talk, she talked so fast I couldn't understand most of

"It was just the same when she tried to talk to me," said Mrs. Schofield, nodding.

"I never did hear any one in such a state before," continued Mrs. Williams. "So furious"

"Of course. And she said Penrod and Sam had enticed Roderick away from homeusually he's not allowed

to go outside the yard except with his tutor or a servantand had told him to say that horrible creature was

"How in the world do you suppose Sam and Penrod ever thought of such a thing as THAT!" exclaimed Mrs.

Schofield. "It must have been made up just for their `show.' Della says there were just STREAMS going in

and out all day. Of course it wouldn't have happened, but this was the day Margaret and I spend every month

"She said one thing I thought rather tactless," interrupted Mrs. Williams. "Of course we must allow for her

being dreadfully excited and wrought up, but I do think it wasn't quite delicate in her, and she's usually the

very soul of delicacy. She said that Roderick had NEVER been allowed to associate with common

"She said that the most awful thing about it," Mrs. Williams went on, "was that, though she's going to

"Yes, I imagine they will," said Mrs. Schofield musingly. "Of course you and I and everybody who really

knows the Bitts and Magsworth families understand the perfect absurdity of it; but I suppose there are ever so

"Hundreds and hundreds!" said Mrs. Williams. "I'm afraid it will be a great comedown for them."

"I'm afraid so," said Mrs. Schofield gently. "A very great oneyes, a very, very great one."

"Well," observed Mrs. Williams, after a thoughtful pause, "there's only one thing to be done, and I suppose it

Thus, in the early twilight, the now historic stable was approached by two fathers charged to do the only thing

But by means of a ladder, brought from the carriagehouse, Mr. Schofield mounted to the top of the

sawdustbox. He looked within, and discerned the dim outlines of three quiet figures, the third being that of a

The two boys rose, upon command, descended the ladder after Mr. Schofield, bringing Duke with them, and

stood before the authors of their being, who bent upon them sinister and threatening brows. With hanging

heads and despondent countenances, each still ornamented with a moustache and an imperial, Penrod and

This is a boy's lot: anything he does, anything whatever, may afterward turn out to have been a crimehe

Sam marched, not looking back, and his father followed the small figure implacably.

About fifteen minutes later, Penrod, hurriedly entering the corner drug store, two blocks distant, was

Boyhood is the longest time in life for a boy. The last term of the schoolyear is made of decades, not of

weeks, and living through them is like waiting for the millennium. But they do pass, somehow, and at last

there came a day when Penrod was one of a group that capered out from the gravelled yard of "Ward School,

Nomber Seventh," carolling a leavetaking of the institution, of their instructress, and not even forgetting Mr.

Penrod sang the loudest. For every boy, there is an age when he "finds his voice." Penrod's had not

"changed," but he had found it. Inevitably that thing had come upon his family and the neighbours; and his

father, a somewhat dyspeptic man, quoted frequently the expressive words of the "Lady of Shalott," but there

Vacationtime warmed the young of the world to pleasant languor; and a morning came that was like a

brightly coloured picture in a child's fairy story. Miss Margaret Schofield, reclining in a hammock upon the

front porch, was beautiful in the eyes of a newly made senior, well favoured and in fair raiment, beside her. A

guitar rested lightly upon his knee, and he was trying to playa matter of some difficulty, as the floor of the

porch also seemed inclined to be musical. From directly under his feet came a voice of song, shrill, loud,

incredibly piercing and incredibly flat, dwelling upon each syllable with incomprehensible reluctance to leave

"I have lands and earthly powwur. I'd give all for a nowwur, Whiilst setting at MYYY dear old

"It's Penrod," she explained. "The lattice at the end of the porch is loose, and he crawls under and comes out

all bugs. He's been having a dreadful singing fit latelyrunning away to picture shows and vaudeville, I

Mr. Robert Williams looked upon her yearningly. He touched a thrilling chord on his guitar and leaned

"Sooo remmembur, whiiilst you're young, That the dayays to you will come, When you're

"You DID say you'd missed me," said Mr. Robert Williams, seizing hurriedly upon the silence. "Didn't you

"Oh, you talk about your fascinating beauties, Of your demOzells, your belles, But the littil dame I met,

while in the city, She's par excellaws the queen of all the swells. She's sweeter far"

Margaret rose and jumped up and down repeatedly in a well calculated area, whereupon the voice of Penrod

cried chokedly, "QUIT that!" and there were subterranean coughings and sneezings.

"You want to choke a person to death?" he inquired severely, appearing at the end of the porch, a cobweb

upon his brow. And, continuing, he put into practice a newly acquired phrase, "You better learn to be more

Slowly and grievedly he withdrew, passed to the sunny side of the house, reclined in the warm grass beside

"She's sweeter far than the flower I named her after, And the memery of her smile it haunts me YET! When

in after years the moon is soffly beamun' And at eve I smell the smell of mignonette I will reCALL

"Stop it!" he commanded. "Can't I stay home with a headache ONE morning from the office without having

to listen toI never DID hear such squawking!" He retired from the window, having too impulsively called

upon his Maker. Penrod, shocked and injured, entered the house, but presently his voice was again audible as

far as the front porch. He was holding converse with his mother, somewhere in the interior.

"Well, what of it? Sam Williams told me his mother said if Bob ever did think of getting married to Margaret,

The next minute Penrod opened it. "I suppose you want the whole family to get a sunstroke," he said

The serious poetry of all languages has omitted the little brother; and yet he is one of the great trials of

lovethe immemorial burden of courtship. Tragedy should have found place for him, but he has been left to

the haphazard vignettist of Grub Street. He is the grave and real menace of lovers; his head is sacred and

terrible, his power illimitable. There is one way only oneto deal with him; but Robert Williams, having

Enslaved forever, the new Rockefeller rose and went forth upon the highway, an overflowing heart bursting

"In her eyes the light of love was soffly gleamun', So sweetlay, So neatlay. On the banks the moon's soff light

was brightly streamun', Words of love I then spoke TO her. She was purest of the PEWer: `Littil sweetheart,

do not sigh, Do not weep and do not cry. I will build a littil cottige just for yewEWEW and I.'"

In fairness, it must be called to mind that boys older than Penrod have these wellings of pent melody; a wife

can never tell when she is to undergo a musical morning, and even the golden wedding brings her no security,

Invalids murmured pitifully as Penrod came within hearing; and people trying to think cursed the day that

they were born, when he went shrilling by. His hands in his pockets, his shining face uplifted to the sky of

June, he passed down the street, singing his way into the heart's deepest hatred of all who heard him.

"One evuning I was sturowling Midst the city of the DEAD, I viewed where all around me Their

He had reached his journey's end, a junkdealer's shop wherein lay the longdesired treasure of his soulan

accordion which might have possessed a high quality of interest for an antiquarian, being unquestionably a

ruin, beautiful in decay, and quite beyond the sacrilegious reach of the restorer. But it was still able to

disgorge soundsloud, strange, compelling sounds, which could be heard for a remarkable distance in all

directions; and it had one rich calflike tone that had gone to Penrod's heart. He obtained the instrument for

twentytwo cents, a price long since agreed upon with the junkdealer, who falsely claimed a loss of profit,

With this purchase suspended from his shoulder by a faded green cord, Penrod set out in a somewhat

homeward direction, but not by the route he had just travelled, though his motive for the change was not

humanitarian. It was his desire to display himself thus troubadouring to the gaze of Marjorie Jones. Heralding

his advance by continuous experiments in the music of the future, he pranced upon his blithesome way, the

faithful Duke at his heels. (It was easier for Duke than it would have been for a younger dog, because, with

Turning the corner nearest to the glamoured mansion of the Joneses, the boy jongleur came suddenly face to

face with Marjorie, and, in the delicious surprise of the encounter, ceased to play, his hands, in agitation,

Bareheaded, the sunshine glorious upon her amber curls, Marjorie was strolling handinhand with her baby

brother, Mitchell, four years old. She wore pink that dayunforgettable pink, with a broad, black

patentleather belt, shimmering reflections dancing upon its surface. How beautiful she was! How sacred the

sweet little baby brother, whose privilege it was to cling to that small hand, delicately powdered with

"Hello!" said Marjorie, with unexpected cordiality. She bent over her baby brother with motherly

affectations. "Say `howdy' to the gentymuns, MitchyMitch," she urged sweetly, turning him to face Penrod.

"WON'T!" said MitchyMitch, and, to emphasize his refusal, kicked the gentymuns upon the shin.

Penrod's feelings underwent instant change, and in the sole occupation of disliking MitchyMitch, he wasted

precious seconds which might have been better employed in philosophic consideration of the startling

example, just afforded, of how a given law operates throughout the universe in precisely the same manner

"Oh, oh!" Marjorie cried, and put MitchyMitch behind her with too much sweetness. "Maurice Levy's gone

to Atlantic City with his mamma," she remarked conversationally, as if the kicking incident were quite

"That's nothin'," returned Penrod, keeping his eye uneasily upon MitchyMitch. "I know plenty people been

There was unconscious ingratitude in his low rating of Atlantic City, for it was largely to the attractions of

Of course, too, she was curious about the accordion. It would be dastardly to hint that she had noticed a paper

bag which bulged the pocket of Penrod's coat, and yet this bag was undeniably conspicuous"and children

Penrod brought forth the bag, purchased on the way at a drug store, and till this moment UNOPENED, which

expresses in a word the depth of his sentiment for Marjorie. It contained an abundant fifteencents' worth of

lemon drops, jawbreakers, licorice sticks, cinnamon drops, and shopworn choclate creams.

"Oh, that's nothin'," he returned airily. "I got a good deal of money, nowadays."

"Ohjust around." With a cautious gesture he offered a jaw breaker to MitchyMitch, who snatched it

"Can you play on that?" asked Marjorie, with some difficulty, her cheeks being rather too hilly for

This was what he had come for. He threw back his head, lifted his eyes dreamily, as he had seen real

musicians lift theirs, and distended the accordion preparing to produce the wonderful calflike noise which

"Ow! Owowaoh! Wowohah! WaowWOW!" shrieked MitchyMitch and the accordion together.

MitchyMitch, to emphasize his disapproval of the accordion, opening his mouth still wider, lost therefrom

the jawbreaker, which rolled in the dust. Weeping, he stooped to retrieve it, and Marjorie, to prevent him,

hastily set her foot upon it. Penrod offered another jawbreaker; but MitchyMitch struck it from his hand,

Marjorie moved inadvertently; whereupon MitchyMitch pounced upon the remains of his jawbreaker and

restored them, with accretions, to his mouth. His sister, uttering a cry of horror, sprang to the rescue, assisted

by Penrod, whom she prevailed upon to hold MitchyMitch's mouth open while she excavated. This

operation being completed, and Penrod's right thumb severely bitten, MitchyMitch closed his eyes tightly,

stamped, squealed, bellowed, wrung his hands, and then, unexpectedly, kicked Penrod again.

Penrod put a hand in his pocket and drew forth a copper twocent piece, large, round, and fairly bright.

MitchyMitch immediately stopped crying and gazed upon his benefactor with the eyes of a dog.

Thereafter did Penrodwith complete approval from Mitchy Mitchplay the accordion for his lady to his

heart's content, and hers. Never had he so won upon her; never had she let him feel so close to her before.

They strolled up and down upon the sidewalk, eating, one thought between them, and soon she had learned to

play the accordion almost as well as he. So passed a happy hour, which the Good King Rene of Anjou would

have envied them, while MitchyMitch made friends with Duke, romped about his sister and her swain, and

clung to the hand of the latter, at intervals, with fondest affection and trust.

The noon whistles failed to disturb this little Arcady; only the sound of Mrs. Jones' voice for the third time

Penrod looked blank, as she intended he should. Having thus satisfied herself, she added:

"MARJORIE JONES!" (This was a voice from home.) "HOW MANY MORE TIMES SHALL I HAVE TO

At the gate, she turned quickly toward him, and said over her shoulder, all in a breath: "Yes! Come again

And she ran into the house, MitchyMitch waving a loving hand to the boy on the sidewalk until the front

Penrod went home in splendour, pretending that he and Duke were a long procession; and he made enough

noise to render the auricular part of the illusion perfect. His own family were already at the lunchtable when

"Oh SOMETHING!" shouted Mr. Schofield, clasping his bilious brow with both hands. "Stop that noise! Isn't

it awful enough for you to SING? Sit DOWN! Not with that thing on! Take that green rope off your shoulder!

Now take that thing out of the diningroom and throw it in the ashcan! Where did you get it?"

"Where did I get what, papa?" asked Penrod meekly, depositing the accordion in the hall just outside the

"It's a 'cordian," said Penrod, taking his place at the table, and noticing that both Margaret and Mr. Robert

"I don't care what you call it," said Mr. Schofield irritably. "I want to know where you got it."

She very slightly shook her head. Penrod sent Mr. Williams a grateful look, and might have been startled if

he could have seen himself in a mirror at that moment; for he regarded MitchyMitch with concealed but

"A man gave it to me," he answered gently, and was rewarded by the visibly regained ease of his patron's

manner, while Margaret leaned back in her chair and looked at her brother with real devotion.

"Sir?" In spite of the candy which he had consumed in company with Marjorie and MitchyMitch, Penrod

"Well, I was just walking along, and the man came up to meit was right down in front of Colgate's, where

"That will do," said Mr. Schofield, rising. "I suppose every family has its secret enemies and this was one of

With that, he went out crossly, stopping in the hall a moment before passing beyond hearing. And, after

lunch, Penrod sought in vain for his accordion; he even searched the library where his father sat reading,

though, upon inquiry, Penrod explained that he was looking for a misplaced schoolbook. He thought he ought

to study a little every day, he said, even during vacationtime. Much pleased, Mr. Schofield rose and joined

the search, finding the missing work on mathematics with singular easewhich cost him precisely the price

Penrod departed to study in the backyard. There, after a cautious survey of the neighbourhood, he managed to

dislodge the iron cover of the cistern, and dropped the arithmetic within. A fine splash rewarded his listening

ear. Thus assured that when he looked for that book again no one would find it for him, he replaced the cover,

and betook himself pensively to the highway, discouraging Duke from following by repeated volleys of

Distant strains of brazen horns and the throbbing of drums were borne to him upon the kind breeze,

reminding him that the world was made for joy, and that the Barzee and Potter Dog and Pony Show was

exhibiting in a banlieue not far away. So, thither he bent his stepsthe plentiful funds in his pocket burning

hot holes all the way. He had paid twentytwo cents for the accordion, and fifteen for candy; he had bought

the mercenary heart of MitchyMitch for two: it certainly follows that there remained to him of his dollar,

Arrived upon the populous and festive scene of the Dog and Pony Show, he first turned his attention to the

brightly decorated booths which surrounded the tent. The cries of the peanut vendors, of the popcorn men, of

the toyballoon sellers, the stirring music of the band, playing before the performance to attract a crowd, the

shouting of excited children and the barking of the dogs within the tent, all sounded exhilaratingly in Penrod's

ears and set his blood atingle. Nevertheless, he did not squander his money or fling it to the winds in one

grand splurge. Instead, he began cautiously with the purchase of an extraordinarily large pickle, which he

obtained from an aged negress for his odd cent, too obvious a bargain to be missed. At an adjacent stand he

bought a glass of raspberry lemonade (so alleged) and sipped it as he ate the pickle. He left nothing of either.

