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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.
Fleetly he fled, pursued as far as the gate by the whole body of Penrod, and thereafter by Penrod's voice alone. "You BETTER run! You wait till I catch you! You'll see what you get next time! Don't you ever speak to me again as long as you " Here he paused abruptly, for great-uncle Slocum had recovered his hat and was returning toward the gate.
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 house-cleaning 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.
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 Jones ay! this was their next meeting, and such is Eros, young!
They tiptoed back, and up the inner stairs. They paused at the top, then breathlessly stepped out into a hall which was entirely dark. Sam touched Penrod's sleeve in warning, and bent to listen at a door. Immediately that door opened, revealing the bright library, where sat Penrod's mother and Sam's father. It was Sam's mother who had opened the door. "Come into the library, boys," she said. "Mrs.
"He hoe me hoo," remarked Verman. "Yessuh, I tole him to," said Herman, "an' he chop 'er off, an' ey ain't airy oth' one evuh grown on wheres de ole one use to grow. Nosuh!" "But what'd you tell him to do it for?" "Nothin'. I 'es' said it 'at way an' he jes' chop er off!" Both brothers looked pleased and proud. Penrod's profound interest was flatteringly visible, a tribute to their unusualness.
The bored Sam made no response other than to rise languidly to his feet, stretch, and start for home. Left alone, Penrod's practice became less ardent; he needed the stimulus of an auditor. With the horn upon his lap he began to rub the greenish brass surface with a rag. He meant to make this good ole two-dollar horn of his LOOK like sumpthing!
"It's all right what I'd DO! I bet they wouldn't want to call me that again long as they lived!" "What'd you do if it was a little girl? You wouldn't hit her, would you?" "Well, I'd Ouch!" "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.
"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 hard-pressing knuckle. "I was only in fun, Rupie," pleaded the sufferer, and then, being set free, "Come here, Sam," he said. "What for?" Penrod laughed pityingly. "Pshaw, I ain't goin' to hurt you. Come on."
"I don't I don't like it much down here, Penrod." Penrod's hoarse whisper came from the profound gloom: "Well, who ever said you did?" "Well " Sam paused; then he said plaintively, "I wish we'd never seen that dern ole horse." "It was every bit his fault," said Penrod. "We didn't do anything. If he hadn't come stickin' his ole head in our stable, it'd never happened at all. Ole fool!" He rose.