Penny and Peter

by Carolyn Haywood

  Before Mother left, she said, "How would you boys like to meet Daddy and me this evening for dinner and go to a movie?"

  "Great!" cried Peter.

  "Swell!" said Penny.

  Mother told them the name of the restaurant.

  "Oh, I know where that is," said Peter. "I used to serve papers there when I had my paper route."

  "Very well," said Mother. "You and Penny be there at six o'clock sharp."

  "All right, Mother," said Peter.

  After Mother left, the boys looked around for something to do. They wandered into the room that was to be Peter's. By the door, in the empty room, sat a large can of blue paint and a package containing two large paintbrushes. Peter walked over and examined the can.

  "I heard Daddy say that he wished the floor was painted," said Peter. "I wonder if we could paint it and surprise him when he gets home."

  "Oh, I like to paint," said Penny. "I just love to paint."

  "Well, let's do it," said Peter.

  The boys squatted down beside the can of paint and Peter unwrapped the package of paintbrushes.

  "I helped paint a floor once when I lived at the orphanage," said Peter.

  "You know how to do lots of things, don't you, Peter?" said Penny.

  "Pretty many," said Peter, as he went off to get a screwdriver to lift the lid off the can of paint.

  When he returned he had a screwdriver and a sturdy stick. He pried off the lid and thrust the stick into the can.

  "You have to stir it until it is smooth," he said, as he began to stir the paint round and round with the stick.

  At first, it was very hard to stir, but the more he stirred the easier it became. And the color grew more beautiful.

  Penny sat on the floor beside Peter. While Peter stirred, the two boys talked. "Do you know Jimmy and Jackie Landon?" asked Penny.

  "Sure!" said Peter. "They're in your room in school, aren't they?"

  "Yes," replied Penny. "And do you know what Jimmy and Jackie have in their bedroom?"

  "What?" asked Peter.

  "They have bunk beds," answered Penny. "Do you know what bunk beds are?"

  "Sure," said Peter. "They're like the beds on trains. One is down low and the other is up high, near the ceiling."

  "And you climb up a ladder to get into the upper one," said Penny.

  "That's right," said Peter.

  "I wish we had bunk beds," said Penny.

  "I read a story once about some people who had a cabin in the woods. They had bunk beds," said Peter.

  "They did?" said Penny. "They had a cabin in the woods?"

  "Yepper!" replied Peter. "And it was an exciting story."

  "Were there wild animals in the woods?" asked Penny.

  "Oh, sure!" said Peter.

  "Would you like a cabin in the woods?" asked Penny.

  "You bet!" replied Peter. "Someday, I'm going to have one."

  "Would you be afraid of the wild animals?" asked Penny.

  "'Course not," said Peter.

  "Wouldn't you even be afraid of a wolf?" asked Penny.

  "No," replied Peter. "I would shoot it. Would you be afraid?"

  "No," answered Penny. "I wouldn't be afraid of any old wolf."

  "Well, then, you can stay in my cabin when I get it," said Peter. "You can sleep in one of the bunks."

  Penny looked into the can of paint. "Isn't it done yet?" he asked.

  "Almost," Peter answered.

  At last, Peter said, "Now it's ready." And just then, he tipped the can and spilled some of the paint on the floor. Peter picked up one of the brushes and spread the paint that had been spilled. "We might as well begin right here," he said.

  Penny was delighted to finally dip his brush in the paint. He liked spreading the blue paint over the floorboards. He watched Peter and tried to do it just the way he did.

  Peter was so much interested in what he was doing that he didn't notice that when he began with the spilled paint, it was right in front of the only door in the room. He just painted and painted and painted. And Penny painted and painted and painted. Every once in a while they moved the bucket of paint and they got farther and farther away from the door. Before very long there was a strip of blue paint from one wall to the other. It was so wide that no one could have stepped over it—not even Daddy, with his long legs. But they never noticed that the only way out was getting farther and farther away from them. They were too busy painting. Occasionally, they would sit back and admire their work.

  Once Peter said, "It looks swell, doesn't it?"

  "Yes," replied Penny. "Won't Daddy be surprised?"

  And then, in the doorway, Truly, Penny's black cat with white paws, appeared.

  "Don't come in, Truly," shouted Penny. "Don't come in!"