Next, he entered a small restauranttent and for a modest nickel was supplied with a fork and a box of

sardines, previously opened, it is true, but more than half full. He consumed the sardines utterly, but left the

tin box and the fork, after which he indulged in an inexpensive halfpint of lukewarm cider, at one of the

open booths. Mug in hand, a gentle glow radiating toward his surface from various centres of activity deep

inside him, he paused for breathand the cool, sweet cadences of the watermelon man fell delectably upon

"Icecole WATERmelon; icecole waterMELON; the biggest slice of ICEcole, ripe, red, ICEcole, rich

an' rare; the biggest slice of icecole watermelon ever cut by the hand of man! BUY our ICEcole

Penrod, having drained the last drop of cider, complied with the watermelon man's luscious entreaty, and

received a round slice of the fruit, magnificent in circumference and something over an inch in thickness.

Leaving only the really dangerous part of the rind behind him, he wandered away from the vicinity of the

watermelon man and supplied himself with a bag of peanuts, which, with the expenditure of a dime for

admission, left a quarter still warm in his pocket. However, he managed to "break" the coin at a stand inside

the tent, where a large, oblong paper box of popcorn was handed him, with twenty cents change. The box was

too large to go into his pocket, but, having seated himself among some wistful Polack children, he placed it in

his lap and devoured the contents at leisure during the performance. The popcorn was heavily larded with

partially boiled molasses, and Penrod sandwiched mouthfuls of peanuts with gobs of this mass until the

peanuts were all gone. After that, he ate with less avidity; a sense almost of satiety beginning to manifest

itself to him, and it was not until the close of the performance that he disposed of the last morsel.

He descended a little heavily to the outflowing crowd in the arena, and bought a caterwauling toy balloon, but

showed no great enthusiasm in manipulating it. Near the exit, as he came out, was a hotwaffle stand which

he had overlooked, and a sense of duty obliged him to consume the three waffles, thickly powdered with

They left a hottish taste in his mouth; they had not been quite up to his anticipation, indeed, and it was with a

sense of relief that he turned to the "hokeypokey" cart which stood close at hand, laden with square slabs of

"Neapolitan icecream" wrapped in paper. He thought the icecream would be cooling, but somehow it fell

He walked away, too languid to blow his balloon, and passed a freshtaffy booth with strange indifference. A

barearmed man was manipulating the taffy over a hook, pulling a great white mass to the desired stage of

"candying," but Penrod did not pause to watch the operation; in fact, he averted his eyes (which were slightly

glazed) in passing. He did not analyze his motives: simply, he was conscious that he preferred not to look at

For some reason, he put a considerable distance between himself and the taffystand, but before long halted

in the presence of a redfaced man who flourished a long fork over a small cooking apparatus and shouted

jovially: "Winnies! HERE'S your hot winnies! Hot winnyWURST! Food for the overworked brain,

nourishing for the weak stummick, entertaining for the tired business man! HERE'S your hot winnies, three

This, above all nectar and ambrosia, was the favourite dish of Penrod Schofield. Nothing inside him now

craved iton the contrary! But memory is the great hypnotist; his mind argued against his inwards that

opportunity knocked at his door: "winny wurst" was rigidly forbidden by the home authorities. Besides,

there was a last nickel in his pocket; and nature protested against its survival. Also, the redfaced man had

He ate two of the three greasy, cigarlike shapes cordially pressed upon him in return. The first bite convinced

him that he had made a mistake; these winnies seemed of a very inferior flavour, almost unpleasant, in fact.

But he felt obliged to conceal his poor opinion of them, for fear of offending the red faced man. He ate

without haste or eagernessso slowly, indeed, that he began to think the redfaced man might dislike him, as

a deterrent of trade. Perhaps Penrod's mind was not working well, for he failed to remember that no law

compelled him to remain under the eye of the redfaced man, but the virulent repulsion excited by his

attempt to take a bite of the third sausage inspired him with at least an excuse for postponement.

"Mighty good," he murmured feebly, placing the sausage in the pocket of his jacket with a shaking hand.

He moved sluggishly away, wishing he had not thought of dinner. A sideshow, undiscovered until now,

failed to arouse his interest, not even exciting a wish that he had known of its existence when he had money.

For a time he stared without attraction; the weatherworn colours conveying no meaning to comprehension at

a huge canvas poster depicting the chief his torpid eye. Then, little by little, the poster became more vivid to

his consciousness. There was a greenishtinted person in the tent, it seemed, who thrived upon a reptilian

"Indeed, doctor," said Mrs. Schofield, with agitation and profound conviction, just after eight o'clock that

evening, "I shall ALWAYS believe in mustard plastersmustard plasters and hotwater bags. If it hadn't

"Margaret," called Mr. Schofield from the open door of a bedroom, "Margaret, where did you put that

But he had to find the aromatic spirits of ammonia himself, for Margaret was not in the house. She stood in

the shadow beneath a maple tree near the street corner, a guitar case in her hand; and she scanned with

anxiety a briskly approaching figure. The arc light, swinging above, revealed this figure as that of him she

awaited. He was passing toward the gate without seeing her, when she arrested him with a fateful whisper.

"Here, take your guitar," she whispered hurriedly. "I was afraid if father happened to find it he'd break it all to

"Oh, Bob," she moaned, "I was waiting here to tell you. I was so afraid you'd try to come in"

"Yes, before I warned you. I've been waiting here to tell you, Bob, you mustn't come near the house if I were

you I'd stay away from even this neighbourhoodfar away! For a while I don't think it would be actually

"It's all on account of that dollar you gave Penrod this morning," she walled. "First, he bought that horrible

"Oh, wait!" she cried lamentably. "Listen! He didn't tell at lunch, but he got home about dinnertime in the

mostwell! I've seen pale people before, but nothing like Penrod. Nobody could IMAGINE itnot unless

they'd seen him! And he looked, so STRANGE, and kept making such unnatural faces, and at first all he

would say was that he'd eaten a little piece of apple and thought it must have some microbes on it. But he got

sicker and sicker, and we put him to bedand then we all thought he was going to dieand, of COURSE,

no little piece of apple would havewell, and he kept getting worse and then he said he'd had a dollar. He

said he'd spent it for the concertina, and watermelon, and chocolatecreams, and licorice sticks, and lemon

drops, and peanuts, and jawbreakers, and sardines, and raspberry lemonade, and pickles, and popcorn, and

icecream, and cider, and sausagethere was sausage in his pocket, and mamma says his jacket is

ruinedand cinnamon dropsand wafflesand he ate four or five lobster croquettes at lunchand papa

said, `Who gave you that dollar?' Only he didn't say `WHO'he said something horrible, Bob! And Penrod

thought he was going to die, and he said you gave it to him, and oh! it was just pitiful to hear the poor child,

Bob, because he thought he was dying, you see, and he blamed you for the whole thing. He said if you'd only

let him alone and not given it to him, he'd have grown up to be a good manand now he couldn't! I never

heard anything so heartrendinghe was so weak he could hardly whisper, but he kept trying to talk, telling

In the darkness Mr. Williams' facial expression could not be seen, but his voice sounded hopeful.

"They say the crisis is past," said Margaret, "but the doctor's still up there. He said it was the acutest case of

indigestion he had ever treated in the whole course of his professional practice."

"I've never seen papa and mamma so upset about anything," she said, rather primly.

"We ARE all very much upset," returned Margaret, more starch in her tone as she remembered not only

"Robert," she said firmly and, also, with a rhetorical complexity which breeds a suspicion of

prerehearsal"Robert, for the present I can only look at it in one way: when you gave that money to

Penrod you put into the hands of an unthinking little child a weapon which might be, and, indeed was, the

"Robert!" she checked him with increasing severity. "I am only a woman and not accustomed to thinking

everything out on the spur of the moment; but I cannot change my mind. Not now, at least."

"I have not used the word `blame,'" she interrupted. "But I must insist that for your carelessness toto wreak

such havoc cannot fail toto lessen my confidence in your powers of judgment. I cannot change my

convictions in this matternot to nightand I cannot remain here another instant. The poor child may

With chill dignity she withdrew, entered the house, and returned to the sickroom, leaving the young man in

That sincere invalid became convalescent upon the third day; and a week elapsed, then, before he found an

opportunity to leave the house unaccompaniedsave by Duke. But at last he set forth and approached the

Jones neighbourhood in high spirits, pleasantly conscious of his pallor, hollow cheeks, and other perquisites

One thought troubled him a little because it gave him a sense of inferiority to a rival. He believed, against his

will, that Maurice Levy could have successfully eaten chocolatecreams, licorice sticks, lemondrops,

jawbreakers, peanuts, waffles, lobster croquettes, sardines, cinnamondrops, watermelon, pickles, popcorn,

icecream and sausage with raspberry lemonade and cider. Penrod had admitted to himself that Maurice

could do it and afterward attend to business, or pleasure, without the slightest discomfort; and this was

probably no more than a fair estimate of one of the great constitutions of all time. As a digester, Maurice

Fortunately, Maurice was still at Atlantic Cityand now the convalescent's heart leaped. In the distance he

saw Marjorie comingin pink again, with a ravishing little parasol over her head. And alone! No

Penrod increased the feebleness of his steps, now and then leaning upon the fence as if for support.

"How do you do, Marjorie?" he said, in his best sickroom voice, as she came near.

To his pained amazement, she proceeded on her way, her nose at a celebrated elevationan icy nose.

"Marjorie," he pleaded, "what's the matter? Are you mad? Honest, that day you said to come back next

morning, and you'd be on the corner, I was sick. Honest, I was AWFUL sick, Marjorie! I had to have the

"I guess WE'VE had to have the doctor enough at OUR house, thanks to you, Mister Penrod Schofield. Papa

says you haven't got NEAR sense enough to come in out of the rain, after what you did to poor little

"Yes, and he's sick in bed YET!" Marjorie went on, with unabated fury. "And papa says if he ever catches

"You know well enough what you did to MitchyMitch!" she cried. "You gave him that great, big, nasty

In his embittered heart there was increasing a critical disapproval of the Creator's methods. When He made

pretty girls, thought Penrod, why couldn't He have left out their little brothers!

For several days after this, Penrod thought of growing up to be a monk, and engaged in good works so far as

to carry some kittens (that otherwise would have been drowned) and a pair of Margaret's outworn

dancingslippers to a poor, ungrateful old man sojourning in a shed up the alley. And although Mr. Robert

Williams, after a very short interval, began to leave his guitar on the front porch again, exactly as if he

thought nothing had happened, Penrod, with his younger vision of a father's mood, remained coldly distant

from the Jones neighbourhood. With his own family his manner was gentle, proud and sad, but not for long

enough to frighten them. The change came with mystifying abruptness at the end of the week.

Duke could chase a much bigger dog out of the Schofields' yard and far down the street. This might be

thought to indicate unusual valour on the part of Duke and cowardice on that of the bigger dogs whom he

undoubtedly put to rout. On the contrary, all such flights were founded in mere superstition, for dogs are even

more superstitious than boys and coloured people; and the most firmly established of all dog superstitions is

that any dogbe he the smallest and feeblest in the worldcan whip any trespasser whatsoever.

A ratterrier believes that on his home grounds he can whip an elephant. It follows, of course, that a big dog,

away from his own home, will run from a little dog in the little dog's neighbourhood. Otherwise, the big dog

must face a charge of inconsistency, and dogs are as consistent as they are superstitious. A dog believes in

war, but he is convinced that there are times when it is moral to run; and the thoughtful physiognomist,

seeing a big dog fleeing out of a little dog's yard, must observe that the expression of the big dog's face is

more conscientious than alarmed: it is the expression of a person performing a duty to himself.

Penrod understood these matters perfectly; he knew that the gaunt brown hound Duke chased up the alley had

fled only out of deference to a custom, yet Penrod could not refrain from bragging of Duke to the hound's

owner, a fatfaced stranger of twelve or thirteen, who had wandered into the neighbourhood.

"You better keep that ole yellow dog o' yours back," said Penrod ominously, as he climbed the fence. "You

better catch him and hold him till I get mine inside the yard again. Duke's chewed up some pretty bad

The fatfaced boy gave Penrod a fishy stare. "You'd oughta learn him not to do that," he said. "It'll make him

The stranger laughed raspingly and gazed up the alley, where the hound, having come to a halt, now coolly

sat down, and, with an expression of roguish benevolence, patronizingly watched the tempered fury of Duke,

This was not improvisation but formula, adapted from other occasions to the present encounter; nevertheless,

it was new to Penrod, and he was so taken with it that resentment lost itself in admiration. Hastily committing

the gem to memory for use upon a dogowning friend, he inquired in a sociable tone:

Dan's actions poorly supported his master's assertion, for, upon Duke's ceasing to bark, Dan rose and showed

the most courteous interest in making the little, old dog's acquaintance. Dan had a great deal of manner, and it

became plain that Duke was impressed favourably in spite of former prejudice, so that presently the two

trotted amicably back to their masters and sat down with the harmonious but indifferent air of having known

They were received without comment, though both boys looked at them reflectively for a time. It was Penrod

"What number you go to?" (In an "oral lesson in English," Penrod had been instructed to put this question in

"Me? What number do I go to?" said the stranger, contemptuously. "I don't go to NO number in vacation!"

"What of?" innocently asked Penrod, to whom "the Third"in a distant part of townwas undiscovered

"What of? I guess you'd soon see what of, if you ever was in that school about one day. You'd be lucky if you

The other boy frowned with bitter scorn. "Teachers! Teachers don't order ME around, I can tell you! They're

"Who is he?" echoed the fatfaced boy incredulously. "Say, ain't you got ANY sense?"

"Yees." Penrod's answer, like the look he lifted to the impressive stranger, was meek and placative. "Rupe

The other yelled with jeering laughter, and mocked Penrod's manner and voice. "`Rupe Collins is the

principal at your school, I guess!'" He laughed harshly again, then suddenly showed truculence. "Say, 'bo,

whyn't you learn enough to go in the house when it rains? What's the matter of you, anyhow?"

"Well," urged Penrod timidly, "nobody ever TOLD me who Rupe Collins is: I got a RIGHT to think he's the

"Oh!" Penrod was humiliated but relieved: he felt that he had proved himself criminally ignorant, yet a peril

seemed to have passed. "Rupe Collins is your name, then, I guess. I kind of thought it was, all the time."

The fatfaced boy still appeared embittered, burlesquing this speech in a hateful falsetto. "`Rupe Collins is

YOUR name, then, I guess!' Oh, you `kind of thought it was, all the time,' did you?" Suddenly concentrating

his brow into a histrionic scowl he thrust his face within an inch of Penrod's. "Yes, sonny, Rupe Collins is my

name, and you better look out what you say when he's around or you'll get in big trouble! YOU

Penrod was cowed but fascinated: he felt that there was something dangerous and dashing about this

"Then I reckon your father and mother ain't got good sense," said Mr. Collins promptly, this also being

"'Cause if they had they'd of give you a good name!" And the agreeable youth instantly rewarded himself for

the wit with another yell of rasping laughter, after which he pointed suddenly at Penrod's right hand.

