Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1915-08-12
CHAPTER XXI.
Twelve.


and as intent upon it's own af-
fair, whatever that is, as a gy
roscope. 1t keeps steadily whirling
along it's lawful track, and, thus far
seeming to hold a right Of way, spins
doggedly on, with no perceptible dimi-
mutton Of speed to mark the most gi-
gantic human events. 1t did not pause
to pant and recuperate even when
what seemed to Penrod it's principal
purpose was accomplished, and an enOr-
nous shadow, vanishing westward
over it's surface, marked the dawn of
his twelfth birthday.
To be twelve is an attainment worth
the struggle. A boy, just twelve, is
like a Frenchman just elected to the
academy.
Distinction and honor wait upon him.
Younger boys show Difference to per-
son Of twelve. His experience is guar
anteed, his judgment, therefore, mel
low; consequently. his influence is pro-
found. Eleven is not quite satisfac-
tory. 1t is only an approach. Eleven
has the disadvantage of six, of nine
teen, of forty-four and of sixty-nine.
But like twelve seven is an honOra BILE
age, and the ambition to attain it is
! laudable. People look forward to be-
ing seven. Similarly, twenty is worthy,
and so, arbitrarily, is twenty-one; for
ty-fve has great solidity; seventy is
thereafter an increasing honor. Thir-
teen is embarrassed by the beginnings
Of a new colthood. The child becomes
youth. But twelve is the very top of
boyhOod.
Dressing that morning, Penrod felt
that the world was changed from the
world of yesterday. For one thing, he
seemed to own more Of it. This day
was his day. And it was a day worth
owning. The midsummer sunshine,
pouring gold through his window, came
! from a cool sky, and breeze moved
pleasantly in his hair as he leaned
from the sill to watch the tribe of
chattering blackbirds take wing, fol-
lowing their leader from the trees in
the yard to the days work in the open
, country. The blackbirds were his, as
the sunshine and the breeze were his,
for they all belonged to the day. which
was his birthday and therefore most
surely his. Pride suffused him. He
was twelve!
His father and his mother and Mar
, garet seemed to understand the differ
ence between today and yesterday.
They were at the table when he de-
scended, and they gave him a greeting
which of itself marked the milestone.
Habitually his entrance into a room
where his elders sat brought cloud Of
=, apprehension. They were prone to
look up in pathetic expectancy, as If
their thought was, "What new awful
ness Is he going to start now?" But
this morning they laughed. His moth
er rose and kissed him twelve times.
So did Margaret. And his father
shouted: "Well. we'll! How's the
man."
Then his mother gave him a Bible
, and "The Vicar Of Wakefield" Marga-
ret gave him pair Of silver mounted
hairbrushes, and his father gave him
POCKET Atlas" and small compass.
And now, Penrod," said his mother
after breakfast, I'm going to take you
out in the country to pay your birth
day respects to Aunt Sarah Grim"
Aunt Sarah Grim, Penrod's great.
! aunt, was his oldest living relative.
She was ninety, and when Mrs. Scho-
field and Penrod alighted from a car
riage at her gate they found her dig
ging with a spade in the garden.
"I'm glad you brought him." she said.
desisting from labor. "Jinny's bak-
ing cake I'm going to send for his
birthday party. Bring him In the
house. I've got something for him."
She led the way to her sitting ROOM"
which had pleasant smell. unlike any
other smell. and opening the drawer of
a shining old whatnot took therefrom
boys ''slingshot," made of forked
stick, two strips Of rubber and bit
Of leather.
"This isn't for you," she said. plac-
ing it in Periods eager hand. mo.
1t would break all to pieces the first
time You tried to shoot it because 1t Is