for their children; and there were
carriages and automobiles waiting in the street. But the "Slingo Slide"
went on, regardless.

The group of grown-up people hesitated and came to a halt, gazing at the
pavilion.

"What are they doing?" gasped Mrs. Williams, blushing deeply. "What is
it? What IS it?"

"WHAT IS IT?" Mrs. Gelbraith echoed in a frightened whisper. "WHAT----"

"They're Tangoing!" cried Margaret Schofield. "Or Bunny Hugging or
Grizzly Bearing, or----"

"They're only Turkey Trotting," said Robert Williams.

With fearful outcries the mothers, aunts, and sisters rushed upon the
pavilion.

"Of course it was dreadful," said Mrs. Schofield, an hour later,
rendering her lord an account of the day, "but it was every bit the
fault of that one extraordinary child. And of all the quiet, demur
little things--that is, I mean, when she first came. We all spoke of how
exquisite she seemed--so well trained, so finished! Eleven years old! I
never saw anything like her in my life!"

"I suppose it's the New Child," her husband grunted.

"And to think of her saying there ought to have been champagne in the
lemonade!"

"Probably she'd forgotten to bring her pocket flask," he suggested
musingly.

"But aren't you proud of Penrod?" cried Penrod's mother. "It was just as
I told you: he was standing clear outside the pavilion----"

"I never thought to see the day! And Penrod was the only boy not doing
it, the only one to refuse? ALL the others were----"

"Every one!" she returned triumphantly. "Even Georgie Bassett!"

"Well," said Mr. Schofield, patting her on the shoulder. "I guess we can
hold up our heads at last."

CHAPTER XXXI OVER THE FENCE

Penrod was out in the yard, staring at the empty marquee. The sun was on
the horizon line, so far behind the back fence, and a western window of
the house blazed in gold unbearable to the eye: his day was nearly
over. He sighed, and took from the inside pocket of his new jacket the
"sling-shot" aunt Sarah Crim had given him that morning.

He snapped the rubbers absently. They held fast; and his next impulse
was entirely irresistible. He found a shapely stone, fitted it to the
leather, and drew back the ancient catapult for a shot. A sparrow hopped
upon a branch between him and the house, and he aimed at the sparrow,
but the reflection from the dazzling window struck in his eyes as he
loosed the leather.

He missed the sparrow, but not the window. There was a loud c