"There!" exclaimed Rupe Collins, seizing and vigorously twisting the wartless finger naively offered for his

"Say your prayers!" commanded Rupe, and continued to twist the luckless finger until Penrod writhed to his

At this Rupe's scornful expression altered to one of contrition. "Well, I declare!" he exclaimed remorsefully.

"I didn't s'pose it would hurt. Turn about's fair play; so now you do that to me."

He extended the middle finger of his left hand and Penrod promptly seized it, but did not twist it, for he was

instantly swung round with his back to his amiable new acquaintance: Rupe's right hand operated upon the

"Lick dirt," commanded Rupe, forcing the captive's face to the sidewalk; and the suffering Penrod completed

"You'd last jest about one day up at the Third!" he said. "You'd come runnin' home, yellin' `MOMMUH,

"Looky here," said the fatfaced boy, darkly, "what you mean, counterdicking me?"

"You better look out!" Rupe moved closer, and unexpectedly grasped the back of Penrod's neck again. "Say,

"There!" said Rupe, giving the helpless nape a final squeeze. "That's the way we do up at the Third."

"See here now," said Rupe, in the tone of one goaded beyond all endurance, "YOU say if I can! You better

"I knew you could," Penrod interposed hastily, with the pathetic semblance of a laugh. "I only said that in

"Well, I SAID I wasn't in earnest!" Penrod retreated a few steps. "_I_ knew you could, all the time. I expect

"You BETTER `expect not.' Didn't I tell you once you'd never get back alive if you ever tried to come up

He began a slow and deadly advance, whereupon Penrod timidly offered a diversion:

"Say, Rupe, I got a box of rats in our stable under a glass cover, so you can watch 'em jump around when you

"All right," said the fatfaced boy, slightly mollified. "We'll let Dan kill 'em."

"No, SIR! I'm goin' to keep 'em. They're kind of pets; I've had 'em all summerI got names for em,

"WHAT won't you?" Rupe became sinister immediately. "It seems to me you're gettin' pretty fresh around

Mr. Collins once more brought into play the dreadful eyeto eye scowl as practised "up at the Third," and,

sometimes, also by young leading men upon the stage. Frowning appallingly, and thrusting forward his

underlip, he placed his nose almost in contact with the nose of Penrod, whose eyes naturally became crossed.

"Dan kills the rats. See?" hissed the fatfaced boy, maintaining the horrible juxtaposition.

"Well, all right," said Penrod, swallowing. "I don't want 'em much." And when the pose had been relaxed, he

stared at his new friend for a moment, almost with reverence. Then he brightened.

"Come on, Rupe!" he cried enthusiastically, as he climbed the fence. "We'll give our dogs a little live

At the dinnertable, that evening, Penrod Surprised his family by remarking, in a voice they had never heard

"What?" asked Mr. Schofield, staring, for the previous conversation had concerned the illness of an infant

Mr. Schofield shook his head, dismissing the subject; and here he made a mistake: he should have followed

up his son's singular contribution to the conversation. That would have revealed the fact that there was a

certain Rupe Collins whose father was a foreman at the ladder works. All clues are important when a boy

Penrod turned upon her a stern glance. "Say, wouldn't you be just as happy if you had SOME sense?"

"Penrod!" shouted his father. But Penrod's mother gazed with dismay at her son: he had never before spoken

Mrs. Schofield might have been more dismayed than she was, if she had realized that it was the beginning of

an epoch. After dinner, Penrod was slightly scalded in the back as the result of telling Della, the cook, that

there was a wart on the middle finger of her right hand. Della thus proving poor material for his new manner

to work upon, he approached Duke, in the backyard, and, bending double, seized the lowly animal by the

"I let you know my name's Penrod Schofield," hissed the boy. He protruded his underlip ferociously,

scowled, and thrust forward his head until his nose touched the dog's. "And you better look out when Penrod

The next day, and the next, the increasing change in Penrod puzzled and distressed his family, who had no

How might they guess that heroworship takes such forms? They were vaguely conscious that a rather

shabby boy, not of the neighbourhood, came to "play" with Penrod several times; but they failed to connect

this circumstance with the peculiar behaviour of the son of the house, whose ideals (his father remarked)

Meanwhile, for Penrod himself, "life had taken on new meaning, new richness." He had become a fighting

manin conversation at least. "Do you want to know how I do when they try to slip up on me from behind?"

he asked Della. And he enacted for her unappreciative eye a scene of fistic manoeuvres wherein he held an

Frequently, when he was alone, he would outwit, and pummel this same enemy, and, after a cunning feint,

land a dolorous stroke full upon a face of air. "There! I guess you'll know better next time. That's the way we

Sometimes, in solitary pantomime, he encountered more than one opponent at a time, for numbers were apt to

come upon him treacherously, especially at a little after his rising hour, when he might be caught at a

disadvantageperhaps standing on one leg to encase the other in his knickerbockers. Like lightning, he

would hurl the trapping garment from him, and, ducking and pivoting, deal great sweeping blows among the

circle of sneaking devils. (That was how he broke the clock in his bedroom.) And while these battles were

occupying his attention, it was a waste of voice to call him to breakfast, though if his mother, losing patience,

came to his room, she would find him seated on the bed pulling at a stocking. "Well, ain't I coming fast as I

At the table and about the house generally he was bumptious, loud with fatuous misinformation, and assumed

a domineering tone, which neither satire nor reproof seemed able to reduce: but it was among his own

intimates that his new superiority was most outrageous. He twisted the fingers and squeezed the necks of all

the boys of the neighbourhood, meeting their indignation with a hoarse and rasping laugh he had acquired

after short practice in the stable, where he jeered and taunted the lawnmower, the gardenscythe and the

Likewise he bragged to the other boys by the hour, Rupe Collins being the chief subject of encomiumnext

to Penrod himself. "That's the way we do up at the Third," became staple explanation of violence, for Penrod,

like Tartarin, was plastic in the hands of his own imagination, and at times convinced himself that he really

was one of those dark and murderous spirits exclusively of whom "the Third" was composedaccording to

Then, when Penrod had exhausted himself repeating to nausea accounts of the prowess of himself and his

great friend, he would turn to two other subjects for vainglory. These were his father and Duke.

Mothers must accept the fact that between babyhood and manhood their sons do not boast of them. The boy,

with boys, is a Choctaw; and either the influence or the protection of women is shameful. "Your mother won't

let you," is an insult. But, "My father won't let me," is a dignified explanation and cannot be hooted. A boy is

ruined among his fellows if he talks much of his mother or sisters; and he must recognize it as his duty to

offer at least the appearance of persecution to all things ranked as female, such as cats and every species of

fowl. But he must champion his father and his dog, and, ever, ready to pit either against any challenger, must

Penrod, of course, had always talked by the code, but, under the new stimulus, Duke was represented

virtually as a cross between Bob, Son of Battle, and a South American vampire; and this in spite of the fact

that Duke himself often sat close by, a living lie, with the hope of peace in his heart. As for Penrod's father,

that gladiator was painted as of sentiments and dimensions suitable to a superdemon composed of equal

Even Penrod's walk was affected; he adopted a gait which was a kind of taunting swagger; and, when he

passed other children on the street, he practised the habit of feinting a blow; then, as the victim dodged, he

rasped the triumphant horse laugh which he gradually mastered to horrible perfection. He did this to Marjorie

Jonesay! this was their next meeting, and such is Eros, young! What was even worse, in Marjorie's

opinion, he went on his way without explanation, and left her standing on the corner talking about it, long

Within five days from his first encounter with Rupe Collins, Penrod had become unbearable. He even almost

alienated Sam Williams, who for a time submitted to finger twisting and neck squeezing and the new style of

conversation, but finally declared that Penrod made him "sick." He made the statement with fervour, one

sultry afternoon, in Mr. Schofield's stable, in the presence of Herman and Verman.

"You better look out, 'bo," said Penrod, threateningly. "I'll show you a little how we do up at the Third."

"Looky here!" Penrod, darkly argumentative, prepared to perform the eyetoeye business. "When haven't I

"You haven't NEVER been up there!" In spite of Penrod's closely approaching nose Sam maintained his

"WHAT!" Penrod transferred his nose to the immediate vicinity of Herman's nose. "You don't reckon so, 'bo,

don't you? You better look out how you reckon around here! YOU UNDERSTAN' THAT, 'BO?"

Herman bore the eyetoeye very well; indeed, it seemed to please him, for he continued to laugh while

Verman chuckled delightedly. The brothers had been in the country picking berries for a week, and it

happened that this was their first experience of the new manifestation of Penrod.

Penrod clutched him by the back of the neck, but Herman, laughing loudly, ducked and released himself at

"Don' git mad," begged the small darky, while a number of blows falling upon his warding arms failed to

abate his amusement, and a sound one upon the cheek only made him laugh the more unrestrainedly. He

behaved exactly as if Penrod were tickling him, and his brother, Verman, rolled with joy in a wheelbarrow.

"There!" he panted, desisting finally. "NOW I reckon you know whether I been up there or not!"

Herman rubbed his smitten cheek. "Pow!" he exclaimed. "Pow ee! You cert'ny did lan' me good one NAT

"You'll get hurt worse'n that," Penrod assured him, "if you stay around here much. Rupe Collins is comin' this

afternoon, he said. We're goin' to make some policemen's billies out of the rake handle."

"Melt lead and pour in a hole we're goin' to make in the end of 'em. Then we're goin' to carry 'em in our

pockets, and if anybody says anything to usOH, oh! look out! They won't get a crack on the headOH,

"When's Rupe Collins coming?" Sam Williams inquired rather uneasily. He had heard a great deal too much

of this personage, but as yet the pleasure of actual acquaintance had been denied him.

"He's liable to be here any time," answered Penrod. "You better look out. You'll be lucky if you get home

"You are, too!" (There was some truth in the retort.) "There ain't any boy in this part of town but me that

wouldn't be afraid of him. You'd be afraid to talk to him. You wouldn't get a word out of your mouth before

old Rupie'd have you where you'd wished you never come around HIM, lettin' on like you was so much!

"`Who Rupe Collins?'" Penrod mocked, and used his rasping laugh, but, instead of showing fright, Herman

appeared to think he was meant to laugh, too; and so he did, echoed by Verman. "You just hang around here a

little while longer," Penrod added, grimly, "and you'll find out who Rupe Collins is, and I pity YOU when

At this moment a brown hound ran into the stable through the alley door, wagged a greeting to Penrod, and

fraternized with Duke. The fatfaced boy appeared upon the threshold and gazed coldly about the little

company in the carriagehouse, whereupon the coloured brethren, ceasing from merriment, were instantly

impassive, and Sam Williams moved a little nearer the door leading into the yard.

Obviously, Sam regarded the newcomer as a redoubtable if not ominous figure. He was a head taller than

either Sam or Penrod; head and shoulders taller than Herman, who was short for his age; and Verman could

hardly be used for purposes of comparison at all, being a mere squat brown spot, not yet quite nine years on

this planet. And to Sam's mind, the aspect of Mr. Collins realized Penrod's portentous foreshadowings. Upon

the fat face there was an expression of truculent intolerance which had been cultivated by careful habit to

such perfection that Sam's heart sank at sight of it. A somewhat enfeebled twin to this expression had of late

often decorated the visage of Penrod, and appeared upon that ingenuous surface now, as he advanced to

The host swaggered toward the door with a great deal of shoulder movement, carelessly feinting a slap at

Verman in passing, and creating by various means the atmosphere of a man who has contemptuously amused

"Who you callin' 'bo?" was the ungracious response, accompanied by immediate action of a similar nature.

Rupe held Penrod's head in the crook of an elbow and massaged his temples with a hardpressing knuckle.

"I was only in fun, Rupie," pleaded the sufferer, and then, being set free, "Come here, Sam," he said.

Penrod laughed pityingly. "Pshaw, I ain't goin' to hurt you. Come on." Sam, maintaining his position near the

"Watch me, Rupie!" Penrod called, and performed upon Sam the knuckle operation which he had himself just

undergone, Sam submitting mechanically, his eyes fixed with increasing uneasiness upon Rupe Collins. Sam

had a premonition that something even more painful than Penrod's knuckle was going to be inflicted upon

"Puh! It didn't hurt me, did it, Rupie? Come on in, Rupe: show this baby where he's got a wart on his finger."

"You showed me that trick," Sam objected. "You already did that to me. You tried it twice this afternoon and

I don't know how many times before, only you weren't strong enough after the first time. Anyway, I know

At this bidding, Rupe approached, while Sam, still protesting, moved to the threshold of the outer door; but

Thereupon was Penrod's treachery to an old comrade properly rewarded, for as the two struggled, Rupe

caught each by the back of the neck, simultaneously, and, with creditable impartiality, forced both boys to

"Lick dirt!" he commanded, forcing them still forward, until their faces were close to the stable floor.

At this moment he received a real surprise. With a loud whack something struck the back of his head, and,

turning, he beheld Verman in the act of lifting a piece of lath to strike again.

"Don' call me nig," said Herman. "I mine my own biznuss. You let 'em boys alone."

Rupe strode across the still prostrate Sam, stepped upon Penrod, and, equipping his countenance with the

"Nig, you'll be lucky if you leave here alive!" And he leaned forward till his nose was within less than an inch

It could be felt that something awful was about to happen, and Penrod, as he rose from the floor, suffered an

unexpected twinge of apprehension and remorse: he hoped that Rupe wouldn't REALLY hurt Herman. A

sudden dislike of Rupe and Rupe's ways rose within him, as he looked at the big boy overwhelming the little

darky with that ferocious scowl. Penrod, all at once, felt sorry about something indefinable; and, with equal

vagueness, he felt foolish. "Come on, Rupe," he suggested, feebly, "let Herman go, and let's us make our

The rake handle, however, was not available, if Rupe had inclined to favour the suggestion. Verman had

discarded his lath for the rake, which he was at this moment lifting in the air.

"You ole black nigger," the fatfaced boy said venomously to Herman, "I'm agoin' to"

Penrod's familiar nose had been as close with only a ticklish spinal effect upon the not very remote

descendant of Congo man eaters. The result produced by the glare of Rupe's unfamiliar eyes, and by the

dreadfully suggestive proximity of Rupe's unfamiliar nose, was altogether different. Herman's and Verman's

Bangala greatgrandfathers never considered people of their own jungle neighbourhood proper material for a

meal, but they looked upon strangers especially truculent strangersas distinctly edible.

Penrod and Sam heard Rupe suddenly squawk and bellow; saw him writhe and twist and fling out his arms

like flails, though without removing his face from its juxtaposition; indeed, for a moment, the two heads

How neat and pure is the task of the chronicler who has the tale to tell of a "good rousing fight" between boys

or men who fight in the "good old English way," according to a model set for fights in books long before

Tom Brown went to Rugby. There are seconds and rounds and rules of fairplay, and always there is great

good feeling in the endthough sometimes, to vary the model, "the Butcher" defeats the heroand the

chronicler who stencils this fine old pattern on his page is certain of applause as the stirrer of "red blood."

