There was an open transom over the door, and from this descended--hurled by an unseen agency--a can half filled with old paint. It caught the small besieger of the door on his thoroughly surprised right ear, encouraged him to some remarkable acrobatics, and turned large portions of him a dull blue. Allowing only a moment to perplexity, and deciding, after a single and evidently unappetizing experiment, not to cleanse himself of paint, the loyal animal resumed his quaint, upright posture. Mr. Schofield seated himself on the window-sill, whence he could keep in view that pathetic picture of unrequited love. "Go on with your story, mamma," he said. "I think I can find Penrod when we want him." And a few minutes later he added, "And I think I know the place to do it in." Again the faithful voice of Duke was heard, pleading outside the bolted door.The school week was over, at last, but Penrod's troubles were not. Round and round the ballroom went the seventeen struggling little couples of the Friday Afternoon Dancing Class. Round and round went their reflections with them, swimming rhythmically in the polished, dark floor--white and blue and pink for the girls; black, with dabs of white, for the white-collared, white-gloved boys; and sparks and slivers of high light everywhere as the glistening pumps flickered along the surface like a school of flying fish. Every small pink face--with one exception--was painstaking and set for duty. It was a conscientious little merry-go-round. "One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! One-two-th--Ha! Mister Penrod Schofield, you lose the step. Your left foot! No, no! This is the left! See--like me! Now again! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! Better! Much better! Again! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! Mr. Penrod Schofield, your right foot--your right foot! No, no! Stop!" The merry-go-round came to a standstill. "Mr. Penrod Schofield and partner"--Professor Bartet wiped his brow--"will you kindly observe me? One-two-three--glide! So! Now then--no; you will please keep your places, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Penrod Schofield, I would puttickly like your attention, this is for you!" "Pickin' on me again!" murmured the smouldering Penrod to his small, unsympathetic partner. "Can't let me alone a
Prev.
Back
Top