You don't expeck me to go round here all day workin' like a dog to make a good ole snake for 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' guide your good ole snake around with it; but first--well, first there's just one more thing's got to be done.
I'll show you--it won't take but a minute." Then, while Verman watched him wonderingly, he went to the can of white paint and dipped a brush therein. "It won't get on your clo'es much, or anything, Verman," he explained. "I only just got to--"
But as he approached, dripping brush in hand, the wondering look was all gone 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 teeny bit o' paint was goin' to kill you. What's the matter of you? I only just got to paint the top part of your face; I'm not goin' to TOUCH the other part of it--nor your hands or anything. All _I_ want--"
"MO!" said Verman from the doorway.