But when Herman and Verman set to 't the record must be no more than a few fragments left by the

expurgator. It has been perhaps sufficiently suggested that the altercation in Mr. Schofield's stable opened

with mayhem in respect to the aggressor's nose. Expressing vocally his indignation and the extremity of his

pained surprise, Mr. Collins stepped backward, holding his left hand over his nose, and striking at Herman

Verman struck from behind. He struck as hard as he could. And he struck with the tines downFor, in his

simple, direct African way he wished to kill his enemy, and he wished to kill him as soon as possible. That

On this account, Rupe Collins was peculiarly unfortunate. He was plucky and he enjoyed conflict, but neither

his ambitions nor his anticipations had ever included murder. He had not learned that an habitually aggressive

person runs the danger of colliding with beings in one of those lower stages of evolution wherein theories

The rake glanced from the back of Rupe's head to his shoulder, but it felled him. Both darkies jumped full

upon him instantly, and the three rolled and twisted upon the stable floor, unloosing upon the air sincere

maledictions closely connected with complaints of cruel and unusual treatment; while certain expressions of

feeling presently emanating from Herman and Verman indicated that Rupe Collins, in this extremity, was

proving himself not too slavishly addicted to fighting by rule. Dan and Duke, mistaking all for mirth, barked

From the panting, pounding, yelling heap issued words and phrases hitherto quite unknown to Penrod and

Sam; also, a hoarse repetition in the voice of Rupe concerning his ear left it not to be doubted that additional

mayhem was taking place. Appalled, the two spectators retreated to the doorway nearest the yard, where they

The struggle increased in primitive simplicity: time and again the howling Rupe got to his knees only to go

down again as the earnest brothers, in their own way, assisted him to a more reclining position. Primal forces

operated here, and the two blanched, slightly higher products of evolution, Sam and Penrod, no more thought

At last, out of the ruck rose Verman, disfigured and maniacal. With a wild eye he looked about him for his

trusty rake; but Penrod, in horror, had long since thrown the rake out into the yard. Naturally, it had not

The frantic eye of Verman fell upon the lawnmower, and instantly he leaped to its handle. Shrilling a

wordless warcry, he charged, propelling the whirling, deafening knives straight upon the prone legs of Rupe

Collins. The lawnmower was sincerely intended to pass longitudinally over the body of Mr. Collins from

heel to head; and it was the time for a deathsong. Black Valkyrie hovered in the shrieking air.

They touched and lacerated the shin of Rupe, as, with the supreme agony of effort a creature in mortal peril

puts forth before succumbing, he tore himself free of Herman and got upon his feet.

Herman was up as quickly. He leaped to the wall and seized the gardenscythe that hung there.

Rupe Collins had never run from anybody (except his father) in his life; he was not a coward; but the present

situation was very, very unusual. He was already in a badly dismantled condition, and yet Herman and

Verman seemed discontented with their work: Verman was swinging the grasscutter about for a new charge,

apparently still wishing to mow him, and Herman had made a quite plausible statement about what he

Rupe paused but for an extremely condensed survey of the horrible advance of the brothers, and then, uttering

a bloodcurdled scream of fear, ran out of the stable and up the alley at a speed he had never before attained,

so that even Dan had hard work to keep within barking distance. And a 'crossshoulder glance, at the corner,

revealing Verman and Herman in pursuit, the latter waving his scythe overhead, Mr. Collins slackened not his

gait, but, rather, out of great anguish, increased it; the while a rapidly developing purpose became firm in his

mindand ever after so remainednot only to refrain from visiting that neighbourhood again, but never by

From the alley door, Penrod and Sam watched the flight, and were without words. When the pursuit rounded

the corner, the two looked wanly at each other, but neither spoke until the return of the brothers from the

"Nev' did see boy run so fas'!" Herman continued, tossing the scythe into the wheelbarrow. "I bet he home in

Verman roared with delight, appearing to be wholly unconscious that the lids of his right eye were swollen

shut and that his attire, not too finical before the struggle, now entitled him to unquestioned rank as a

sansculotte. Herman was a similar ruin, and gave as little heed to his condition.

Penrod looked dazedly from Herman to Verman and back again. So did Sam Williams.

"Herman," said Penrod, in a weak voice, "you wouldn't HONEST of cut his gizzard out, would you?"

"Who? Me? I don' know. He mighty mean ole boy!" Herman shook his head gravely, and then, observing that

Verman was again convulsed with unctuous merriment, joined laughter with his brother. "Sho'! I guess I uz

dess TALKIN' whens I said 'at! Reckon he thought I meant it, f'm de way he tuck an' run. Hiyi! Reckon he

thought ole Herman bad man! No, suh! I uz dess talkin', 'cause I nev' would cut NObody! I ain' tryin' git in no

Penrod looked at the scythe: he looked at Herman. He looked at the lawnmower, and he looked at Verman.

Giggling reminiscently, the brothers disappeared leaving silence behind them in the carriagehouse. Penrod

and Sam retired slowly into the shadowy interior, each glancing, now and then, with a preoccupied air, at the

open, empty doorway where the late afternoon sunshine was growing ruddy. At intervals one or the other

scraped the floor reflectively with the side of his shoe. Finally, still without either having made any effort at

"Well," said Sam, at last, "I guess it's time I better be gettin' home. So long, Penrod!"

With a solemn gaze he watched his friend out of sight. Then he went slowly into the house, and after an

interval occupied in a unique manner, appeared in the library, holding a pair of brilliantly gleaming shoes in

Mr. Schofield, reading the evening paper, glanced frowningly over it at his offspring.

"Look, papa," said Penrod. "I found your shoes where you'd taken 'em off in your room, to put on your

slippers, and they were all dusty. So I took 'em out on the back porch and gave 'em a good blacking. They

The midsummer sun was stinging hot outside the little barbershop next to the corner drug store and Penrod,

undergoing a toilette preliminary to his very slowly approaching twelfth birthday, was adhesive enough to

retain upon his face much hair as it fell from the shears. There is a mystery here: the tonsorial processes are

not unagreeable to manhood; in truth, they are soothing; but the hairs detached from a boy's head get into his

eyes, his ears, his nose, his mouth, and down his neck, and he does everywhere itch excruciatingly.

Wherefore he blinks, winks, weeps, twitches, condenses his countenance, and squirms; and perchance the

"OohUH!" The boy in the chair offered inarticulate protest, as the wound was rubbed with alum.

"THAT don't hurt!" said the barber. "You WILL get it, though, if you don't sit stiller," he continued, nipping

in the bud any attempt on the part of his patient to think that he already had "it."

"Pfuff!" said Penrod, meaning no disrespect, but endeavoring to dislodge a temporary moustache from his lip.

"You ought to see how still that little Georgie Bassett sits," the barber went on, reprovingly. "I hear

"I haven't heard nobody around the neighbourhood makin' no such remarks," added the barber, "about

"Well," said Penrod, clearing his mouth after a struggle, "who wants 'em to? Ouch!"

"I hear they call Georgie Bassett the `little gentleman,'" ventured the barber, provocatively, meeting with

"They better not call ME that," returned Penrod truculently. "I'd like to hear anybody try. Just once, that's all!

"It's all right what I'd DO! I bet they wouldn't want to call me that again long as they lived!"

"You wouldn't hit a little girl, would you?" the barber persisted, gathering into his powerful fingers a mop of

hair from the top of Penrod's head and pulling that suffering head into an unnatural position. "Doesn't the

"So you'd go and punch a pore, weak, little girl, would you?" said the barber, reprovingly.

"Well, who said I'd hit her?" demanded the chivalrous Penrod. "I bet I'd FIX her though, all right. She'd see!"

"Is that SO!" exclaimed the barber. "Then you was intending what I heard you hollering at Fisher's grocery

delivery wagon driver fer a favour, the other day when I was goin' by your house, was you? I reckon I better

tell him, because he says to me afterWERDS if he ever lays eyes on you when you ain't in your own yard,

he's goin' to do a whole lot o' things you ain't goin' to like! Yessir, that's what he says to ME!"

"Well," resumed the barber, "that ain't sayin' what you'd do if a young lady ever walked up and called you a

little gentleman. _I_ want to hear what you'd do to her. I guess I know, thoughcome to think of it."

"You'd sick that pore ole dog of yours on her cat, if she had one, I expect," guessed the barber derisively.

"Well, suppose it was a boy, then: what'd you do if a boy come up to you and says, `Hello, little gentleman'?"

"Just let him try," said Penrod ominously. "You just let him try. He'd never see daylight again; that's all!"

The barber dug ten active fingers into the helpless scalp before him and did his best to displace it, while the

anguished Penrod, becoming instantly a seething crucible of emotion, misdirected his natural resentment into

maddened brooding upon what he would do to a boy "twice his size" who should dare to call him "little

gentleman." The barber shook him as his father had never shaken him; the barber buffeted him, rocked him

frantically to and fro; the barber seemed to be trying to wring his neck; and Penrod saw himself in staggering

zigzag pictures, destroying large, screaming, fragmentary boys who had insulted him.

The torture stopped suddenly; and clenched, weeping eyes began to see again, while the barber applied

"Now what," asked the barber, combing the reeking locks gently, "what would it make you so mad fer, to

have somebody call you a little gentleman? It's a kind of compliment, as it were, you might say. What would

To the mind of Penrod, this question was without meaning or reasonableness. It was within neither his power

nor his desire to analyze the process by which the phrase had become offensive to him, and was now rapidly

assuming the proportions of an outrage. He knew only that his gorge rose at the thought of it.

"You just let 'em try it!" he said threateningly, as he slid down from the chair. And as he went out of the door,

after further conversation on the same subject, he called back those warning words once more: "Just let 'em

The barber chuckled. Then a fly lit on the barber's nose and he slapped at it, and the slap missed the fly but

did not miss the nose. The barber was irritated. At this moment his birdlike eye gleamed a gleam as it fell

upon customers approaching: the prettiest little girl in the world, leading by the hand her baby brother,

It was a hot day and idle, with little to feed the mindand the barber was a mischievous man with an

Meanwhile, the brooding Penrod pursued his homeward way; no great distance, but long enough for several

onesided conflicts with malign insulters made of thin air. "You better NOT call me that!" he muttered. "You

just try it, and you'll get what other people got when THEY tried it. You better not ack fresh with ME! Oh,

you WILL, will you?" He delivered a vicious kick full upon the shins of an iron fencepost, which suffered

little, though Penrod instantly regretted his indiscretion. "Oof!" he grunted, hopping; and went on after

bestowing a look of awful hostility upon the fencepost. "I guess you'll know better next time," he said, in

parting, to this antagonist. "You just let me catch you around here again and I'll" His voice sank to

Nearing home, however, his belligerent spirit was diverted to happier interests by the discovery that some

workmen had left a caldron of tar in the crossstreet, close by his father's stable. He tested it, but found it

inedible. Also, as a substitute for professional chewinggum it was unsatisfactory, being insufficiently boiled

down and too thin, though of a pleasant, lukewarm temperature. But it had an excess of one qualityit was

sticky. It was the stickiest tar Penrod had ever used for any purposes whatsoever, and nothing upon which he

wiped his hands served to rid them of it; neither his polkadotted shirt waist nor his knickerbockers; neither

the fence, nor even Duke, who came unthinkingly wagging out to greet him, and retired wiser.

Nevertheless, tar is tar. Much can be done with it, no matter what its condition; so Penrod lingered by the

caldron, though from a neighbouring yard could be heard the voices of comrades, including that of Sam

Williams. On the ground about the caldron were scattered chips and sticks and bits of wood to the number of

a great multitude. Penrod mixed quantities of this refuse into the tar, and interested himself in seeing how

Other surprises were arranged for the absent workmen. The caldron was almost full, and the surface of the tar

Penrod endeavoured to ascertain how many pebbles and brickbats, dropped in, would cause an overflow.

Labouring heartily to this end, he had almost accomplished it, when he received the suggestion for an

experiment on a much larger scale. Embedded at the corner of a grassplot across the street was a whitewashed

stone, the size of a small watermelon and serving no purpose whatever save the questionable one of

decoration. It was easily pried up with a stick; though getting it to the caldron tested the full strength of the

ardent labourer. Instructed to perform such a task, he would have sincerely maintained its impossibility but

now, as it was unbidden, and promised rather destructive results, he set about it with unconquerable energy,

feeling certain that he would be rewarded with a mighty splash. Perspiring, grunting vehemently, his back

aching and all muscles strained, he progressed in short stages until the big stone lay at the base of the caldron.

He rested a moment, panting, then lifted the stone, and was bending his shoulders for the heave that would

lift it over the rim, when a sweet, taunting voice, close behind him, startled him cruelly.

Penrod squawked, dropped the stone, and shouted, "Shut up, you dern fool!" purely from instinct, even before

It was Marjorie Jones. Always dainty, and prettily dressed, she was in speckless and starchy white today,

and a refreshing picture she made, with the newshorn and powerfully scented MitchyMitch clinging to her

hand. They had stolen up behind the toiler, and now stood laughing together in sweet merriment. Since the

passing of Penrod's Rupe Collins period he had experienced some severe qualms at the recollection of his last

meeting with Marjorie and his Apache behaviour; in truth, his heart instantly became as wax at sight of her,

and he would have offered her fair speech; but, alas! in Marjorie's wonderful eyes there shone a

"Oh, OH!" she cried, mocking his pained outcry. "What a way for a LITTLE GENTLEMAN to talk! Little

"Marjorie!" Penrod, enraged and dismayed, felt himself stung beyond all endurance. Insult from her was

"Little gentleman, little gentleman, little gentleman!" she said deliberately. "How's the little gentleman, this

Penrod, quite beside himself, danced eccentrically. "Dry up!" he howled. "Dry up, dry up, dry up, dry UP!"

MitchyMitch shouted with delight and applied a finger to the side of the caldrona finger immediately

"You better look out!" Penrod whirled upon this small offender with grim satisfaction. Here was at least

something male that could without dishonour be held responsible. "You say that again, and I'll give you the

"You will NOT!" snapped Marjorie, instantly vitriolic. "He'll say just whatever he wants to, and he'll say it

"OwYAH!" Penrod's toneproduction was becoming affected by his mental condition. "You say that again,

"Go on, MitchyMitch," cried Marjorie. "He can't do a thing. He don't DARE! Say it some more,

MitchyMitch, his small, fat face shining with confidence in his immunity, complied.

"'Ittle gellamun!" he squeaked malevolently. "'Ittle gellamun! 'Ittle gellamun! 'Ittle gellamun!"

The desperate Penrod bent over the whitewashed rock, lifted it, and thenoutdoing Porthos, John Ridd, and

But it was too late. The big stone descended into the precise midst of the caldron and Penrod got his mighty

Spontaneously there were grand and awful effectsvolcanic spectacles of nightmare and eruption. A black

sheet of eccentric shape rose out of the caldron and descended upon the three children, who had no time to

After it fell, MitchyMitch, who stood nearest the caldron, was the thickest, though there was enough for all.

When Marjorie and MitchyMitch got their breath, they used it vocally; and seldom have more penetrating

sounds issued from human throats. Coincidentally, Marjorie, quite baresark, laid hands upon the largest stick

within reach and fell upon Penrod with blind fury. He had the presence of mind to flee, and they went round

and round the caldron, while MitchyMitch feebly endeavoured to followhis appearance, in this pursuit,

being pathetically like that of a bug fished out of an inkwell, alive but discouraged.

