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Updated: May 28, 2025
Come again to-morrow morning and I'll be on the corner. Bring your 'cordion!" And she ran into the house, Mitchy-Mitch waving a loving hand to the boy on the sidewalk until the front door closed. 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.
In spite of the candy which he had consumed in company with Marjorie and Mitchy-Mitch, Penrod had begun to eat lobster croquettes earnestly. "Who WAS he?" "Who do you mean, papa?" "The man that gave you that ghastly Thing!" "Yessir. A man gave it to me." "I say, Who WAS he?" shouted Mr. Schofield.
When Marjorie and Mitchy-Mitch 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.
Marjorie cried, and put Mitchy-Mitch 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 closed. "That's nothin'," returned Penrod, keeping his eye uneasily upon Mitchy-Mitch. "I know plenty people been better places than that Chicago and everywhere."
How sacred the sweet little baby brother, whose privilege it was to cling to that small hand, delicately powdered with freckles. "Hello, Marjorie," said Penrod, affecting carelessness. "Hello!" said Marjorie, with unexpected cordiality. She bent over her baby brother with motherly affectations. "Say 'howdy' to the gentymuns, Mitchy-Mitch," she urged sweetly, turning him to face Penrod.
"DOCTOR!" She whirled upon him, her lovely eyes blazing. "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 Mitchy-Mitch " "What?" "Yes, and he's sick in bed YET!" Marjorie went on, with unabated fury.
Mitchy-Mitch shouted with delight and applied a finger to the side of the caldron a finger immediately snatched away and wiped upon a handkerchief by his fastidious sister. "'Ittle gellamun!" said Mitchy-Mitch. "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.
Mitchy-Mitch, to emphasize his disapproval of the accordion, opening his mouth still wider, lost therefrom the jaw-breaker, 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 jaw-breaker; but Mitchy-Mitch struck it from his hand, desiring the former, which had convinced him of its sweetness.
The noon whistles failed to disturb this little Arcady; only the sound of Mrs. Jones' voice for the third time summoning Marjorie and Mitchy-Mitch to lunch sent Penrod on his way. "I could come back this afternoon, I guess," he said, in parting. "I'm not goin' to be here. I'm goin' to Baby Rennsdale's party." Penrod looked blank, as she intended he should.
"And papa says if he ever catches you in this part of town " "WHAT'D I do to Mitchy-Mitch?" gasped Penrod. "You know well enough what you did to Mitchy-Mitch!" she cried. "You gave him that great, big, nasty two-cent piece!" "Well, what of it?" "Mitchy-Mitch swallowed it!" "What!" "And papa says if he ever just lays eyes on you, once, in this neighbourhood " But Penrod had started for home.
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