Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-07-01

EIO be twelve is an attainment
worth the struggle. A boy
Just twelve 10 like a French
q man just elected to the Acad-
envy
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; it is only an approach. Eleven
has the disadvantages of six. of nine
teen. of forty-four and of sixty-nine.
Thirteen is embarrassed by the begin
nings of a new colthood; the child
becomes youth. But twelve is the
very top of boShood.
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 a breeze moved
pleasantly in his hair as hs leaned
from the sill to watch the trioe 90, OF
lowing their leader from the trees IN
the yard to the days work In the open
country. Pride suffused him; ne was
twelve.
His father and his mother and Mar
garet seemed to understand the diner
ence between today and yesterday.
They were at the table when ne oe-
seconded. and they gave him a greetins
which, of itself. marked the milestone.
Habitually his entrance into room
where his elders sat brought cloud
of apprehension. But this morning they
laughed: his mother rose Sc, ana a. aSet
him twelve times: so did MargareI;;
and his father shouted: WE'LL Well
How's the mani?
Then his mother gave him Bible
and THE Vicar of Waketield; Mar
ed hairbrushes and his father gave
him a pocket atlas and small COM
pass.
after breakfast. "Tm going to take you
out in the country to pay your birth
Aunt. Sarah Grim, Penrod's great
aunt was his oldest living ere rsla tns shs
and Penrod alighted from a carriage at
her gate, they found her digging with
a spade in the garden.
I'm glad you brought him." she sald.
desisting from labor. "Jimmy's baking
q cake I'm going to send for his birth
day party. Bring him in the house;
I've got something for him"
She led the way to her stttingroom,
o..
old whatnot. took therefrom a boys
sling-shot made of forked stick. two
strips of rubber. and bit Of leather.
This isn't for YOU" she said. .p placing
would break all to pieces the first time
you tried to shoot it. because 1t Is
thirty-hve years old. want to send it
back to your father. think it's time
You give 1t to him from me and tel, tel
with it now. I took 1t away from him
thirty-flve years ago, one day after he'd
killed my best hen with 1t accidentally,
and broken glass pitcher on the back
porch with accidentally. He doesn't
look like a person who's ever done
things of that sort. and I suppose he's
forgotten it SO well that he believes he
never did: but II you give 1t to him
from me. I think he'll remember. You
look like him. Penrod. He was any
thing but handsome boy"
After this final bit of Renaissance,
she disappeared in the direction Of the
kitchen. and returned with pitcher of
lemonade. and blue-china dish sweetly
freighted with fiat ginger cookies of a
composition that was her own secret.
Then. having set this light collation. be-
fore her guests, she presented Penrod
with a superb, intricate, and very mod
ern machine of destructive capacities
almost limitless. She called 1t pocket
knife.
II suppose you'll do something hor-
rible with It," she said composedly. II
hear you do that with everything, any
how; SO you might as well do 1t with
this and have moro fun out Of 1t. They
tell me you're the worst boy in town."
-Oh. Aunt SARAH" Mrs. Schodeld
lifted a protesting hand.
"Penrod. aren't you the worst boy in
town +"
Penrod. gazing fondly upon his knife
and eating cookies rapidly. answered.
as a matter of course and absently.
"Yes'm''
Certainly" said Mrs Grim. 'Once
you accept a thing about yourself as
established and settled. it's all right.
Nobody minds. Boys are just like peo-
pie. really"
mo. no" Mrs. schoneld cried invol-
UNFAIRLY.
Yes they are" Aunt Sarah persisted
ct suppose Penrod Is regarded as the
neighborhood curse?"
~Oh. no." cried Mrs. Schoneld. He
-"
Il dare say the neighbors are right"
continued the old lady placidly. Hes
had to repeat the history of the race