Attracted by the riot, Samuel Williams made his appearance, vaulting a fence, and was immediately followed

by Maurice Levy and Georgie Bassett. They stared incredulously at the extraordinary spectacle before them.

"Little GENTILMUN!" shrieked Marjorie, with a wild stroke that landed full upon Penrod's tarry cap.

"It's Penrod!" shouted Sam Williams, recognizing him by the voice. For an instant he had been in some

"Penrod Schofield!" exclaimed Georgie Bassett. "WHAT does this mean?" That was Georgie's style, and had

Marjorie leaned, panting, upon her stick. "I cucalleduh himoh!" she sobbed"I called him a

Unexpectedly, she smote againwith resultsand then, seizing the indistinguishable hand of

"`Little gentleman'?" said Georgie Bassett, with some evidences of disturbed complacency. "Why, that's what

"Yes, and you ARE one, too!" shouted the maddened Penrod. "But you better not let anybody call ME that!

I've stood enough around here for one day, and you can't run over ME, Georgie Bassett. Just you put that in

"Anybody has a perfect right," said Georgie, with, dignity, "to call a person a little gentleman. There's lots of

Unavenged bruises were distributed all over Penrod, both upon his body and upon his spirit. Driven by subtle

forces, he had dipped his hands in catastrophe and disaster: it was not for a Georgie Bassett to beard him.

"I haven't called you a little gentleman, yet," said Georgie. "I only said it. Anybody's got a right to SAY it."

"I shall say it," returned Georgie, "all I please. Anybody in this town has a right to SAY `little

Bellowing insanely, Penrod plunged his right hand into the caldron, rushed upon Georgie and made awful

Alas, it was but the beginning! Sam Williams and Maurice Levy screamed with delight, and, simultaneously

"Little gentleman! Little gentleman! Sick him, Georgie! Sick him, little gentleman! Little gentleman! Little

The infuriated outlaw turned upon them with blows and more tar, which gave Georgie Bassett his opportunity

and later seriously impaired the purity of his fame. Feeling himself hopelessly tarred, he dipped both hands

repeatedly into the caldron and applied his gatherings to Penrod. It was bringing coals to Newcastle, but it

The four boys gave a fine imitation of the Laocoon group complicated by an extra figure frantic splutterings

and chokings, strange cries and stranger words issued from this tangle; hands dipped lavishly into the

inexhaustible reservoir of tar, with more and more picturesque results. The caldron had been elevated upon

bricks and was not perfectly balanced; and under a heavy impact of the struggling group it lurched and went

partly over, pouring forth a Stygian tide which formed a deep pool in the gutter.

It was the fate of Master Roderick Bitts, that exclusive and immaculate person, to make his appearance upon

the chaotic scene at this juncture. All in the cool of a white "sailor suit," he turned aside from the path of

dutywhich led straight to the house of a maiden auntand paused to hop with joy upon the sidewalk. A

repeated epithet continuously half panted, half squawked, somewhere in the nest of gladiators, caught his ear,

"Little gentleman!" shouted Roderick, jumping up and down in childish glee. "Little gentleman! Little

A frightful figure tore itself free from the group, encircled this innocent bystander with a black arm, and

hurled him headlong. Full length and flat on his face went Roderick into the Stygian pool. The frightful figure

Instantly, the pack flung themselves upon him again, and, carrying them with him, he went over upon

Thus began the Great Tar Fight, the origin of which proved, afterward, so difficult for parents to trace, owing

to the opposing accounts of the combatants. Marjorie said Penrod began it; Penrod said MitchyMitch began

it; Sam Williams said Georgie Bassett began it; Georgie and Maurice Levy said Penrod began it; Roderick

Nobody thought of accusing the barber. But the barber did not begin it; it was the fly on the barber's nose that

began it though, of course, something else began the fly. Somehow, we never manage to hang the real

The end came only with the arrival of Penrod's mother, who had been having a painful conversation by

telephone with Mrs. Jones, the mother of Marjorie, and came forth to seek an errant son. It is a mystery how

she was able to pick out her own, for by the time she got there his voice was too hoarse to be recognizable.

Mr. Schofield's version of things was that Penrod was insane. "He's a stark, raving lunatic!" declared the

father, descending to the library from a beforedinner interview with the outlaw, that evening. "I'd send him

to military school, but I don't believe they'd take him. Do you know WHY he says all that awfulness

"When Margaret and I were trying to scrub him," responded Mrs. Schofield wearily, "he said `everybody' had

"`Names!'" snorted her husband. "`Little gentleman!' THAT'S the vile epithet they called him! And because

"SH! Yes; he told us about it," said Mrs. Schofield, moaning. "He told us several hundred times, I should

guess, though I didn't count. He's got it fixed in his head, and we couldn't get it out. All we could do was to

put him in the closet. He'd have gone out again after those boys if we hadn't. I don't know WHAT to make of

"He's a mystery to ME!" said her husband. "And he refuses to explain why he objects to being called `little

gentleman.' Says he'd do the same thingand worseif anybody dared to call him that again. He said if the

President of the United States called him that he'd try to whip him. How long did you have him locked up in

"SH!" said Mrs. Schofield warningly. "About two hours; but I don't think it softened his spirit at all, because

when I took him to the barber's to get his hair clipped again, on account of the tar in it, Sammy Williams and

Maurice Levy were there for the same reason, and they just WHISPERED `little gentleman,' so low you

could hardly hear themand Penrod began fighting with them right before me, and it was really all the

barber and I could do to drag him away from them. The barber was very kind about it, but Penrod"

"I tell you he's a lunatic!" Mr. Schofield would have said the same thing of a Frenchman infuriated by the

"SH!" said Mrs. Schofield. "It's Mr. Kinosling, the new rector of Saint Joseph's."

"SH! On the front porch with Margaret; he's going to stay for dinner. I do hope"

"OUR old minister was speaking of him the other day," said Mr. Schofield, "and he didn't seem so terribly

"SH! Yes; about thirty, and of course so superior to most of Margaret's friendsboys home from college.

She thinks she likes young Robert Williams, I knowbut he laughs so much! Of course there isn't any

comparison. Mr. Kinosling talks so intellectually; it's a good thing for Margaret to hear that kind of thing, for

a change and, of course, he's very spiritual. He seems very much interested in her." She paused to muse. "I

think Margaret likes him; he's so different, too. It's the third time he's dropped in this week, and I"

"Well," said Mr. Schofield grimly, "if you and Margaret want him to come again, you'd better not let him see

"But he's asked to see him; he seems interested in meeting all the family. And Penrod nearly always behaves

fairly well at table." She paused, and then put to her husband a question referring to his interview with Penrod

"No," he answered gloomily. "No, I didn't, but" He was interrupted by a violent crash of china and

metal in the kitchen, a shriek from Della, and the outrageous voice of Penrod. The wellinformed Della,

illinspired to set up for a wit, had ventured to address the scion of the house roguishly as "little gentleman,"

and Penrod, by means of the rapid elevation of his right foot, had removed from her supporting hands a laden

tray. Both parents, started for the kitchen, Mr. Schofield completing his interrupted sentence on the way.

The rite thus promised was hastily but accurately performed in that apartment most distant from the front

porch; and, twenty minutes later, Penrod descended to dinner. The Rev. Mr. Kinosling had asked for the

pleasure of meeting him, and it had been decided that the only course possible was to cover up the scandal for

the present, and to offer an undisturbed and smiling family surface to the gaze of the visitor.

Scorched but not bowed, the smouldering Penrod was led forward for the social formulae simultaneously

with the somewhat bleak departure of Robert Williams, who took his guitar with him, this time, and went in

forlorn unconsciousness of the powerful forces already set in secret motion to be his allies.

The punishment just undergone had but made the haughty and unyielding soul of Penrod more stalwart in

revolt; he was unconquered. Every time the one intolerable insult had been offered him, his resentment had

become the hotter, his vengeance the more instant and furious. And, still burning with outrage, but upheld by

the conviction of right, he was determined to continue to the last drop of his blood the defense of his honour,

whenever it should be assailed, no matter how mighty or august the powers that attacked it. In all ways, he

During the brief ceremony of presentation, his usually inscrutable countenance wore an expression

interpreted by his father as one of insane obstinacy, while Mrs. Schofield found it an incentive to inward

prayer. The fine graciousness of Mr. Kinosling, however, was unimpaired by the glare of virulent suspicion

given him by this little brother: Mr. Kinosling mistook it for a natural curiosity concerning one who might

possibly become, in time, a member of the family. He patted Penrod upon the head, which was, for many

reasons, in no condition to be patted with any pleasure to the patter. Penrod felt himself in the presence of a

"How do you do, my little lad," said Mr. Kinosling. "I trust we shall become fast friends."

To the ear of his little lad, it seemed he said, "A trost we shall bickhome fawst frainds." Mr. Kinosling's

pronunciation was, in fact, slightly precious; and, the little lad, simply mistaking it for some cryptic form of

mockery of himself, assumed a manner and expression which argued so ill for the proposed friendship that

Mrs. Schofield hastily interposed the suggestion of dinner, and the small procession went in to the

"It has been a delicious day," said Mr. Kinosling, presently; "warm but balmy." With a benevolent smile he

addressed Penrod, who sat opposite him. "I suppose, little gentleman, you have been indulging in the usual

"You'll have another slice of breast of the chicken?" Mr. Schofield inquired, loudly and quickly.

"A lovely day!" exclaimed Margaret, with equal promptitude and emphasis. "Lovely, oh, lovely! Lovely!"

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!" said Mrs. Schofield, and after a glance at Penrod which confirmed her

impression that he intended to say something, she continued, "Yes, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,

Penrod closed his mouth and sank back in his chairand his relatives took breath.

Mr. Kinosling looked pleased. This responsive family, with its ready enthusiasm, made the kind of audience

he liked. He passed a delicate white hand gracefully over his tall, pale forehead, and smiled indulgently.

"Youth relaxes in summer," he said. "Boyhood is the age of relaxation; one is playful, light, free, unfettered.

One runs and leaps and enjoys one's self with one's companions. It is good for the little lads to play with their

friends; they jostle, push, and wrestle, and simulate little, happy struggles with one another in harmless

conflict. The young muscles are toughening. It is good. Boyish chivalry develops, enlarges, expands. The

young learn quickly, intuitively, spontaneously. They perceive the obligations of noblesse oblige. They begin

to comprehend the necessity of caste and its requirements. They learn what birth meansah,that is, they

learn what it means to be well born. They learn courtesy in their games; they learn politeness, consideration

for one another in their pastimes, amusements, lighter occupations. I make it my pleasure to join them often,

for I sympathize with them in all their wholesome joys as well as in their little bothers and perplexities. I

understand them, you see; and let me tell you it is no easy matter to understand the little lads and lassies." He

sent to each listener his beaming glance, and, permitting it to come to rest upon Penrod, inquired:

Mr. Schofield uttered a stentorian cough. "More? You'd better have some more chicken! More! Do!"

"More chicken!" urged Margaret simultaneously. "Do please! Please! More! Do! More!"

"Beautiful, beautiful," began Mrs. Schofield. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful"

It is not known in what light Mr. Kinosling viewed the expression of Penrod's face. Perhaps he mistook it for

awe; perhaps he received no impression at all of its extraordinary quality. He was a rather selfengrossed

young man, just then engaged in a double occupation, for he not only talked, but supplied from his own

consciousness a critical though favourable auditor as well, which of course kept him quite busy. Besides, it is

oftener than is expected the case that extremely peculiar expressions upon the countenances of boys are

entirely overlooked, and suggest nothing to the minds of people staring straight at them. Certainly Penrod's

expressionwhich, to the perception of his family, was perfectly horriblecaused not the faintest

Mr. Kinosling waived the chicken, and continued to talk. "Yes, I think I may claim to understand boys," he

said, smiling thoughtfully. "One has been a boy one's self. Ah, it is not all playtime! I hope our young scholar

here does not overwork himself at his Latin, at his classics, as I did, so that at the age of eight years I was

compelled to wear glasses. He must be careful not to strain the little eyes at his scholar's tasks, not to let the

little shoulders grow round over his scholar's desk. Youth is golden; we should keep it golden, bright,

glistening. Youth should frolic, should be sprightly; it should play its cricket, its tennis, its handball. It

should run and leap; it should laugh, should sing madrigals and glees, carol with the lark, ring out in chanties,

He talked on. At any instant Mr. Schofield held himself ready to cough vehemently and shout, "More

chicken," to drown out Penrod in case the fatal words again fell from those eloquent lips; and Mrs. Schofield

and Margaret kept themselves prepared at all times to assist him. So passed a threatening meal, which Mrs.

Schofield hurried, by every means with decency, to its conclusion. She felt that somehow they would all be

safer out in the dark of the front porch, and led the way thither as soon as possible.

"No cigar, I thank you." Mr. Kinosling, establishing himself in a wicker chair beside Margaret, waved away

her father's proffer. "I do not smoke. I have never tasted tobacco in any form." Mrs. Schofield was confirmed

in her opinion that this would be an ideal soninlaw. Mr. Schofield was not so sure.

"No," said Mr. Kinosling. "No tobacco for me. No cigar, no pipe, no cigarette, no cheroot. For me, a booka

volume of poems, perhaps. Verses, rhymes, lines metrical and cadenced those are my dissipation.

Tennyson by preference: `Maud,' or `Idylls of the King'poetry of the sound Victorian days; there is none

later. Or Longfellow will rest me in a tired hour. Yes; for me, a book, a volume in the hand, held lightly

Mr. Kinosling looked pleasantly at his fingers as he spoke, waving his hand in a curving gesture which

brought it into the light of a window faintly illumined from the interior of the house. Then he passed those

graceful fingers over his hair, and turned toward Penrod, who was perched upon the railing in a dark corner.

"The evening is touched with a slight coolness," said Mr. Kinosling. "Perhaps I may request the little

"B'grrRUFF!" coughed Mr. Schofield. "You'd better change your mind about a cigar."

"No, I thank you. I remarked a slight coolness in the air, and my hat is in the hallway. I was about to

"If you will be so good," said Mr. Kinosling. "It is a black bowler hat, little gentleman, and placed upon a

"I know where it is." Penrod entered the door, and a feeling of relief, mutually experienced, carried from one

to another of his three relatives their interchanged congratulations that he had recovered his sanity.

"`The day is done, and the darkness,'" began Mr. Kinosling and recited that poem entire. He followed it

with "The Children's Hour," and after a pause, at the close, to allow his listeners time for a little reflection

upon his rendition, he passed his handagain over his head, and called, in the direction of the doorway:

"Here it is," said Penrod, unexpectedly climbing over the porch railing, in the other direction. His mother and

father and Margaret had supposed him to be standing in the hallway out of deference, and because he thought

it tactful not to interrupt the recitations. All of them remembered, later, that this supposed thoughtfulness on

"Very good, little gentleman!" said Mr. Kinosling, and being somewhat chilled, placed the hat firmly upon

his head, pulling it down as far as it would go. It had a pleasant warmth, which he noticed at once. The next

instant, he noticed something else, a peculiar sensation of the scalpa sensation which he was quite unable

to define. He lifted his hand to take the hat off, and entered upon a strange experience: his hat seemed to have

"IahI cannot say," he returned absently. "Iaheach has his ownugh! flavour and savour, each

Struck by a strangeness in his tone, she peered at him curiously through the dusk. His outlines were

indistinct, but she made out that his arms were, uplifted in a singular gesture. He seemed to be wrenching at

He dropped his hands from his hat, and rose. His manner was slightly agitated. "I fear I may have taken a

At the steps, he instinctively lifted his hand to remove his hat, but did not do so, and, saying "Goodnight,"

again in a frigid voice, departed with visible stiffness from that house, to return no more.

