Figure 5.--The girls at the birthday party proved to much for poor Penrod to handle. Notice that Penrod in this drawing is wearing above-the-knee knickers. |
Penrod was jubilent at the end of school only to find himself enrolled in dancing school. Now it is difficult to assess who was most disheartened with this outcome--Penrod or the dancing class master Professor Bartet. For Penrod the dancing school was a daunting prposition. Not only was there all those girls and theirritating dancing master--there was the disgusting Georgie Bassett--by unanimous acclaim, the best boy in town.
This is Tarkington's description of his dancing school:
The school week was over, at last, but Penrod's troubles were not.
Round and round the ballroom went the seventeen struggling
little couples of the Friday Afternoon Dancing Class. Round and
round went their reflections with them, swimming rhythmically in
the polished, dark floor--white and blue and pink for the girls;
black, with dabs of white, for the white-collared, white-
gloved boys; and sparks and slivers of high light everywhere as
the glistening pumps flickered along the surface like a school of
flying fish. Every small pink face--with one exception--was
painstaking and set for duty. It was a conscientious little merry-go-round.
>p>"One-two-three; one-two-three--glide! One-two-three; one- two-three--glide! One-two-th--Ha! Mister Penrod Schofield, you
lose the step. Your left foot! No, no! This is the left!
See--like me! Now again! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide!
Better! Much better! Again! One-two-three; one-two-three--gl--
Stop! Mr. Penrod Schofield, this dancing class is provided by
the kind parents of the pupilses as much to learn the mannerss of
good societies as to dance. You think you shall ever see a
gentleman in good societies to tickle his partner in the dance
till she say Ouch? Never! I assure you it is not done. Again!
Now then! Piano, please! One-two-three; one-two-three--glide!
Mr. Penrod Schofield, your right foot--your right foot! No, no!
Stop!"
The merry-go-round came to a standstill.
"Mr. Penrod Schofield and partner"--Professor Bartet wiped
his brow--"will you kindly observe me? One-two-three--glide!
So! Now then--no; you will please keep your places, ladies and
gentlemen. Mr. Penrod Schofield, I would puttickly like your
attention, this is for you!"
"Pickin' on me again!" murmured the smouldering Penrod to his
small, unsympathetic partner. "Can't let me alone a minute!"
"Mister Georgie Bassett, please step to the centre," said the
professor.
Mr. Bassett complied with modest alacrity.
"Teacher's pet!" whispered Penrod hoarsely. He had nothing
but contempt for Georgie Bassett. The parents, guardians, aunts,
uncles, cousins, governesses, housemaids, cooks, chauffeurs and
coachmen, appertaining to the members of the dancing class, all
dwelt in the same part of town and shared certain communal
theories; and among the most firmly established was that which
maintained Georgie Bassett to be the Best Boy in Town.
Contrariwise, the unfortunate Penrod, largely because of his
recent dazzling but disastrous attempts to control forces far
beyond him, had been given a clear title as the Worst Boy in
Town. (Population, 135,000.) To precisely what degree his
reputation was the product of his own energies cannot be
calculated. It was Marjorie Jones who first applied the
description, in its definite simplicity, the day after the
"pageant," and, possibly, her frequent and effusive repetitions
of it, even upon wholly irrelevant occasions, had something to do
with its prompt and quite perfect acceptance by the community.
"Miss Rennsdale will please do me the fafer to be Mr. Georgie
Bassett's partner for one moment," said Professor Bartet.
"Mr. Penrod Schofield will please give his attention. Miss
Rennsdale and Mister Bassett, obliche me, if you please. Others
please watch. Piano, please! Now then!"
Miss Rennsdale, aged eight--the youngest lady in the class--
and Mr. Georgie Bassett one-two-three--glided with consummate
technique for the better education of Penrod Schofield. It is
possible that amber-curled, beautiful Marjorie felt that she,
rather than Miss Rennsdale, might have been selected as the
example of perfection--or perhaps her remark was only woman.
"Stopping everybody for that boy!" said Marjorie.
Penrod, across the circle from her, heard distinctly--nay, he
was obviously intended to hear; but over a scorched heart he
preserved a stoic front. Whereupon Marjorie whispered derisively
in the ear of her partner, Maurice Levy, who wore a pearl pin in
his tie.
"Again, please, everybody--ladies and gentlemen!" cried
Professor Bartet. "Mister Penrod Schofield, if you please, pay
puttickly attention! Piano, please! Now then!"
The lesson proceeded. At the close of the hour Professor
Bartet stepped to the centre of the room and clapped his hands
for attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you please to seat yourselves
quietly," he said; "I speak to you now about to-morrow. As
you all know--Mister Penrod Schofield, I am not sticking up in a
tree outside that window! If you do me the fafer to examine I am
here, insides of the room. Now then! Piano, pl--no, I do not
wish the piano! As you all know, this is the last lesson of the
season until next October. Tomorrow is our special afternoon;
beginning three o'clock, we dance the cotillon. But this
afternoon comes the test of mannerss. You must see if each know
how to make a little formal call like a grown-up people in good
societies. You have had good, perfect instruction; let us see if
we know how to perform like societies ladies and gentlemen
twenty-six years of age.
"Now, when you're dismissed each lady will go to her home and
prepare to receive a call. The gentlemen will allow the ladies
time to reach their houses and to prepare to receive callers;
then each gentleman will call upon a lady and beg the pleasure to
engage her for a partner in the cotillon to-morrow. You all know
the correct, proper form for these calls, because didn't I work
teaching you last lesson till I thought I would drop dead? Yes!
Now each gentleman, if he reach a lady's house behind some-other
gentleman, then he must go somewhere else to a lady's house, and
keep calling until he secures a partner; so, as there are the
same number of both, everybody shall have a partner.
"Now please all remember that if in case--Mister Penrod
Schofield, when you make your call on a lady I beg you to please
remember that gentlemen in good societies do not scratch the back
in societies as you appear to attempt; so please allow the hands
to rest carelessly in the lap. Now please all remember that if
in case--Mister Penrod Schofield, if you please! Gentlemen in
societies do not scratch the back by causing frictions between it
and the back of your chair, either! Nobody else is itching here!
_I_ do not itch! I cannot talk if you must itch! In the name
of Heaven, why must you always itch? What was I saying? Where
ah! the cotillon--yes! For the cotillon it is important nobody
shall fail to be here tomorrow; but if any one should be so very
ill he cannot possible come he must write a very polite note of
regrets in the form of good societies to his engaged partner to
excuse himself--and he must give the reason.
"I do not think anybody is going to be that sick to-morrow--
no; and I will find out and report to parents if anybody would
try it and not be. But it is important for the cotillon that we
have an even number of so many couples, and if it should happen
that someone comes and her partner has sent her a polite note
that he has genuine reasons why he cannot come, the note must be
handed at once to me, so that I arrange some other partner. Is
all understood? Yes. The gentlemen will remember now to allow
the ladies plenty of time to reach their houses and prepare
to receive calls. Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for your
polite attention."
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