  Truly put his white nose down and wiped up some paint. He looked so funny when he lifted his face. He was wearing blue lipstick. Peter and Penny screamed with laughter.

  Then Truly lifted one white paw. He was just about to put it down on the blue paint when Peter cried, "Scat!"

  Truly was so surprised, he turned tail and fled down the stairs, taking his little blue nose with him.

  The boys set to work again. By this time, there was a good deal of paint on their hands, and their overalls were pretty well spotted. They went on painting.

  Then Really, Penny's yellow cat, appeared in the doorway. "Scat!" cried Penny. "Go away," he cried, as Really showed signs of walking right over the blue paint.

  Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of paper. He threw it as hard as he could at Really. Really was so frightened that he turned suddenly and he swept the blue paint with his long yellow tail. The last the boys saw of Really was his tail, waving like a paintbrush dipped in blue.

  The boys sighed in relief. "I thought he was surely going to spoil the floor," said Peter.

  "We don't want anything to spoil it," said Penny, as they set to work again.

  The room wasn't very large, so by the time the church clock struck five, they were just about half finished.

  "Pretty soon, we'll have to get washed and dressed to go meet Mother and Daddy," said Peter.

  "Yes," said Penny. "I guess we won't get it all finished, will we?"

  "I guess not," replied Peter.

  "Won't Daddy be surprised?" said Penny.

  "He'll be surprised good," said Peter, finishing another board. Then he sat back on his heels. He looked at the open door as though for the first time. Then he looked behind him at the wall with the windows. Then he said, "S-a-a-a-ay, Penny!"

  Penny looked up with his eyes big and round. "What is it?" he asked.

  "Look!" said Peter.

  "Where?" said Penny.

  "At the door," said Peter.

  Penny looked. "What's the matter with it?" he asked.

  "Look where it is," said Peter. "How are we going to get out?"

  Penny's eyes grew larger and larger as he looked at the lake of blue paint that lay between them and the door. Finally he said, "Well, what will we do?"

  "We don't want to walk on it," said Peter.

  Peter went to the window and looked out. The ground looked very far away. The church clock struck half past five. "It's half past five," he said. "Mother said to leave at half past five."

  "We could take off our shoes and stockings," said Penny, "and tiptoe to the door."

  "We would mess it up, 'cause it's awfully slippery," said Peter, gloomily.

  "Well, what shall we do?" asked Penny.

  Just then, a voice called from downstairs, "Yoo-hoo! Penny!"

  "Hi! Patsy!" Penny called back. "Come on up."

  Footsteps came stamping up the stairs and in a moment, Patsy, the little girl who lived next door, appeared.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "We've been painting the floor," said Penny. "And now we can't get out of the room without walking on the paint."

  "Oh!" said Patsy.

  "And we have to meet Mother and Daddy at six o'clock,"
said Peter.

  "Oh!" cried Patsy. "You will have to climb out of the window. Isn't it exciting? I wish I were over there and had to climb out of the window. I like to climb out of windows, but Mummy doesn't like me to do it."

  "We can't climb out of the window," said Peter, impatiently. "How could we, when it's so high?"

  "Oh!" said Patsy. "I thought the porch roof was there. Wouldn't it be nice if the porch roof was there? I like to sit on the porch roof. One day I sat on the porch roof all afternoon and nobody knew where I was. But Mummy didn't like it. I got my dress awfully dirty."

  "Oh, Patsy!" interrupted Peter. "Don't just stand there talking. Do something."

  "What shall I do?" Patsy asked.

  "Oh, I guess we will just have to walk on it," said Peter.

  "If you had a bridge, you could walk across the bridge," said Patsy.

  "Is that so?" said Peter. "And where are we going to get a bridge?"

  "Well, it's an awfully good idea," said Patsy.

  "Oh, come on, Peter," said Penny. "We'll have to walk on it."

  "Do you have a ladder?" asked Patsy.

  "Yes," replied Peter, "but it isn't long enough to reach to the window."

  "Maybe you could make a bridge out of it," said Patsy.

  Peter looked at Patsy and his eyes opened very wide. "Maybe we could," he said. "You go down to the garage and bring it up, Patsy."

  Patsy ran down to the garage. After some time she returned, dragging the ladder. She had quite a time bringing it upstairs, but she finally landed it outside of the bedroom door.

