During this time two wet delivery-wagons and four elderly women under umbrellas were all that crossed his field of vision.

Somewhere in the world, he thought, there was probably a boy who lived across the street from a jail or a fire-engine house, and had windows worth looking out of.
Penrod rubbed his nose up and down the pane slowly, continuously, and without the slightest pleasure; and he again scratched himself wherever it was possible to do so, though he did not even itch.

There was nothing in his life.
Such boredom as he was suffering can become agony, and an imaginative creature may do wild things to escape it; many a grown person has taken to drink on account of less pressure than was upon Penrod during that intolerable Saturday.
A faint sound in his ear informed him that Della, in the kitchen, had uttered a loud exclamation, and he decided to go back there.

However, since his former visit had resulted in a rebuff that still rankled, he paused outside the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar, and listened.
He did this idly, and with no hope of hearing anything interesting or helpful.
"Snakes!" Della exclaimed.

"Didja say the poor man was seein' snakes, Mrs.Cullen ?" "No, Della," Mrs.Cullen returned dolorously; "jist one.