chivalrous Penrod. "I bet I'd fix her though, all right. She'd see!"
"You wouldn't call her names, would you?"
"No, I wouldn't! What hurt is it to call anybody names?"
"Is that so!" exclaimed the barber. "Then you was intending what I heard you hollering at Fisher's grocery delivery wagon driver fer a favour, the other day when I was goin' by your house, was you? I reckon I better tell him, because he says to me afterwerds if he ever lays eyes on you when you ain't in your own yard, he's goin' to do a whole lot o' things you ain't goin' to like! Yessir, that's what he says to me!"
"He better catch me first, I guess, before he talks so much."
"Well," resumed the barber, "that ain't sayin' what you'd do if a young lady ever walked up and called you a little gentleman. I want to hear what you'd do to her. I guess I know, though—come to think of it."
"What?" demanded Penrod.
"You'd sick that pore ole dog of yours on her cat, if she had one, I expect," guessed the barber derisively.
