scrape the paint off, either—nor whittle your shoe with it. Couldn't you put it up until we get home?"
"We goin' straight home?"
"No. We're going to stop at Mrs. Gelbraith's and ask a strange little girl to come to your party, this afternoon."
"Who?"
"Her name is Fanchon. She's Mrs. Gelbraith's little niece."
"What makes her so queer?"
"I didn't say she's queer."
"You said"
"No; I mean that she is a stranger. She lives in New York and has come to visit here."
"What's she live in New York for?"
"Because her parents live there. You must be very nice to her, Penrod; she has been very carefully brought up. Besides, she doesn't know the children here, and you must help to keep her from feeling lonely at your party."
"Yes'm."
When they reached Mrs. Gelbraith's, Penrod sat patiently humped upon a gilt chair during the lengthy exchange of greetings between his mother and Mrs. Gelbraith. That is one of the things a boy must
