Penrod moved uneasily in his chair; he was conscious that he was her topic but unable to make out whether or not her observations were complimentary; he inclined to think they were not. Mrs. Crim settled the question for him.
"I suppose Penrod is regarded as the neighbourhood curse?"
"Oh, no," cried Mrs. Schofield. "He"
"I dare say the neighbours are right," continued the old lady placidly. "He's had to repeat the history of the race and go through all the stages from the primordial to barbarism. You don't expect boys to be civilized, do you?"
"Well, I"
"You might as well expect eggs to crow. No; you've got to take boys as they are, and learn to know them as they are."
"Naturally, Aunt Sarah," said Mrs. Schofield, "I know Penrod."
Aunt Sarah laughed heartily. "Do you think his father knows him, too?"
"Of course, men are different," Mrs. Schofield returned, apologetically. "But a mother knows"
"Penrod," said Aunt Sarah, solemnly, "does your father understand you?"
