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Updated: July 28, 2025
Now Penrod was on top, now Sam; they rolled, they squirmed, they suffered. And this contest endured. It went on and on, and it was impossible to imagine its coming to a definite termination. It went on so long that to both the participants it seemed to be a permanent thing, a condition that had always existed and that must always exist perpetually.
Blakely, would you mind opening a window?" "By all means!" the young man responded earnestly, as he rose. "Maybe I'd better open two?" "Yes," said Margaret; "that would be much better." But Penrod watched Mr. Blakely open two windows to their widest, and betrayed no anxiety.
They tell me you're the Worst Boy in Town." "Oh, Aunt Sarah!" Mrs. Schofield lifted a protesting hand. "Nonsense!" said Mrs. Crim. "But on his birthday!" "That's the time to say it. Penrod, aren't you the Worst Boy in Town?" Penrod, gazing fondly upon his knife and eating cookies rapidly, answered as a matter of course, and absently, "Yes'm." "Certainly!" said Mrs. Crim.
He was still subject to hilarity though endeavouring to suppress it by means of a patent-leather slipper when Penrod closed the door. "There!" said Penrod, leading the way from the room. "I guess NOW you see!" Sam said nothing, and they came out to the open air and reached their retreat in the Williams' yard again, without his having acknowledged Penrod's service to their mutual cause.
Nor was music the root of it, for the identical desire is often uproarious among them that hate music. What stirred in Penrod was new neither in him nor in the world, but old old as old Adam, old as the childishness of man. All children have it, of course: they are all anxious to Make a Noise in the World.
Megaphones were constructed out of heavy wrapping-paper, 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.
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 self-levitation.
At intervals his mother, without turning her head, would whisper, "Sit up, Penrod," causing him to sigh profoundly and move his shoulders about an inch, this mere gesture of compliance exhausting all the energy that remained to him. The black backs and gray heads of the elderly men in the congregation oppressed him; they made him lethargic with a sense of long lives of repellent dullness.
Well, she'll give me a pair I wore for summer; honest she will, and you can put 'em on as quick as anything." "There, Herman," said Sam; "now you're all right again!" "WHO all right?" Herman complained. "I like feel sump'm' roun' my laigs befo' no five o'clock!" "Well, you're sure to get 'em by then," Penrod promised. "It ain't winter yet, Herman.
"Did you look in the sawdust-box?" "No, I didn't." "Then that's where they are." Thus, in the early twilight, the now historic stable was approached by two fathers charged to do the only thing to be done. They entered the storeroom. "Penrod!" said Mr. Schofield. "Sam!" said Mr. Williams. Nothing disturbed the twilight hush. But by means of a ladder, brought from the carriage-house, Mr.
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