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Updated: June 16, 2025
That concluded all the remarks about Swinburne. Miss Beam retired in confusion behind another lady; and somehow there became diffused an impression that Miss Beam was erotic. "I do not observe your manly little son," Mr. Kinosling addressed his hostess. "He's out playing in the yard," Mrs. Bassett returned. "I heard his voice just now, I think."
He lifted his hand to take the hat off, and entered upon a strange experience: his hat seemed to have decided to remain where it was. "Do you like Tennyson as much as Longfellow, Mr. Kinosling?" inquired Margaret. "I ah I cannot say," he returned absently. "I ah each has his own ugh! flavour and savour, each his ah ah "
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 iron or perhaps a ragman had passed the house, just before he woke.
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 tar all over him." "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.
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.
"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.
Schofield, and after a glance at Penrod which confirmed her impression that he intended to say something, she continued, "Yes, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful beautiful!" Penrod closed his mouth and sank back in his chair and his relatives took breath. Mr. Kinosling looked pleased. This responsive family, with its ready enthusiasm, made the kind of audience he liked.
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 expression which, to the perception of his family, was perfectly horrible caused not the faintest perturbation in the breast of Mr. Kinosling. 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.
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.
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