"My name's Penrod Schofield." "Then I reckon your father and mother ain't got good sense," said Mr.
Collins promptly, this also being formula.
"Why ?" "'Cause if they had they'd of give you a good name!" And the agreeable youth instantly rewarded himself for the wit with another yell of rasping laughter, after which he pointed suddenly at Penrod's right hand.
"Where'd you get that wart on your finger ?" he demanded severely.
"Which finger ?" asked the mystified Penrod, extending his hand.
"The middle one." "Where ?" "There!" exclaimed Rupe Collins, seizing and vigorously twisting the wartless finger naively offered for his inspection.
"Quit!" shouted Penrod in agony.

"QUEE-yut!" "Say your prayers!" commanded Rupe, and continued to twist the luckless finger until Penrod writhed to his knees.
"OW!" The victim, released, looked grievously upon the still painful finger.
At this Rupe's scornful expression altered to one of contrition.

"Well, I declare!" he exclaimed remorsefully.

"I didn't s'pose it would hurt.
Turn about's fair play; so now you do that to me." He extended the middle finger of his left hand and Penrod promptly seized it, but did not twist it, for he was instantly swung round with his back to his amiable new acquaintance: Rupe's right hand operated upon the back of Penrod's slender neck; Rupe's knee tortured the small of Penrod's back.
"OW!" Penrod bent far forward involuntarily and went to his knees again.
"Lick dirt," commanded Rupe, forcing the captive's face to the sidewalk; and the suffering Penrod completed this ceremony.
Mr.Collins evinced satisfaction by means of his horse laugh.
"You'd last jest about one day up at the Third!" he said.

"You'd come runnin' home, yellin' 'MOM-MUH, MOM-muh,' before recess was over!" "No, I wouldn't," Penrod protested rather weakly, dusting his knees.
"You would, too!" "No, I w---- "Looky here," said the fat-faced boy, darkly, "what you mean, counterdicking me ?" He advanced a step and Penrod hastily qualified his contradiction.
"I mean, I don't THINK I would.