“It was cold,” Sam protested. “There hadn't been any fire there since last spring. Course we told him there was fire in it. We HAD to do that,” he continued earnestly, “because that was part of the 'nishiation. We only kept him in it a little while and kind of hammered on the outside a little and then we took him out and got him to lay down on his stummick, because he was all muddy anyway, where he fell down the cellar; and how could it matter to anybody that had any sense at all? Well, then we had the rixual, and--and--why, the teeny little paddlin' he got wouldn't hurt a flea! It was that little coloured boy lives in the alley did it--he isn't anyways near HALF Georgie's size but Georgie got mad and said he didn't want any ole nigger to paddle him. That's what he said, and it was his own foolishness, because Verman won't let ANYBODY call him 'nigger', and if Georgie was goin' to call him that he ought to had sense enough not to do it when he was layin' down that way and Verman all ready to be the paddler. And he needn't of been so mad at the rest of us, either, because it took us about twenty minutes to get the paddle away from Verman after that, and we had to lock Verman up in the laundry-room and not let him out till it was all over. Well, and then things were kind of spoiled, anyway; so we didn't do but just a little more--and that's all.” “Go on! What was the 'just a little more?'” “Well--we got him to swaller a little teeny bit of asafidity that Penrod used to have to wear in a bag around his neck. It wasn't enough to even make a person sneeze--it wasn't much more'n a half a spoonful--it wasn't hardly a QUARTER of a spoonf--” “Ha!” said Mr. Williams. “That accounts for the doctor. What else?” “Well--we--we had some paint left over from our flag, and we put just a little teeny bit of it on his hair and--” “Ha!” said Mr. Williams. “That accounts for the barber. What else?” “That's all,” Sam said, swallowing. “Then he got mad and went home.” Mr. Williams walked to the door, and sternly motioned to the culprit to precede him through it. But just before the pair passed from her sight, Mrs. Williams gave way to an uncontrollable impulse. “Sam,” she asked, “what does 'In-Or-In' stand for?” The unfortunate boy had begun to sniffle. “It--it means--Innapenent Order of Infadelaty,” he moaned--and plodded onward to his doom. Not his alone: at that very moment Master Roderick Magsworth Bitts, Junior, was suffering also, consequent upon telephoning on the part of Mrs. Bassett, though Roderick's punishment was administered less on the ground of Georgie's troubles and more on that of Roddy's having affiliated with an order consisting so largely of Herman and Verman. As for Maurice Levy, he was no whit less unhappy. He fared as ill.