nalism. Herman was prodigal of gesture with his
right hand; and Verman, chuckling with delight, talked fluently,
though somewhat consciously. They cheerfully agreed to keep the
raccoon--already beginning to be mentioned as "our 'coon" by Penrod--in
Mr. Schofield's empty stable, and, when the animal had been chained to
the wall near the box of rats and supplied with a pan of fair water,
they assented to their new friend's suggestion (inspired by a fine
sense of the artistic harmonies) that the heretofore nameless pet be
christened Sherman, in honour of their deceased relative.

At this juncture was heard from the front yard the sound of that
yodelling which is the peculiar accomplishment of those whose voices
have not "changed." Penrod yodelled a response; and Mr. Samuel Williams
appeared, a large bundle under his arm.

"Yay, Penrod!" was his greeting, casual enough from without; but, having
entered, he stopped short and emitted a prodigious whistle. "YA-A-AY!"
he then shouted. "Look at the 'coon!"

"I guess you better say, 'Look at the 'coon!'" Penrod returned proudly.
"They's a good deal more'n him to look at, too. Talk some, Verman."
Verman complied.

Sam was warmly interested. "What'd you say his name was?" he asked.

"Verman."

"How d'you spell it?"

"V-e-r-m-a-n," replied Penrod, having previously received this
information from Herman.

"Oh!" said Sam.

"Point to sumpthing, Herman," Penrod commanded, and Sam's excitement,
when Herman pointed was sufficient to the occasion.

Penrod, the discoverer, continued his exploitation of the manifold
wonders of the Sherman, Herman, and Verman collection. With the air of
a proprietor he escorted Sam into the alley for a good look at Queenie
(who seemed not to care for her increasing celebrity) and proceeded to
a dramatic climax--the recital of the episode of the pitchfork and its
consequences.

The cumulative effect was enormous, and could have but one possible
result. The normal boy is always at least one half Barnum.

"Let's get up a SHOW!"

Penrod and Sam both claimed to have said it first, a question left
unsettled in the ecstasies of hurried preparation. The bundle under
Sam's arm, brought with no definite purpose, proved to have been
an inspiration. It consisted of broad sheets of light yellow
wrapping-paper, discarded by Sam's mother in her spring house-cleaning.
There were half-filled cans and buckets of paint in the storeroom
adjoining the carriage-h