CHAPTER XIX. CREATIVE ART
He went forth, seeking.
The Schofield household was catless this winter but there was a nicewhite cat at the Williams'. Penrod strolled thoughtfully over to theWilliams's yard.
He was entirely successful, not even having been seen by the sensitivecoloured woman, aged fifty-three years and four months.
But still Penrod was thoughtful. The artist within him was unsatisfiedwith his materials: and upon his return to the stable he placed thecat beneath an overturned box, and once more sat down in the inspiringwheelbarrow, pondering. His expression, concentrated and yet a littleanxious, was like that of a painter at work upon a portrait that may ormay not turn out to be a masterpiece. The cat did not disturb him by herpurring, though she was, indeed, already purring. She was one of thosecozy, youngish cats--plump, even a little full-bodied, perhaps, andrather conscious of the figure--that are entirely conventional anddomestic by nature, and will set up a ladylike housekeeping anywherewithout making a fuss about it. If there be a fault in these cats,overcomplacency might be the name for it; they err a shade too sureof themselves, and their assumption that the world means to treat themrespectfully has just a little taint of the grande dame. Consequently,they are liable to great outbreaks of nervous energy from within,engendered by the extreme surprises that life sometimes holds in storefor them. They lack the pessimistic imagination.
Mrs. Williams's cat was content upon a strange floor and in theconfining enclosure of a strange box. She purred for a time, thentrustfully fell asleep. 'Twas well she slumbered; she would need all herpowers presently.
She slumbered, and dreamed not that she would wake to mingle with eventsthat were to alter her serene disposition radically and cause her tobecome hasty-tempered and abnormally suspicious for the rest of herlife.
Meanwhile, Penrod appeared to reach a doubtful solution of his problem.His expression was still somewhat clouded as he brought from thestoreroom of the stable a small fragment of a broken mirror, two paintbrushes and two old cans, one containing black paint and the otherwhite. He regarded himself earnestly in the mirror; then, with somereluctance, he dipped a brush into one of the cans, and slowly paintedhis nose a midnight black. He was on the point of spreading thisdecoration to cover the lower part of his face, when he paused, brushhalfway between can and chin.
What arrested him was a sound from the alley--a sound of drumming upontin. The eyes of Penrod became significant of rushing thoughts; hisexpression cleared and brightened. He ran to the alley doors and flungthem open.
"Oh, Verman!" he shouted.
Marching up and down before the cottage across the alley, Verman plainlyconsidered himself to be an army. Hanging from his shoulders by a stringwas an old tin wash-basin, whereon he beat cheerily with two dry bones,once the chief support of a chicken. Thus he assuaged his ennui.
"Verman, come on in here," Penrod called. "I got sumpthing for you to doyou'll like awful well."
Verman halted, ceased to drum, and stared. His gaze was not fixedparticularly upon Penrod's nose, however, and neither now nor later didhe make any remark or gesture referring to this casual eccentricity. Heexpected things like that upon Penrod or Sam Williams. And as for Penrodhimself, he had already forgotten that his nose was painted.
"Come on, Verman!"
Verman continued to stare, not moving. He had received such invitationsbefore, and they had not always resulted to his advantage. Within thatstable things had happened to him the like of which he was anxious toavoid in the future.
"Oh, come ahead, Verman!" Penrod urged, and, divining logic in thereluctance confronting him, he added, "This ain't goin' to be anythinglike last time, Verman. I got sumpthing just SPLENDUD for you to do!"
Verman's expression hardened; he shook his head decisively.
"Mo," he said.
"Oh, COME on, Verman?" Penrod pleaded. "It isn't anything goin' to HURTyou, is it? I tell you it's sumpthing you'd give a good deal to GET todo, if you knew what it is."
"Mo!" said Verman firmly. "I mome maw woo!"
Penrod offered arguments.
"Look, Verman!" he said. "Listen here a minute, can't you? How d'youknow you don't want to until you know what it is? A person CAN'T knowthey don't want to do a thing even before the other person tells 'emwhat they're goin' to get 'em to do, can they? For all you know, thisthing I'm goin' to get you to do might be sumpthing you wouldn't missdoin' for anything there is! For all you know, Verman, it might besumpthing like this: well, f'rinstance, s'pose I was standin' here,and you were over there, sort of like the way you are now, and I says,'Hello, Verman!' and then I'd go on and tell you there was sumpthingI was goin' to get you to do; and you'd say you wouldn't do it, evenbefore you heard what it was, why where'd be any sense to THAT? For allyou know, I might of been goin' to get you to eat a five-cent bag o'peanuts."
Verman had listened obdurately until he heard the last few words; butas they fell upon his ear, he relaxed, and advanced to the stable doors,smiling and extending his open right hand.
"Aw wi," he said. "Gi'm here."
"Well," Penrod returned, a trifle embarrassed, "I didn't say it WASpeanuts, did I? Honest, Verman, it's sumpthing you'll like better'n afew old peanuts that most of 'em'd prob'ly have worms in 'em, anyway.All I want you to do is--"
But Verman was not favourably impressed; his face hardened again.
"Mo!" he said, and prepared to depart.
"Look here, Verman," Penrod urged. "It isn't goin' to hurt you just tocome in here and see what I got for you, is it? You can do that much,can't you?"
Surely such an appeal must have appeared reasonable, even to Verman,especially since its effect was aided by the promising words, "See whatI got for you." Certainly Verman yielded to it, though perhaps a littlesuspiciously. He advanced a few cautious steps into the stable.