  "Now," said Peter, "there are two little stools in Mother's room. Get them and throw one of them in here to me."

  Patsy went off for the stools and reappeared with one in each hand.

  "Now, throw it far enough so that it won't land in the paint," said Peter.

  Patsy flung the stool with all of her might. Peter, being an expert catcher, caught it. He placed it on the unpainted part of the floor.

  "Now, stand the ladder up straight," said Peter. "And let it come down gently. Don't drop it."

  Patsy held the ladder up straight. Then she tipped it toward the inside of the room. Suddenly it dropped, but Peter was quick and caught the end of the ladder. He just saved it from landing on the paint.

  "Now, put your stool under your end," said Peter.

  Patsy slipped her stool under the end of the ladder and Peter placed the other stool under his end. "That's great!" he said. "Now, go ahead, Penny. You go across, first."

  Penny stepped on the first rung of the ladder, then to the second and then to the next, until he reached the end. Peter followed.

  "Didn't I tell you a bridge was a good idea?" said Patsy.

  "It was great," replied Peter, as he dashed off to wash his hands.

  "We won't have time to change our clothes," he called to Penny. "We're late now."

  Patsy ran home to her dinner and Penny washed his hands. Then the two boys set out on a run to meet Daddy and Mother. They ran all the way. When they reached the restaurant, Daddy was standing out on the pavement looking for them.

  "What made you so late?" he said, when the boys arrived.

  "We were doing something," said Penny. "It's a surprise for you, Daddy."

  "And we got sorta stuck," said Penny. "We didn't have time to change our clothes."

  "So I see," said Daddy.

  When Mother saw the boys in their overalls, she, too, was surprised. "Why, boys!" she said. "Why didn't you get dressed?"

  "We couldn't," said Peter. "We were so late. We thought you would be worried."

  "We were making a surprise for Daddy," said Penny. "And we got sort of stuck."

  When they were all seated at the table, Daddy looked at the boys' overalls and at the blue stains on their hands. Then he looked across the table at Mother. "You know, Mother, I have been thinking. I think perhaps it would be nicer to paint the floor of Peter's room red."

  Penny and Peter sat bolt upright and stared at each other, their eyes popping.

  "Red!" cried Mother.

  "Yes," said Daddy. "A nice bright red."

  "Oh no, Daddy!" cried Penny. "Not red!"

  "Oh no! Not red," said Peter. "You wouldn't like it red, Daddy."

  "Well, maybe not," said Daddy. "I guess I had better use that nice blue paint that I bought."

  Peter and Penny looked across the table at each other and grinned. Penny wriggled, he was so pleased. Then he said, "I think you will like it, Daddy."

  3. Tootsie

  For a long time, Patsy had wanted a dog. "A nice little dog," Patsy would say. "I want a nice little dog. Not one like that wirehaired terrier that lives down the street. I want a nice quiet doggie."

  When Patsy said this to her daddy, he would say, "Well, perhaps someday." And when she chattered about the dog to her mother, she would say, "Well, we'll see."

  Patsy was beginning to feel that Daddy's "someday" would never come and that Mummy would never "see" when a letter arrived from her uncle Frank. Uncle Frank lived out west. He wrote that he was going into the army and he didn't know what to do with his dog "Tootsie." Would they like to have her, and if they wanted her, send a telegram.

  Patsy was so excited, she hopped up and down on one foot, saying over and over, "Sure we'll take her. Sure we'll take her. Won't we, Daddy? Won't we?"

  So her daddy sent the telegram to Uncle Frank. He said that they would be glad to take Tootsie.

  "What kind of dog do you suppose Tootsie is?" said Patsy.

  "I don't know," said her daddy. "As long as it isn't one of those Pekingese that expect to lie on a pillow all day, I don't care. Tootsie sounds very much like a Pekingese. They yap, too."

  "Maybe it's a little cocker spaniel," said Patsy. "I just love cocker spaniels."

  "I don't care what kind it is," said Patsy's mother, "just as long as it is little. And the littler the better."

  "You're not hoping for a Mexican hairless!" cried her daddy. "They look like some kind of bug."

  "No," laughed Mrs. Sawyer. "It doesn't have to be that little."