"Well, of all!" cried Mrs. Schofield, astounded. "What was the matter? He just wentlike that!" She

"Why, he didn't even take off his hat when he said good night!" said Mrs. Schofield.

Margaret, who had crossed to the doorway, caught the ghost of a whisper behind her, where stood Penrod.

A frightful suspicion flashed through Margaret's minda suspicion that Mr. Kinosling's hat would have to

be either boiled off or shaved off. With growing horror she recalled Penrod's long absence when he went to

She had toiled at those hands herself late that afternoon, nearly scalding her own, but at last achieving a lily

Perhaps middleaged people might discern Nature's real intentions in the matter of pain if they would

examine a boy's punishments and sorrows, for he prolongs neither beyond their actual duration. With a boy,

trouble must be of Homeric dimensions to last overnight. To him, every next day is really a new day. Thus,

Penrod woke, next morning, with neither the unspared rod, nor Mr. Kinosling in his mind. Tar, itself, so far

as his consideration of it went, might have been an undiscovered substance. His mood was cheerful and

mercantile; some process having worked mysteriously within him, during the night, to the result that his first

waking thought was of profits connected with the sale of old ironor perhaps a ragman had passed the

By ten o'clock he had formed a partnership with the indeed amiable Sam, and the firm of Schofield and

Williams plunged headlong into commerce. Heavy dealings in rags, paper, old iron and lead gave the firm a

balance of twentytwo cents on the evening of the third day; but a venture in glassware, following, proved

disappointing on account of the scepticism of all the druggists in that part of town, even after seven laborious

hours had been spent in cleansing a wheelbarrowload of old medicine bottles with hydrant water and ashes.

Likewise, the partners were disheartened by their failure to dispose of a crop of "greens," although they had

uprooted specimens of that decorative and unappreciated flower, the dandelion, with such persistence and

energy that the Schofields' and Williams' lawns looked curiously haggard for the rest of that summer.

One August afternoon was so hot that even boys sought indoor shade. In the dimness of the vacant

carriagehouse of the stable, lounged Masters Penrod Schofield, Samuel Williams, Maurice Levy, Georgie

Bassett, and Herman. They sat still and talked. It is a hot day, in rare truth, when boys devote themselves

Their elders should beware such days. Peril hovers near when the fierceness of weather forces inaction and

boys in groups are quiet. The more closely volcanoes, Western rivers, nitroglycerin, and boys are pent, the

deadlier is their action at the point of outbreak. Thus, parents and guardians should look for outrages of the

most singular violence and of the most peculiar nature during the confining weather of February and August.

The thing which befell upon this broiling afternoon began to brew and stew peacefully enough. All was

They were upon their great theme: "When I get to be a man!" Being human, though boys, they considered

their present estate too commonplace to be dwelt upon. So, when the old men gather, they say: "When I was a

"When I'm a man," said Sam Williams, "I'm goin' to hire me a couple of coloured waiters to swing me in a

hammock and keep pourin' icewater on me all day out o' those waterin'cans they sprinkle flowers from. I'll

"No; you ain' goin' to," said Herman promptly. "You ain' no flowuh. But nev' min' nat, anyway. Ain' nobody

goin' haih me whens _I_'m a man. Goin' be my own boss. _I_'m go' be a rai'road man!"

"You mean like a superintendent, or sumpthing like that, and sell tickets?" asked Penrod.

"Sup'innev' min' nat! Sell ticket? NO suh! Go' be a PO'tuh! My uncle a po'tuh right now. Solid gole

"Po'tuhs make the bes' l'vin'," Herman interrupted. "My uncle spen' mo' money 'n any white man n'is town."

"Well, I rather be a general," said Penrod, "or a senator, or sumpthing like that."

"Senators live in Warshington," Maurice Levy contributed the information. "I been there. Warshington ain't

so much; Niag'ra Falls is a hundred times as good as Warshington. So's 'Tlantic City, I was there, too. I been

"Well, anyway," said Sam Williams, raising his voice in order to obtain the floor, "anyway, I'm goin' to lay in

a hammock all day, and have icewater sprinkled on top o' me, and I'm goin' to lay there all night, too, and

"What you goin' to do when it's winter, out in a hammock with water sprinkled on top o' you all day? I bet

"I'd stay right there," Sam declared, with strong conviction, blinking as he looked out through the open doors

at the dazzling lawn and trees, trembling in the heat. "They couldn't sprinkle too much for ME!"

"Yay! I'd swaller it as fast as it'd come down. I wish I had a BARREL o' snow right now. I wish this whole

barn was full of it. I wish they wasn't anything in the whole world except just good ole snow."

Penrod and Herman rose and went out to the hydrant, where they drank long and ardently. Sam was still

"No, I wouldn't just roll in it. I'd stick it all round inside my clo'es, and fill my hat. No, I'd freeze a big pile of

it all hard, and I'd roll her out flat and then I'd carry her down to some ole tailor's and have him make me a

"Can't you keep still about your ole snow?" demanded Penrod petulantly. "Makes me so thirsty I can't keep

still, and I've drunk so much now I bet I bust. That ole hydrant water's mighty near hot anyway."

"NO, sir! I'll have candy in it, but not to eat, so much. It's goin' to be a deportment store: ladies' clothes,

gentlemen's clothes, neckties, china goods, leather goods, nice lines in woollings and lace goods"

"Yay! I wouldn't give a fiveforacent marble for your whole store," said Sam. "Would you, Penrod?"

"Wait!" clamoured Maurice. "You'd be foolish, because they'd be a toy deportment in my store where they'd

be a hunderd marbles! So, how much would you think your fiveforacent marble counts for? And when

"Yay!" shrieked Sam derisively. "MARRIED! Listen!" Penrod and Herman joined in the howl of contempt.

"Certumly I'll get married," asserted Maurice stoutly. "I'll get married to Marjorie Jones. She likes me awful

"Because she's my beau, too," came the prompt answer. "I'm her beau because she's my beau; I guess that's

"Married!" jeered Sam Williams. "Married to Marjorie Jones! You're the only boy I ever heard say he was

going to get married. I wouldn't get married forwhy, I wouldn't forfor" Unable to think of any

inducement the mere mention of which would not be ridiculously incommensurate, he proceeded: "I wouldn't

do it! What you want to get married for? What do married people do, except just come home tired, and worry

around and kind of scold? You better not do it, M'rice; you'll be mighty sorry."

"I'll bet _I_ don't!" Sam returned hotly. "They better catch me before they tell ME I have to. Anyway, I bet

"Look at what my own papa told me!" cried Maurice, heated with argument. "Didn't he tell me your papa had

to marry your mamma, or else he never'd got to handle a cent of her money? Certumly, people gotta marry.

Everybody. You don't know anybody over twenty years old that isn't marriedexcept maybe teachers."

"Look at policemen!" shouted Sam triumphantly. `You don't s'pose anybody can make policemen get

"Well, policemen, maybe," Maurice was forced to admit. "Policemen and teachers don't, but everybody else

"Well, I'll be a policeman," said Sam. "THEN I guess they won't come around tellin' me I have to get

This announcement created a sensation so profound that it was followed by silence. Herman was the first to

"He can't holler at all," Penrod interposed with scorn. "He hollers like a girl. He's the poorest hollerer in

Herman shook his head. Evidently he thought Georgie's chance of being ordained very slender. Nevertheless,

a final question put to the candidate by the coloured expert seemed to admit one ray of hope.

"He can't climb one at all," Penrod answered for Georgie. "Over at Sam's turningpole you ought to see him

"GOOD ones do," declared Herman. "Bes' one ev' _I_ hear, he clim up an' down same as a circus man. One

n'em big 'vivals outen whens we livin' on a fahm, preachuh clim big pole right in a middle o' the church, what

was to hol' roof up. He clim way high up, an' holler: `Goin' to heavum, goin' to heavum, goin' to heavum

NOW. Hallelujah, praise my Lawd!' An' he slide down little, an' holler: `Devil's got a hol' o' my coat tails;

devil tryin' to drag me down! Sinnuhs, take wawnun! Devil got a hol' o' my coattails; I'm agoin' to hell, oh

Lawd!' Nex', he clim up little mo', an' yell an' holler: `Done shuck ole devil loose; goin' straight to heavum

agin! Goin' to heavum, goin' to heavum, my Lawd!' Nex', he slide down some mo' an' holler, `Leggo my

coattails, ole devil! Goin' to hell agin, sinnuhs! Goin' straight to hell, my Lawd!' An' he clim an' he slide, an'

he slide, an' he clim, an' all time holler: `Now 'm agoin' to heavum; now 'm agoin' to hell! Goin'to heavum,

heavum, heavum, my Lawd!' Las' he slide all away down, jes' asquallin' an' akickin' an' ararin' up an'

squealin', `Goin' to hell. Goin' to hell! Ole Satum got my soul! Goin' to hell! Goin' to hell! Goin' to hell, hell,

Herman possessed that extraordinary facility for vivid acting which is the great native gift of his race, and he

Herman, nothing loath, accepted the encore and repeated the Miltonic episode, expanding it somewhat, and

dwelling with a fine art upon those portions of the narrative which he perceived to be most exciting to his

audience. Plainly, they thrilled less to Paradise gained than to its losing, and the dreadful climax of the

"Georgie Bassett couldn't do that to save his life," he declared. "_I_'m goin' to be a preacher! I'D be all right

"So am I!" Sam Williams echoed loudly. "I guess I can do it if YOU can. I'd be better'n Penrod, wouldn't I,

"I am, too!" Maurice shouted. "I got a stronger voice than anybody here, and I'd like to know what"

The three clamoured together indistinguishably, each asserting his qualifications for the ministry according to

Herman's theory, which had been accepted by these sudden converts without question.

"Listen to ME!" Maurice bellowed, proving his claim to at least the voice by drowning the others. "Maybe I

Sam and Maurice, awed by Penrod's daring, ceased from turmoil, staring wideeyed.

"I did not! I said, `Go to heaven,' before I said a big H. That isn't swearing, is it, Herman? It's almost what the

preacher said, ain't it, Herman? It ain't swearing now, any morenot if you put `go to heaven' with it, is it,

Herman? You can say it all you want to, long as you say `go to heaven' first, CAN'T you, Herman? Anybody

can say it if the preacher says it, can't they, Herman? I guess I know when I ain't swearing, don't I, Herman?"

Judge Herman ruled for the defendant, and Penrod was considered to have carried his point. With fine

consistency, the conclave established that it was proper for the general public to "say it," provided "go to

heaven" should in all cases precede it. This prefix was pronounced a perfect disinfectant, removing all odour

of impiety or insult; and, with the exception of Georgie Bassett (who maintained that the minister's words

were "going" and "gone," not "go"), all the boys proceeded to exercise their new privilege so lavishly that

But there was no diminution of evangelical ardour; again were heard the clamours of dispute as to which was

the best qualified for the ministry, each of the claimants appealing passionately to Herman, who, pleased but

During a pause, Georgie Bassett asserted his prior rights. "Who said it first, I'd like to know?" he demanded.

"I was going to be a minister from long back of today, I guess. And I guess I said I was going to be a

minister right today before any of you said anything at all. DIDN'T I, Herman? YOU heard me, didn't you,

"What if you did say it first?" Penrod shouted. "You couldn't BE a minister if you were a hunderd years old!"

"I bet his mother wouldn't let him be one," said Sam. "She never lets him do anything."

"He's too sissy to be a preacher!" cried Maurice. "Listen at his squeaky voice!"

"I'm going to be a better minister," shouted Georgie, "than all three of you put together. I could do it with my

The three laughed bitingly in chorus. They jeered, derided, scoffed, and raised an uproar which would have

had its effect upon much stronger nerves than Georgie's. For a time he contained his rising choler and chanted

monotonously, over and over: "I COULD! I COULD, TOO! I COULD! I COULD, TOO!" But their tumult

wore upon him, and he decided to avail himself of the recent decision whereby a big H was rendered

innocuous and unprofane. Having used the expression once, he found it comforting, and substituted it for: "I

But it relieved him only temporarily. His tormentors were unaffected by it and increased their howlings, until

at last Georgie lost his head altogether. Badgered beyond bearing, his eyes shining with a wild light, he broke

through the besieging trio, hurling little Maurice from his path with a frantic hand.

"I'll show you!" he cried, in this sudden frenzy. "You give me a chance, and I'll prove it right NOW!"

"That's talkin' business!" shouted Penrod. "Everybody keep still a minute. Everybody!"

He took command of the situation at once, displaying a fine capacity for organization and system. It needed

only a few minutes to set order in the place of confusion and to determine, with the full concurrence of all

parties, the conditions under which Georgie Bassett was to defend his claim by undergoing what may be

perhaps intelligibly defined as the Herman test. Georgie declared he could do it easily. He was in a state of

great excitement and in no condition to think calmly or, probably, he would not have made the attempt at all.

It was during the discussion of the details of this enterprise that Georgie's mother, a short distance down the

street, received a few female callers, who came by appointment to drink a glass of iced tea with her, and to

meet the Rev. Mr. Kinosling. Mr. Kinosling was proving almost formidably interesting to the women and

girls of his own and other flocks. What favour of his fellow clergymen a slight precociousness of manner and

pronunciation cost him was more than balanced by the visible ecstasies of ladies. They blossomed at his

He had just entered Mrs. Bassett's front door, when the son of the house, followed by an intent and earnest

company of four, opened the alley gate and came into the yard. The unconscious Mrs. Bassett was about to

have her first experience of a fatal coincidence. It was her first, because she was the mother of a boy so well

behaved that he had become a proverb of transcendency. Fatal coincidences were plentiful in the Schofield

and Williams families, and would have been familiar to Mrs. Bassett had Georgie been permitted greater

Mr. Kinosling sipped his iced tea and looked about, him approvingly. Seven ladies leaned forward, for it was

"This cool room is a relief," he said, waving a graceful hand in a neatly limited gesture, which everybody's

eyes followed, his own included. "It is a relief and a retreat. The windows open, the blinds closedthat is as

it should be. It is a retreat, a fastness, a bastion against the heat's assault. For me, a quiet rooma quiet room

and a book, a volume in the hand, held lightly between the fingers. A volume of poems, lines metrical and

"Swinburne?" suggested Miss Beam, an eager spinster. "Swinburne, Mr. Kinosling? Ah, SWINBURNE!"

Miss Beam retired in confusion behind another lady; and somehow there became diffused an impression that

"He's out playing in the yard," Mrs. Bassett returned. "I heard his voice just now, I think."

"Everywhere I hear wonderful report of him," said Mr. Kinosling. "I may say that I understand boys, and I

feel that he is a rare, a fine, a pure, a lofty spirit. I say spirit, for spirit is the word I hear spoken of him."

