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Updated: June 10, 2025
"Think I'd spend all my days starin' at Herbert Illingsworth Atwater, Junior, and that nasty little Henry Rooter, and call it amusement?" "Then why do you do it?" "Why do I do what, mamma?" Florence inquired, as in despair of Mrs. Atwater's ever learning to put things clearly. "Why do you 'spend all your days' watching them?
Florence cried incredulously. "Yes, I really do, Florence. I think Herbert Atwater and Henry Rooter have got the nicest eyes of any boy in town." "Well, I never heard anything like this before!" Florence declared. "But don't you think they've got the nicest eyes of any boy in town?" Patty insisted, appealingly. "I think," said Florence, "their eyes are just horrable!" "What?"
"That's the way to talk to her; take it or leave it, Florence. If you don't take it you got to leave it." Florence was indignant, but she decided to take it. "All right," she said coldly. "I wouldn't pay another cent if I died for it." "Well, you haven't got another cent, so that's all right," Mr. Rooter remarked; and he honourably extended an open palm toward his partner.
The eleventh inning saw no difference in the prevailing score, which after both clubs had had a turn at bat remained the same, eight to eight. "Why, anything is possible with those two boys going as strong as they are right now," the Belleville rooter was saying. "That pitcher of yours, Scranton, is no slouch, believe me.
"What you want to talk over here for?" she asked as she came near her friend. "Oh, I don't know," said Patty. "Let's go out in the front yard." She led the way round the house, and a moment later uttered a cry of surprise as the firm of Atwater & Rooter, passing along the pavement, hesitated at the gate.
"You just walk down town and go in any Newspaper Buildings down there and tell 'em you got a right to stay there all day long when they tell you to get out o' there! Just try it! That's all I ask!" Florence uttered a cry of derision. "And pray, whoever told you I was bound to do everything you ask me to, Mister Henry Rooter?"
"Florence did? Where'd you see Florence?" Mr. Rooter swallowed. "A little while ago," he said, and again swallowed. "On the way home from school." "Look look here!" Herbert was flurried to the point of panic. "Henry did Florence did she go and tell you did she tell you ?" "I didn't hardly notice what she was talkin' about," Henry said doggedly.
At this, Henry Rooter loudly shouted with applausive hilarity; whereupon Herbert, rather surprised at his own effectiveness, naturally repeated his waggery. "Say not so, Florence! Say not so! Say not so!" "I'll tell you one thing!" his lady cousin cried, thoroughly infuriated.
"Well, pray kindly excuse me!" said Miss Atwater; and she added that she would neither sit on the same steps with Herbert Atwater and Henry Rooter, nor, even if they entreated her with accompanying genuflections, would she have anything else whatever to do with them.
Now that fellow Sidi bin Tagim in the hospital is an honest old kite in his way. He's a great rooter for Feisul. And the only easy way to ditch a man like Feisul, who's as honest as the day is long, and no man's fool, is to convince his fanatical admirers that for his own sake he ought to be forced along a certain course. The game's as old as Adam.
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