“Whassat?”
Mrs. Schofield replied in tones honeysweet and coaxing: “It's just a nice little pill, Penrod.”
“Doe waw 'ny!” he protested, keeping his eyes shut, clinging to the sleep from which he was being riven.
“Be a good boy, Penrod,” she whispered. “Here's a glass of nice cool water to swallow it down with. Come, dear; it's going to do you lots of good.”
And again the little pill was placed suggestively against his lips; but his head jerked backward, and his hand struck out in blind, instinctive self-defense.
“I'll BUST that ole pill,” he muttered, still with closed eyes. “Lemme get my han's on it an' I will!”
“Penrod!”
“PLEASE go on away, mamma!”
“I will, just as soon as you take this little pill.”
“I DID!”