her was bitterer to endure than from any other. "Don't you call me that again!"
"Why not, little gentleman?"
He stamped his foot. "You better stop!"
Marjorie sent into his furious face her lovely, spiteful laughter.
"Little gentleman, little gentleman, little gentleman!" she said deliberately. "How's the little gentleman, this afternoon? Hello, little gentleman!'
Penrod, quite beside himself, danced eccentrically. "Dry up!" he howled. "Dry up, dry up, dry up, dry up!"
Mitchy-Mitch shouted with delight and applied a finger to the side of the caldron—a finger immediately snatched away and wiped upon a handkerchief by his fastidious sister.
"'Ittle gellamun!" said Mitchy-Mitch.
"You better look out!" Penrod whirled upon this small offender with grim satisfaction. Here was at least something male that could without dishonour be held responsible. "You say that again, and I'll give you the worst"
"You will not!" snapped Marjorie, instantly vitriolic. "He'll say just whatever he wants to,
