od blinked and
clinched his eyelids to be rid of this dual image, and he managed to
shake off the volcano. Then, lowering the angle of his glance, he saw
something most remarkable--and curiously out of place.

An inverted white soup-plate was lying miraculously balanced upon the
back of a pew a little distance in front of him, and upon the upturned
bottom of the soup-plate was a brown cocoanut. Mildly surprised,
Penrod yawned, and, in the effort to straighten his eyes, came to life
temporarily. The cocoanut was revealed as Georgie Bassett's head,
and the soup-plate as Georgie's white collar. Georgie was sitting up
straight, as he always did in church, and Penrod found this vertical
rectitude unpleasant. He knew that he had more to fear from the Eye
than Georgie had, and he was under the impression (a correct one) that
Georgie felt on intimate terms with it and was actually fond of it.

Penrod himself would have maintained that he was fond of it, if he had
been asked. He would have said so because he feared to say otherwise;
and the truth is that he never consciously looked at the Eye
disrespectfully. He would have been alarmed if he thought the Eye had
any way of finding out how he really felt about it. When not off his
guard, he always looked at it placatively.

By and by, he sagged so far to the left that he had symptoms of a
"stitch in the side", and, rousing himself, sat partially straight for
several moments. Then he rubbed his shoulders slowly from side to side
against the back of the seat, until his mother whispered, "Don't do
that, Penrod."

Upon this, he allowed himself to slump inwardly till the curve in the
back of his neck rested against the curved top of the back of the seat.
It was a congenial fit, and Penrod again began to move slowly from side
to side, finding the friction soothing. Even so slight a pleasure was
denied him by a husky, "Stop that!" from his father.

Penrod sighed, and slid farther down. He scratched his head, his left
knee, his right biceps and his left ankle, after which he scratched
his right knee, his right ankle and his left biceps. Then he said, "Oh,
hum!" unconsciously, but so loudly that there was a reproving stir in
the neighbourhood of the Schofield pew, and his father looked at him
angrily.

Finally, his nose began to trouble him. It itched, and after scratching
it, he rubbed it harshly. Another "Stop that!" from his father proved of
no avail, being greeted by a desperate