“Believe me, it’ll be great,” he said.
“The Elks will have some training to do, that’s one thing,” I said.
“He’ll learn soon enough, all right,” Westy answered.
“I guess it would be a good stunt to have a flag sticking up out of his collar,” I said; “he won’t mind, he’ll just smile. He doesn’t get mad, that’s one good thing about him.”
“I like to see that smile, don’t you?” Westy said, “it’s kind of bashful like.”
“He’s going to pan out all right,” I said, “you take it from me.”
Then we said how it might be good to put him in a barrel and mark it “A gift from Barrel Alley,” but we decided not to because it might make him feel so kind of bashful and scared—you know what I mean.
All the while I knew what I was going to say, and this was it:
Scouts of the Elk Patrol, we present you with this testimonial (my sister said that was a good word to use) of our steam—I mean esteem. You get fifty green trading stamps besides. This youth is positively guaranteed to grow, if kept in the sun and to win the pathfinder’s badge before the summer is out. He is made of fast colors and will not run—except when he’s tracking. He should be kept away from explosives such as Pee-wee Harris.
With love and kisses from the