A chorus of enthusiastic approbation affirmed the accuracy of this proclamation, and Mrs. Bassett flushed

with pleasure. Georgie's spiritual perfection was demonstrated by instances of it, related by the visitors; his

"Not all boys are pure, of fine spirit, of high mind," said Mr. Kinosling, and continued with true feeling: "You

have a neighbour, dear Mrs. Bassett, whose household I indeed really feel it quite impossible to visit until

such time when better, firmer, stronger handed, more determined discipline shall prevail. I find Mr. and Mrs.

Three or four ladies said "Oh!" and spoke a name simultaneously. It was as if they had said, "Oh, the bubonic

"Georgie does not play with him," said Mrs. Bassett quickly "that is, he avoids him as much as he can

without hurting Penrod's feelings. Georgie is very sensitive to giving pain. I suppose a mother should not tell

these things, and I know people who talk about their own children are dreadful bores, but it was only last

Thursday night that Georgie looked up in my face so sweetly, after he had said his prayers and his little

cheeks flushed, as he said: "Mamma, I think it would be right for me to go more with Penrod. I think it would

A sibilance went about the room. "Sweet! How sweet! The sweet little soul! Ah, SWEET!"

"And that very afternoon," continued Mrs. Bassett, "he had come home in a dreadful state. Penrod had thrown

"Your son has a forgiving spirit!" said Mr. Kinosling with vehemence. "A too forgiving spirit, perhaps." He

set down his glass. "No more, I thank you. No more cake, I thank you. Was it not Cardinal Newman who

He was interrupted by the sounds of an altercation just outside the closed blinds of the window nearest him.

"Let him pick his tree!" It was the voice of Samuel Williams. "Didn't we come over here to give him one of

"The little lads!" Mr. Kinosling smiled. "They have their games, their outdoor sports, their pastimes. The

young muscles are toughening. The sun will not harm them. They grow; they expand; they learn. They learn

fair play, honour, courtesy, from one another, as pebbles grow round in the brook. They learn more from

"Mr. Kinosling!" Another spinsterundeterred by what had happened to Miss Beamleaned fair forward,

her face shining and ardent. "Mr. Kinosling, there's a question I DO wish to ask you."

"My dear Miss Cosslit," Mr. Kinosling responded, again waving his hand and watching it, "I am entirely at

He smiled indulgently. "Yesand no," he said. "One must give both answers. One must give the answer,

"And I have a question, too," urged Mrs. Lora Rewbush, after a moment's hasty concentration. "'I've never

"Isahisoh, yes: Is Sanskrit a more difficult language than Spanish, Mr. Kinosling?"

"It depends upon the student," replied the oracle smiling. "One must not look for linguists everywhere. In my

own especial caseif one may cite one's self as an exampleI found no great, no insurmountable difficulty

"And may _I_ ask one?" ventured Mrs. Bassett. "Do you think it is right to wear egrets?"

"There are marks of quality, of caste, of social distinction," Mr. Kinosling began, "which must be permitted,

allowed, though perhaps regulated. Social distinction, one observes, almost invariably implies spiritual

distinction as well. Distinction of circumstances is accompanied by mental distinction. Distinction is

hereditary; it descends from father to son, and if there is one thing more true than `Like father, like son,' it

is" he bowed gallantly to Mrs. Bassett"it is, `Like mother, like son.' What these good ladies have said

This was the fatal instant. There smote upon all ears the voice of Georgie, painfully shrill and

penetratingfraught with protest and protracted, strain. His plain words consisted of the newly sanctioned

With an ejaculation of horror, Mrs. Bassett sprang to the window and threw open the blinds.

Georgie's back was disclosed to the view of the teaparty. He was endeavouring to ascend a maple tree about

twelve feet from the window. Embracing the trunk with arms and legs, he had managed to squirm to a point

above the heads of Penrod and Herman, who stood close by, watching him earnestlyPenrod being

obviously in charge of the performance. Across the yard were Sam Williams and Maurice Levy, acting as a

jury on the question of voicepower, and it was to a complaint of theirs that Georgie had just replied.

"That's right, Georgie," said Penrod encouragingly. "They can, too, hear you. Let her go!"

"Going to heaven!" shrieked Georgie, squirming up another inch. "Going to heaven, heaven, heaven!"

His mother's frenzied attempts to attract his attention failed utterly. Georgie was using the full power of his

lungs, deafening his own ears to all other sounds. Mrs. Bassett called in vain; while the teaparty stood

"Going to heaven!" Georgie bellowed. "Going to heaven! Going to heaven, my Lord! Going to heaven,

He tried to climb higher, but began to slip downward, his exertions causing damage to his apparel. A button

"Devil's got my coattails, sinners! Old devil's got my coattails!" he announced appropriately. Then he

"Going to hell!" shrieked Georgie, reaching a high pitch of enthusiasm in this great climax. "Going to hell!

With a loud scream, Mrs. Bassett threw herself out of the window, alighting by some miracle upon her feet

Mr. Kinosling, feeling that his presence as spiritual adviser was demanded in the yard, followed with greater

dignity through the front door. At the corner of the house a small departing figure collided with him violently.

It was Penrod, tactfully withdrawing from what promised to be a family scene of unusual painfulness.

Mr. Kinosling seized him by the shoulders and, giving way to emotion, shook him viciously.

"You horrible boy!" exclaimed Mr. Kinosling. "You ruffianly creature! Do you know what's going to happen

With flashing eyes, the indignant boy made know his unshaken purpose. He shouted the reply:

This busy globe which spawns us is as incapable of flattery and as intent upon its own affair, whatever that is,

as a gyroscope; it keeps steadily whirling along its lawful track, and, thus far seeming to hold a right of way,

spins doggedly on, with no perceptible diminution of speed to mark the most gigantic human eventsit did

not pause to pant and recuperate even when what seemed to Penrod its principal purpose was accomplished,

and an enormous shadow, vanishing westward over its surface, marked the dawn of his twelfth birthday.

To be twelve is an attainment worth the struggle. A boy, just twelve, is like a Frenchman just elected to the

Distinction and honour wait upon him. Younger boys show deference to a person of twelve: his experience is

guaranteed, his judgment, therefore, mellow; consequently, his influence is profound. Eleven is not quite

satisfactory: it is only an approach. Eleven has the disadvantage of six, of nineteen, of fortyfour, and of

sixtynine. But, like twelve, seven is an honourable age, and the ambition to attain it is laudable. People look

forward to being seven. Similarly, twenty is worthy, and so, arbitrarily, is twentyone; fortyfive has great

solidity; seventy is most commendable and each year thereafter an increasing honour. Thirteen is

embarrassed by the beginnings of a new colthood; the child becomes a youth. But twelve is the very top of

Dressing, that morning, Penrod felt that the world was changed from the world of yesterday. For one thing,

he seemed to own more of it; this day was HIS day. And it was a day worth owning; the midsummer

sunshine, pouring gold through his window, came from a cool sky, and a breeze moved pleasantly in his hair

as he leaned from the sill to watch the tribe of clattering blackbirds take wing, following their leader from the

trees in the yard to the day's work in the open country. The blackbirds were his, as the sunshine and the

breeze were his, for they all belonged to the day which was his birthday and therefore most surely his. Pride

His father and his mother and Margaret seemed to understand the difference between today and yesterday.

They were at the table when he descended, and they gave him a greeting which of itself marked the

milestone. Habitually, his entrance into a room where his elders sat brought a cloud of apprehension: they

were prone to look up in pathetic expectancy, as if their thought was, "What new awfulness is he going to

start NOW?" But this morning they laughed; his mother rose and kissed him twelve times, so did Margaret;

Then his mother gave him a Bible and "The Vicar of Wakefield"; Margaret gave him a pair of

silvermounted hair brushes; and his father gave him a "Pocket Atlas" and a small compass.

"And now, Penrod," said his mother, after breakfast, "I'm going to take you out in the country to pay your

Aunt Sarah Crim, Penrod's greataunt, was his oldest living relative. She was ninety, and when Mrs.

Schofield and Penrod alighted from a carriage at her gate they found her digging with a spade in the garden.

"I'm glad you brought him," she said, desisting from labour. "Jinny's baking a cake I'm going to send for his

She led the way to her "sittingroom," which had a pleasant smell, unlike any other smell, and, opening the

drawer of a shining old whatnot, took therefrom a boy's "slingshot," made of a forked stick, two strips of

"This isn't for you," she said, placing it in Penrod's eager hand. "No. It would break all to pieces the first time

you tried to shoot it, because it is thirtyfive years old. I want to send it back to your father. I think it's time.

You give it to him from me, and tell him I say I believe I can trust him with it now. I took it away from him

thirtyfive years ago, one day after he'd killed my best hen with it, accidentally, and broken a glass pitcher on

the back porch with itaccidentally. He doesn't look like a person who's ever done things of that sort, and I

suppose he's forgotten it so well that he believes he never DID, but if you give it to him from me I think he'll

After this final bit of reminiscenceprobably designed to be repeated to Mr. Schofieldshe disappeared in

the direction of the kitchen, and returned with a pitcher of lemonade and a blue china dish sweetly freighted

with flat ginger cookies of a composition that was her own secret. Then, having set this collation before her

guests, she presented Penrod with a superb, intricate, and very modern machine of destructive capacities

"I suppose you'll do something horrible with it," she said, composedly. "I hear you do that with everything,

anyhow, so you might as well do it with this, and have more fun out of it. They tell me you're the Worst Boy

Penrod, gazing fondly upon his knife and eating cookies rapidly, answered as a matter of course, and

"Certainly!" said Mrs. Crim. "Once you accept a thing about yourself as established and settled, it's all right.

"Yes, they are," returned Aunt Sarah. "Only they're not quite so awful, because they haven't learned to cover

themselves all over with little pretences. When Penrod grows up he'll be just the same as he is now, except

that whenever he does what he wants to do he'll tell himself and other people a little story about it to make his

"Well," said Penrod, with a full mouth, "it might get all dried up if nobody took it, and get thrown out and

"You're beginning finely," Mrs. Crim remarked. "A year ago you'd have taken the cookie without the same

"Nothing. I see that you're twelve years old, that's all. There are more cookies, Penrod." She went away,

returning with a fresh supply and the observation, "Of course, you'll be sick before the day's over; you might

Mrs. Schofield looked thoughtful. "Aunt Sarah," she ventured, "don't you really think we improve as we get

"Meaning," said the old lady, "that Penrod hasn't much chance to escape the penitentiary if he doesn't? Well,

we do learn to restrain ourselves in some things; and there are people who really want someone else to take

the last cookie, though they aren't very common. But it's all right, the world seems to be getting on." She

gazed whimsically upon her greatnephew and added, "Of course, when you watch a boy and think about

Penrod moved uneasily in his chair; he was conscious that he was her topic but unable to make out whether

or not her observations were complimentary; he inclined to think they were not. Mrs. Crim settled the

"I dare say the neighbours are right," continued the old lady placidly. "He's had to repeat the history of the

race and go through all the stages from the primordial to barbarism. You don't expect boys to be civilized, do

"You might as well expect eggs to crow. No; you've got to take boys as they are, and learn to know them as

"Of course, men are different," Mrs. Schofield returned, apologetically. "But a mother knows"

"And I'll tell you what your mother thinks you are, Penrod. Her real belief is that you're a novice in a

"I know she thinks that, because whenever you don't behave like a novice she's disappointed in you. And

your father really believes that you're a decorous, welltrained young business man, and whenever you don't

live up to that standard you get on his nerves and he thinks you need a walloping. I'm sure a day very seldom

passes without their both saying they don't know what on earth to do with you. Does whipping do you any

"Go on and finish the lemonade; there's about glassful left. Oh, take it, take it; and don't say why! Of

Penrod laughed gratefully, his eyes fixed upon her over the rim of his uptilted glass.

"Fill yourself up uncomfortably," said the old lady. "You're twelve years old, and you ought to be happyif

you aren't anything else. It's taken over nineteen hundred years of Christianity and some hundreds of

"It'll be your turn to struggle and muss things up, for the betterment of posterity, soon enough," said Aunt

"Aunt Sarah's a funny old lady," Penrod observed, on the way back to the town. "What's she want me to give

papa this old sling for? Last thing she said was to be sure not to forget to give it to him. HE don't want it; and

"About fifty years older," answered Mrs. Schofield, turning upon him a stare of perplexity. "Don't cut into the

leather with your new knife, dear; the livery man might ask us to pay if No. I wouldn't scrape the paint

off, eithernor whittle your shoe with it. COULDN'T you put it up until we get home?"

"No. We're going to stop at Mrs. Gelbraith's and ask a strange little girl to come to your party, this afternoon."

"No; I mean that she is a stranger. She lives in New York and has come to visit here."

"Because her parents live there. You must be very nice to her, Penrod; she has been very carefully brought

up. Besides, she doesn't know the children here, and you must help to keep her from feeling lonely at your

When they reached Mrs. Gelbraith's, Penrod sat patiently humped upon a gilt chair during the lengthy

exchange of greetings between his mother. and Mrs. Gelbraith. That is one of the things a boy must learn to

bear: when his mother meets a compeer there is always a long and dreary wait for him, while the two appear

to be using strange symbols of speech, talking for the greater part, it seems to him, simultaneously, and

employing a wholly incomprehensible system of emphasis at other times not in vogue. Penrod twisted his

"Here she is!" Mrs. Gelbraith cried, unexpectedly, and a darkhaired, demure person entered the room

wearing a look of gracious social expectancy. In years she was eleven, in manner about sixtyfive, and

evidently had lived much at court. She performed a curtsey in acknowledgment of Mrs. Schofield's greeting,

and bestowed her hand upon Penrod, who had entertained no hope of such an honour, showed his surprise

that it should come to him, and was plainly unable to decide what to do about it.

"Fanchon, dear," said Mrs. Gelbraith, "take Penrod out in the yard for a while, and play."

"Let go the little girl's hand, Penrod," Mrs. Schofield laughed, as the children turned toward the door.

Penrod hastily dropped the small hand, and exclaiming, with simple honesty, "Why, _I_ don't want it!"

followed Fanchon out into the sunshiny yard, where they came to a halt and surveyed each other.

Penrod stared awkwardly at Fanchon, no other occupation suggesting itself to him, while Fanchon, with the

utmost coolness, made a very thorough visual examination of Penrod, favouring him with an estimating

"Where do you buy your neckties? Papa gets his at Skoone's. You ought to get yours there. I'm sure the one

"Where do your people go in summer?" inquired the lady. "WE go to Long Shore, but so many middleclass

people have begun coming there, mamma thinks of leaving. The middle classes are simply awful, don't you

"We ran over to Paris last year. It's lovely, don't you think? Don't you LOVE the Rue de la Paix?"

Penrod wandered in a labyrinth. This girl seemed to be talking, but her words were dumfounding, and of

course there was no way for him to know that he was really listening to her mother. It was his first meeting

with one of those grownup little girls, wonderful product of the winter apartment and summer hotel; and

"I suppose," she went on, "I'll find everything here fearfully Western. Some nice people called yesterday,

though. Do you know the Magsworth Bittses? Auntie says they're charming. Will Roddy be at your party?"

