Читать книгу Pee-Wee Harris in Darkest Africa - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 6

Table of Contents

Pee-Wee was a sort of visiting celebrity in the Silver Foxes. He had sought refuge in this hilarious fold on the disintegration of the Chipmunk Patrol of which he had been the autocrat. He now made known his tremendous enterprise to Roy Blakeley whose quiet home he invaded the following afternoon. Roy and Warde Hollister were sitting in Roy’s tent on the spacious lawn indexing a stalking album. “Here comes an apple with Pee-Wee behind it,” said Warde.

Pee-Wee was always precipitate in his announcements. He never led up to startling revelations by easy stages. “I’m going to leave the Silver Foxes,” he shouted breathlessly. “I’ve got a dandy big idea so I’m going to leave the Silver Foxes.”

“Is that a promise; can we depend on it?” said Roy.

“I got a big scheme,” Pee-Wee enthused.

“He’s called to a wider field of uselessness,” said Warde. “Break it to us gently, kid; what it is?”

“Don’t smash it, just break it,” said Roy. “I was hoping for this. It will be your daily good turn to your patrol, scout. No one will be sorrier than I am that I’m glad you’re going to leave us. This is a terrible blow—to whoever you’re going to tie up with. Stand near the microbephone and tell us the glad tidings, and give us a bite of that apple, will you? Here, give us it, you can’t eat while you’re breadcrusting.”

“Did anybody ever tell you you’re crazy?” Pee-Wee demanded.

“They don’t have to tell me,” said Roy gaily, “it’s conceded by a unanimous minority. Everybody told me—even more people than that. When are you leaving us, and if so why not?”

“He’s not happy in the nickel plated foxes,” said Warde.

“I got an inspiration out of that bulletin,” Pee-Wee vociferated. “And last night on the way home I was thinking about it how I’d scoutch, scout, and I stopped in Bennett’s——”

“For a banana splitch?” said Roy. “Right the first time.”

“Will you shut up till I get through!” Pee-Wee roared. “That’s one of the reasons I’m getting out of this patrol because you don’t have any sense with all your crazy nonsense, do you call that scouting?”

“That’s a pretty good argument, Roy,” said Warde.

“Ask me another answer and I’ll give you the question to it,” said Roy. “There are more fellows outside of scouting than inside. The boy sprouts have more non-members than any other organ or brass band or anything, I mean organization; that’s a lot of bull from the bulletin. What’s the idea, using our tent?”

“Will you keep still while I tell you!” Pee-Wee shouted.

“We’ll keep still and we’ll keep our tent too. The only thing he’s willing for us to keep is to keep still. Go ahead and when you finish be sure to stop.”

“I’m going to Hickson’s Crossroads on Saturday,” said Pee-Wee, subsiding somewhat but still excitedly, “and I’m going to start a patrol there, I’m going to scout thoughts I mean scouts out for scouting I’m going to scout them like it says and start a patrol——”

“You’re missing on two cylinders,” said Warde.

“Pee-Wee is entirely right,” said Roy, all the while busy with his index, “except for the static. What he means is that a scoutish sprout sloutishly shouts out undoubtishy the thoughtch that he can’t stoutishly rout out more from the outsidishy to get them inside——”

“Will you shut up!” Pee-Wee screamed. “Do you call that a language!”

“I’m a scout and I don’t call names,” said Roy.

“He’s got a very severe attack of the poster,” said Warde.

“Sure, he’s got posteristis on both sides of his tongue,” said Roy.

“And I’m going to go to South Africa too!” Pee-Wee fairly screamed. “I’m going to get selected because I formed a whole patrol all by myself like I’m going to do and I’m going to get my picture in the newspapers because how I’m chosen to go with Martin Johnson on account of what I do for scouting. So now you know why I’m leaving this patrol and they’re all crazy anyway and they’re not a real patrol with all their crazy hikes and jollying new scouts with nonsense.”

“Those are harsh words, P. Harris,” said Roy.

“Anyway you know the rule,” Pee-Wee said; “how it’s a troop rule—you know what Mr. Ellsworth said—that one patrol has got to help another——”

“There isn’t any other,” laughed Warde.

“There is!” Pee-Wee roared, “and I want the tent because you’ve got to do a good turn to another patrol that’s starting Saturday because that’s the rule like Mr. Ellsworth said.”

“Maybe we’ll come down there Saturday and take a look,” Warde said.

“If you come down there with a lot of your nonsense you’ll be sorry for it,” said Pee-Wee. “If you come down there and start being an obstacist——”

“A which?” said Roy.

“It’s Latin for obstructionist” said Warde.

“If you start a lot of obstacles you’ll be sorry for it, that’s all I’ve got to say,” Pee-Wee threatened. “If you come there while I’m scouting scoutish—you know what I mean and start shouting——”

“You mean shoushing,” said Roy.

“—you know what I mean the way you do, if you start that, telling them you get the life saving badge by eating peppermint life savers like you told Shorty Cullen—if you do that—if you tell ’em a life scout is one that sacrifices his life——”

“I will tell them nothing but the truth; a scout’s honor is to be toasted, law one. That’s Pee-Wee’s favorite law because it reminds him of toast, especially toasted marshmallows. Do you mind if I tell them that a scout must be helpful—law three; how he has to help himself to four helpings of dessert? That shows how much I know about the scout law, hey Warde?”

“Some patrol leader we’ve got,” Warde said.

“Shall we let him have the tent?” asked Roy.

“Sure,” said Warde.

“Will you promise to set it up so the inside of it faces the wind?”

Pee-Wee was too much interested in getting it to be annoyed. “Sure, you bet I’ll take good care of it,” he said.

“And you’re leaving the Silver Foxes forever—perhaps even longer?”

“But anyway I’m in the troop still,” Pee-Wee consoled.

“Not so terribly still,” said Warde.