stily rolled up, had
descended with a distinctively elephantine effect, as Margaret had
observed. Certainly, the Child Sir Lancelot was at least a sight.

It is probable that a great many in that hall must have had, even then,
a consciousness that they were looking on at History in the Making.
A supreme act is recognizable at sight: it bears the birthmark of
immortality. But Penrod, that marvellous boy, had begun to declaim, even
with the gesture of flinging off his mantle for the accolade:

"I first, the Child Sir Lancelot du Lake,
Will volunteer to knighthood take,
And kneeling here before your throne
I vow to----"

He finished his speech unheard. The audience had recovered breath, but
had lost self-control, and there ensued something later described by a
participant as a sort of cultured riot.

The actors in the "pageant" were not so dumfounded by Penrod's costume
as might have been expected. A few precocious geniuses perceived
that the overalls were the Child Lancelot's own comment on maternal
intentions; and these were profoundly impressed: they regarded him with
the grisly admiration of young and ambitious criminals for a jail-mate
about to be distinguished by hanging. But most of the children simply
took it to be the case (a little strange, but not startling) that
Penrod's mother had dressed him like that--which is pathetic. They tried
to go on with the "pageant."

They made a brief, manful effort. But the irrepressible outbursts from
the audience bewildered them; every time Sir Lancelot du Lake the Child
opened his mouth, the great, shadowy house fell into an uproar, and the
children into confusion. Strong women and brave girls in the audience
went out into the lobby, shrieking and clinging to one another. Others
remained, rocking in their seats, helpless and spent. The neighbourhood
of Mrs. Schofield and Margaret became, tactfully, a desert. Friends of
the author went behind the scenes and encountered a hitherto unknown
phase of Mrs. Lora Rewbush; they said, afterward, that she hardly seemed
to know what she was doing. She begged to be left alone somewhere with
Penrod Schofield, for just a little while.

They led her away.

CHAPTER VI EVENING

The sun was setting behind the back fence (though at a considerable
distance) as Penrod Schofield approached that fence and looked
thoughtfully up at the top of it, apparently having in mind some purpose
to climb up and sit there. Debati