  When Patsy saw Penny, she said, "Oh, Penny! What do you think! I'm going to get a dog. My uncle Frank is sending it. Its name is Tootsie."

  "That's fine," said Penny. "What kind is it?"

  "I don't know yet," said Patsy. "Some kind of a little dog. Maybe a cocker spaniel or maybe a Scottie or maybe one of those little white ones with hair hanging over its eyes. I don't know what you call them."

  "You mean a poodle," said Peter, who had joined the children. "They look like floor mops."

  "Yes," said Patsy. "That's it. A poodle."

  "Are you going to build a doghouse for it?" Penny asked.

  "Oh no!" replied Patsy. "Tootsie is going to sleep in my room. Daddy and I are going to buy a little bed for her and it's going to be right beside my bed."

  Patsy talked of nothing but Tootsie. For days, it was, "Daddy, when are we going to buy Tootsie's bed? Mummy, when do you think Tootsie will come?" Then, after a while, it was, "Daddy, do you think Tootsie will come today?"

  One Saturday afternoon, her daddy took her to a department store. They went to the sporting goods department where all kinds of things for dogs could be found. They walked around until they came upon a pile of wicker beds.

  "What size bed are you interested in?" asked the salesman.

  "Oh, a small one," said Mr. Sawyer. "It is for a little dog."

  The salesman pulled out one of the beds. "This should be all right," he said. "We sell these for small dogs. Plenty big enough for a cocker or a Scottie."

  "Yes," said Mr. Sawyer. "That should be about right."

  Patsy thought it was a lovely little bed, with its bright green cushion.

  "Is there anything else, sir?" asked the salesman.

  "Oh, Daddy!" cried Patsy. "Look at the darling little bowls for the doggie's food. Can't we buy Tootsie a little bowl?"

  Daddy looked at the bowls. Now Patsy had found some double ones, for fo
od and water. "Oh, Daddy!" she cried. "Look at these!"

  "They are very nice," said the salesman. "Won't tip over and small enough so that the ears will hang down, outside of the bowl. Plenty large enough, too, for one feeding for a small dog."

  "Very well," said Mr. Sawyer. "Let's have one of those."

  "How about a leash?" said the salesman. "We have some very nice leashes over here." He led the way to a rack from which hung a bunch of leashes. He took one down. "This is a nice leash for a Scottie," he said. "What kind of dog did you say yours is?"

  "As a matter of fact," said Mr. Sawyer, "we don't know. She is being shipped to us from the west. She is some kind of small dog."

  "Oh, Daddy!" said Patsy. "I think the plaid leash is so pretty, and maybe she is a Scottie."

  "Well," said Daddy, "we'll take the leash. But I hope she doesn't turn out to be a dachshund."

  A few days later, word came from Uncle Frank that Tootsie had been shipped. Patsy ran right to the grocery store to buy a box of dog biscuits.

  "Do you want the regular dog biscuits," said the grocer, "or do you want puppy biscuits?"

  "I don't know," said Patsy. "They are for a little dog."

  "Puppy biscuits," said the grocer, lifting a box from the shelf. Patsy paid for it and trotted home with the box under her arm. She loved the pictures on the box. On one side there was a picture of a sad-looking cocker spaniel. On the other, a perky-looking Scottie.

  "Oh, Mummy!" Patsy sighed. "Do you think Tootsie will look like either of these doggies?"

  "I don't know, dear," said her mother. "Don't get your heart set on any one kind, because you might be disappointed."

  "Oh, I won't be disappointed," said Patsy. "I don't care what kind of dog Tootsie is, just so she isn't like that wirehaired terrier that lives down the street. I love every dog 'cept him. He chases everything. He chases me and he chases automobiles and he chases Really and Truly. Tootsie won't be like that. I know that Tootsie will be a good quiet dog. And I'll take her on my lap and hold her. And I'll brush her hair and I'll cover her up every night with my doll's blanket. And she'll trot along beside me when I take her out walking. And I'll give her a bath in my doll's washtub."

  One evening, the telephone bell rang and when Mr. Sawyer answered it, a voice said, "Mr. Sawyer, this is the railway station. We have a dog down here in the baggage room for you. She just came in by Railway Express. Our trucks don't go out on deliveries again until tomorrow. Thought you might like to come down and get her. Don't want her barking here all night."