"Good heavens! Don't you know what it means to say you're `great pals' with any one? You ARE an odd

This bit of ruffianism had a curious effect. Fanchon looked upon him with sudden favour.

"I like you, Penrod!" she said, in an odd way, and, whatever else there may have been in her manner, there

"Oh, Bugs!" This repetition may have lacked gallantry, but it was uttered in no very decided tone. Penrod was

Sailors' parrots swear like mariners, they say; and gay mothers ought to realize that all children are imitative,

for, as the precocious Fanchon leaned toward Penrod, the manner in which she looked into his eyes might

Penrod was even more confused than he had been by her previous mysteries: but his confusion was of a

distinctly pleasant and alluring nature: he wanted more of it. Looking intentionally into another person's eyes

is an act unknown to childhood; and Penrod's discovery that it could be done was sensational. He had never

Despite all anguish, contumely, tar, and Maurice Levy, he still secretly thought of Marjorie, with pathetic

constancy, as his "beau"though that is not how he would have spelled it. Marjorie was beautiful; her curls

were long and the colour of amber; her nose was straight and her freckles were honest; she was much prettier

She seemed to him a fairy creature from some rosier world than this. So humble is the human heart, it

glorifies and makes glamorous almost any poor thing that says to it: "I like you!"

Penrod was enslaved. He swallowed, coughed, scratched the back of his neck, and said, disjointedly:

He used his toe as a gimlet, boring into the ground, his wide open eyes staring with intense vacancy at a

His mother appeared upon the porch in departure, calling farewells over her shoulder to Mrs. Gelbraith, who

A dancing floor had been laid upon a platform in the yard, when Mrs. Schofield and her son arrived at their

own abode; and a white and scarlet striped canopy was in process of erection overhead, to shelter the dancers

from the sun. Workmen were busy everywhere under the direction of Margaret, and the smitten heart of

After lunch, he underwent an elaborate toilette and murmured not. For the first time in his life he knew the

wish to be sand papered, waxed, and polished to the highest possible degree. And when the operation was

over, he stood before the mirror in new bloom, feeling encouraged to hope that his resemblance to his father

The white gloves upon his hands had a pleasant smell, he found; and, as he came down the stairs, he had

great content in the twinkling of his new dancing slippers. He stepped twice on each step, the better to enjoy

their effect and at the same time he deeply inhaled the odour of the gloves. In spite of everything, Penrod had

his social capacities. Already it is to be perceived that there were in him the makings of a cotillon leader.

Then came from the yard a sound of tuning instruments, squeak of fiddle, croon of 'cello, a falling triangle

Chosen guests began to arrive, while Penrod, suffering from stagefright and perspiration, stood beside his

mother, in the "drawingroom," to receive them. He greeted unfamiliar acquaintances and intimate

fellowcriminals with the same frigidity, murmuring: "'M glad to see y'," to all alike, largely increasing the

embarrassment which always prevails at the beginning of children's festivities. His unnatural pomp and

circumstance had so thoroughly upset him, in truth, that Marjorie Jones received a distinct shock, now to be

related. Doctor Thrope, the kind old clergyman who had baptized Penrod, came in for a moment to

congratulate the boy, and had just moved away when it was Marjorie's turn, in the line of children, to speak to

Penrod. She gave him what she considered a forgiving look, and, because of the occasion, addressed him in a

"Thank you, sir!" he returned, following Dr. Thrope with a glassy stare in which there was absolutely no

recognition of Marjorie. Then he greeted Maurice Levy, who was next to Marjorie: "'M glad to see y'!"

Dumfounded, Marjorie turned aside, and stood near, observing Penrod with gravity. It was the first great

surprise of her life. Customarily, she had seemed to place his character somewhere between that of the

professional rioter and that of the orangoutang; nevertheless, her manner at times just hinted a

consciousness that this Caliban was her property. Wherefore, she stared at him incredulously as his head

bobbed up and down, in the dancingschool bow, greeting his guests. Then she heard an adult voice, near

Mariorie galanced upa little consciously, though she was used to itnaturally curious to ascertain who

was speaking of her. It was Sam Williams' mother addressing Mrs. Bassett, both being present to help Mrs.

Here was a second heavy surprise for Marjorie: they were not looking at her. They were looking with

beaming approval at a girl she had never seen; a dark and modish stranger of singularly composed and yet

modest aspect. Her downcast eyes, becoming in one thus entering a crowded room, were all that produced the

effect of modesty, counteracting something about her which might have seemed too assured. She was very

slender, very dainty, and her apparel was disheartening to the other girls; it was of a knowing picturesqueness

wholly unfamiliar to them. There was a delicate trace of powder upon the lobe of Fanchon's left ear, and the

outlines of her eyelids, if very closely scrutinized, would have revealed successful experimentation with a

Marjorie's lovely eyes dilated: she learned the meaning of hatred at first sight. Observing the stranger with

instinctive suspicion, all at once she seemed, to herself, awkward. Poor Marjorie underwent that experience

which hearty, healthy, little girls and big girls undergo at one time or anotherfrom heels to head she felt

Marjorie saw the blush. Her lovely eyes opened even wider, and in them there began to grow a light. It was

the light of indignation;at least, people whose eyes glow with that light always call it indignation.

Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, approached Fanchon, when she had made her courtesy to Mrs. Schofield.

Maurice Levy, captivated by the newcomer's appearance, pressed close to Roderick.

Roddy being either reluctant or unable to perform the rite, Fanchon took matters into her own hands, and was

presently favourably impressed with Maurice, receiving the information that his tie had been brought to him

by his papa from Skoone's, whereupon she privately informed him that she liked wavy hair, and arranged to

dance with him. Fanchon also thought sandy hair attractive, Sam Williams discovered, a few minutes later,

and so catholic was her taste that a ring of boys quite encircled her before the musicians in the yard struck up

their thrilling march, and Mrs. Schofield brought Penrod to escort the lady from outoftown to the dancing

Headed by this pair, the children sought partners and paraded solemnly out of the front door and round a

corner of the house. There they found the gay marquee; the small orchestra seated on the lawn at one side of

it, and a punch bowl of lemonade inviting attention, under a tree. Decorously the small couples stepped upon

"It's not much like a children's party in our day," Mrs. Williams said to Penrod's mother. "We'd have been

playing `Quakermeeting,' `Clapin, Clapout,' or `Going to Jerusalem,' I suppose."

"Yes, or `Postoffice' and `Dropthehandkerchief,'" said Mrs. Schofield. "Things change so quickly.

Imagine asking little Fanchon Gelbraith to play `London Bridge'! Penrod seems to be having a difficult time

However, Penrod's difficulty was not precisely of the kind his mother supposed. Fanchon was showing him a

new step, which she taught her next partner in turn, continuing instructions during the dancing. The children

crowded the floor, and in the kaleidoscopic jumble of bobbing heads and intermingling figures her extremely

different style of motion was unobserved by the older people, who looked on, nodding time benevolently.

Fanchon fascinated girls as well as boys. Many of the former eagerly sought her acquaintance and thronged

about her between the dances, when, accepting the deference due a cosmopolitan and an oracle of the mode,

she gave demonstrations of the new step to succeeding groups, professing astonishment to find it unknown: it

had been "all the go," she explained, at the Long Shore Casino for fully two seasons. She pronounced "slow"

a "Fancy Dance" executed during an intermission by Baby Rennsdale and Georgie Bassett, giving it as her

opinion that Miss Rennsdale and Mr. Bassett were "dead ones"; and she expressed surprise that the punch

The dancing continued, the new step gaining instantly in popularity, fresh couples adventuring with every

number. The word "step" is somewhat misleading, nothing done with the feet being vital to the evolutions

introduced by Fanchon. Fanchon's dance came from the Orient by a roundabout way; pausing in Spain, taking

on a Gallic frankness in gallantry at the Bal Bullier in Paris, combining with a relative from the South Seas

encountered in San Francisco, flavouring itself with a carefree negroid abandon in New Orleans, and,

accumulating, too, something inexpressible from Mexico and South America, it kept, throughout its travels,

to the underworld, or to circles where nature is extremely frank and rank, until at last it reached the dives of

New York, when it immediately broke out in what is called civilized society. Thereafter it spread, in

variously modified formssome of them disinfectedto wateringplaces, and thence, carried by hundreds

of older male and female Fanchons, over the country, being eagerly adopted everywhere and made wholly

pure and respectable by the supreme moral axiom that anything is all right if enough people do it. Everybody

Not quite everybody. It was perhaps some test of this dance that earth could furnish no more grotesque sight

Earth, assisted by Fanchon, was furnishing this sight at Penrod's party. By the time icecream and cake

arrived, about half the guests had either been initiated into the mysteries by Fanchon or were learning by

imitation, and the education of the other half was resumed with the dancing, when the attendant ladies,

"That orchestra's a dead one," Fanchon remarked to Penrod. "We ought to liven them up a little!"

The leader giggled, nodded, rapped with his bow upon his violin; and Penrod, following Fanchon back upon

the dancing floor, blindly brushed with his elbow a solitary little figure standing aloof on the lawn at the edge

In no mood to approve of anything introduced by Fanchon, she had scornfully refused, from the first, to

dance the new "step," and, because of its bonfire popularity, found herself neglected in a society where she

had reigned as beauty and belle. Faithless Penrod, dazed by the sweeping Fanchon, had utterly forgotten the

amber curls; he had not once asked Marjorie to dance. All afternoon the light of indignation had been

growing brighter in her eyes, though Maurice Levy's defection to the lady from New York had not fanned

this flame. From the moment Fanchon had whispered familiarly in Penrod's ear, and Penrod had blushed,

Marjorie had been occupied exclusively with resentment against that guilty pair. It seemed to her that Penrod

had no right to allow a strange girl to whisper in his ear; that his blushing, when the strange girl did it, was

Forgotten by the merrymakers, Marjorie stood alone upon the lawn, clenching her small fists, watching the

new dance at its high tide, and hating it with a hatred that made every inch of her tremble. And, perhaps

because jealousy is a great awakener of the virtues, she had a perception of something in it worse than lack of

dignitysomething vaguely but outrageously reprehensible. Finally, when Penrod brushed by her, touched

her with his elbow, and, did not even see her, Marjorie's state of mind (not unmingled with emotion!) became

dangerous. In fact, a trained nurse, chancing to observe her at this juncture, would probably have advised that

She saw Fanchon and Penrod assume the double embrace required by the dance; the "Slingo Sligo Slide"

burst from the orchestra like the lunatic shriek of a ginmaddened nigger; and all the little couples began to

The remarkable girl took Penrod by the ear. By his ear she swung him away from Fanchon and faced him

He was stunned; obeyed automatically, without question, and had very little realization of what was

happening to him. Altogether, and without reason, he was in precisely the condition of an elderly spouse

detected in flagrant misbehaviour. Marjorie, similarly, was in precisely the condition of the party who detects

such misbehaviour. It may be added that she had acted with a promptness, a decision and a disregard of social

consequences all to be commended to the attention of ladies in like predicament.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!" she raged, when they reached the lawn. "Aren't you ashamed of

"But what'd _I_ do, Marjorie? _I_ haven't done anything to you," he pleaded. "I haven't even seen you, all

"You be quiet!" she cried, tears filling her eyes. "Keep still! You ugly boy! Shut up!"

He should have understood from this how much she cared for him. But he rubbed his cheek and declared

His mother, his sister Margaret, and their grownup friends had finished their tea and were approaching from

the house. Other parents and guardians were with them, coming for their children; and there were carriages

and automobiles waiting in the street. But the "Slingo Slide" went on, regardless.

The group of grownup people hesitated and came to a halt, gazing at the pavilion.

"What are they doing?" gasped Mrs. Williams, blushing deeply. "What is it? What IS it?"

"They're Tangoing!" cried Margaret Schofield. "Or Bunny Hugging or Grizzly Bearing, or"

"Of course it was dreadful," said Mrs. Schofield, an hour later, rendering her lord an account of the day, "but

it was every bit the fault of that one extraordinary child. And of all the quiet, demur little thingsthat is, I

mean, when she first came. We all spoke of how exquisite she seemedso well trained, so finished! Eleven

"And to think of her saying there ought to have been champagne in the lemonade!"

"But aren't you proud of Penrod?" cried Penrod's mother. "It was just as I told you: he was standing clear

"I never thought to see the day! And Penrod was the only boy not doing it, the only one to refuse? ALL the

"Well," said Mr. Schofield, patting her on the shoulder. "I guess we can hold up our heads at last."

Penrod was out in the yard, staring at the empty marquee. The sun was on the horizon line, so far behind the

back fence, and a western window of the house blazed in gold unbearable to the eye: his day was nearly over.

He sighed, and took from the inside pocket of his new jacket the "slingshot" aunt Sarah Crim had given him

He snapped the rubbers absently. They held fast; and his next impulse was entirely irresistible. He found a

shapely stone, fitted it to the leather, and drew back the ancient catapult for a shot. A sparrow hopped upon a

branch between him and the house, and he aimed at the sparrow, but the reflection from the dazzling window

He missed the sparrow, but not the window. There was a loud crash, and to his horror he caught a glimpse of

his father, stricken in midshaving, ducking a shower of broken glass, glittering razor flourishing wildly.

Penrod stood petrified, a broken sling in his hand. He could hear his parent's booming descent of the back

stairs, instant and furious; and then, redhot above white lather, Mr. Schofield burst out of the kitchen door

"What do you mean?" he demanded, shaking Penrod by the shoulder. "Ten minutes ago, for the very first

time in our lives, your mother and I were saying we were proud of you, and here you go and throw a rock at

"I didn't!" Penrod quavered. "I was shooting at a sparrow, and the sun got in his eyes, and the sling

"Where'd you get that devilish thing? Don't you know I've forbidden you a thousand times"

"Yes, sir," said the boy meekly. "Aunt Sarah Crim gave it to me this morning and told me to give it back to

you. She said she took it away from you thirtyfive years ago. You killed her hen, she said. She told me some

He took the broken sling in his hand, looked at it long and thoughtfullyand he looked longer, and quite as

Mr. Schofield coughed, and, as he reached the door, called back, but without turning his head.

When he had gone in, Penrod wandered down the yard to the back fence, climbed upon it, and sat in reverie

"I caught Billy Blue Hill!" shouted Sam, describing retribution in a manner perfectly clear to his friend. "You

"Well, so long!" called Sam, dropping from his fence; and the friendly voice came then, more faintly, "Many

And now, a plaintive little whine sounded from below Penrod's feet, and, looking down, he saw that Duke,

The last shaft of sunshine of that day fell graciously and like a blessing upon the boy sitting on the fence.

Years afterward, a quiet sunset would recall to him sometimes the gentle evening of his twelfth birthday, and

bring him the picture of his boy self, sitting in rosy light upon the fence, gazing pensively down upon his

wistful, scraggly, little old dog, Duke. But something else, surpassing, he would remember of that hour, for,

in the side street, close by, a pink skirt flickered from behind a shade tree to the shelter of the fence, there was

a gleam of amber curls, and Penrod started, as something like a tiny white wing fluttered by his head, and

there came to his ears the sound of a light laugh and of light footsteps departing, the laughter tremulous, the

In the grass, between Duke's forepaws, there lay a white note, folded in the shape of a cocked hat, and the sun