"Look!" Penrod cried, and he ran to the stuffed and linked stockings,seized the leading-string, and vigorously illustrated his furtherremarks. "How's that for a big, long, ugly-faced horr'ble black olesnake, Verman? Look at her follow me all round anywhere I feel likegoin'! Look at her wiggle, will you, though? Look how I make her doanything I tell her to. Lay down, you ole snake, you--See her lay downwhen I tell her to, Verman? Wiggle, you ole snake, you! See her wiggle,Verman?"
"Hi!" Undoubtedly Verman felt some pleasure.
"Now, listen, Verman!" Penrod continued, hastening to make the most ofthe opportunity. "Listen! I fixed up this good ole snake just for you.I'm goin' to give her to you."
"HI!"
On account of a previous experience not unconnected with cats, andlikely to prejudice Verman, Penrod decided to postpone mentioning Mrs.Williams's pet until he should have secured Verman's cooperation in theenterprise irretrievably.
"All you got to do," he went on, "is to chase this good ole snakearound, and sort o' laugh and keep pokin' it with the handle o' thatrake yonder. I'm goin' to saw it off just so's you can poke your goodole snake with it, Verman."
"Aw wi," said Verman, and, extending his open hand again, he uttered ahopeful request. "Peamup?"
His host perceived that Verman had misunderstood him. "Peanuts!" heexclaimed. "My goodness! I didn't say I HAD any peanuts, did I? I onlysaid s'pose f'rinstance I DID have some. My goodness! You don't expeckme to go round here all day workin' like a dog to make a good ole snakefor you and then give you a bag o' peanuts to hire you to play with it,do you, Verman? My goodness!"
Verman's hand fell, with a little disappointment.
"Aw wi," he said, consenting to accept the snake without the bonus.
"That's the boy! NOW we're all right, Verman; and pretty soon I'm goin'to saw that rake-handle off for you, too; so's you can kind o' guideyour good ole snake around with it; but first--well, first there's justone more thing's got to be done. I'll show you--it won't take but aminute." Then, while Verman watched him wonderingly, he went to the canof white paint and dipped a brush therein. "It won't get on your clo'esmuch, or anything, Verman," he explain
ed. "I only just got to--"
But as he approached, dripping brush in hand, the wondering look was allgone from Verman; determination took its place.
"Mo!" he said, turned his back, and started for outdoors.
"Look here, Verman," Penrod cried. "I haven't done anything to you yet,have I? It isn't goin' to hurt you, is it? You act like a little teenybit o' paint was goin' to kill you. What's the matter of you? I onlyjust got to paint the top part of your face; I'm not goin' to TOUCH theother part of it--nor your hands or anything. All _I_ want--"
"MO!" said Verman from the doorway.
"Oh, my goodness!" moaned Penrod; and in desperation he drew forth fromhis pocket his entire fortune. "All right, Verman," he said resignedly."If you won't do it any other way, here's a nickel, and you can go andbuy you some peanuts when we get through. But if I give you this money,you got to promise to wait till we ARE through, and you got to promiseto do anything I tell you to. You goin' to promise?"
The eyes of Verman glistened; he returned, gave bond, and, grasping thecoin, burst into the rich laughter of a gourmand.
Penrod immediately painted him dead white above the eyes, all round hishead and including his hair. It took all the paint in the can.
Then the artist mentioned the presence of Mrs. Williams's cat, explainedin full his ideas concerning the docile animal, and the long blacksnake, and Della and her friend, Mrs. Cullen, while Verman listened withanxiety, but remained true to his oath.
They removed the stocking at the end of the long black snake, and cutfour holes in the foot and ankle of it. They removed the excelsior,placed Mrs. Williams's cat in the stocking, shook her down into thelower section of it; drew her feet through the four holes there, leavingher head in the toe of the stocking; then packed the excelsior down ontop of her, and once more attached the stocking to the rest of the long,black snake.
How shameful is the ease of the historian! He sits in his dressing-gownto write: "The enemy attacked in force--" The tranquil pen, moving in acloud of tobacco smoke, leaves upon the page its little hieroglyphics,serenely summing up the monstrous deeds and sufferings of men of action.How cold, how niggardly, to state merely that Penrod and the paintedVerman succeeded in giving the long, black snake a motive power, ortractor, apparently its own but consisting of Mrs. Williams's cat!
She was drowsy when they lifted her from the box; she was still drowsywhen they introduced part of her into the orifice of the stocking; butshe woke to full, vigorous young life when she perceived that theirpurpose was for her to descend into the black depths of that stockinghead first.
Verman held the mouth of the stocking stretched, and Penrod manipulatedthe cat; but she left her hearty mark on both of them before, in amoment of unfortunate inspiration, she humped her back while she wasupside down, and Penrod took advantage of the concavity to increase iteven more than she desired. The next instant she was assisted downwardinto the gloomy interior, with excelsior already beginning to block themeans of egress.
Gymnastic moments followed; there were times when both boys hurledthemselves full-length upon the floor, seizing the animated stockingwith far-extended hands; and even when the snake was a complete thing,with legs growing from its unquestionably ugly face, either Penrodor Verman must keep a grasp upon it, for it would not be soothed, andrefused, over and over, to calm itself, even when addressed as, "Poorpussy!" and "Nice 'ittle kitty!"
Finally, they thought they had their good ole snake "about quieteddown", as Penrod said, because the animated head had remained in oneplace for an unusual length of time, though the legs produced a rathersinister effect of crouching, and a noise like a distant planing-millcame from the interior--and then Duke appeared in the doorway. He wasstill feeling lively.
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