Next, after being severely warned against stooping, Penrod got his feet into the slippers he wore to dancing-school--"patent-leather pumps" now decorated with large pink rosettes.
"If I can't stoop," he began, smolderingly, "I'd like to know how'm I goin' to kneel in the pag----" "You must MANAGE!" This, uttered through pins, was evidently thought to be sufficient.
They fastened some ruching about his slender neck, pinned ribbons at random all over him, and then Margaret thickly powdered his hair.
"Oh, yes, that's all right," she said, replying to a question put by her mother.

"They always powdered their hair in Colonial times." "It doesn't seem right to me--exactly," objected Mrs.Schofield, gently.
"Sir Lancelot must have been ever so long before Colonial times." "That doesn't matter," Margaret reassured her.

"Nobody'll know the difference--Mrs.Lora Rewbush least of all.

I don't think she knows a thing about it, though, of course, she does write splendidly and the words of the pageant are just beautiful.

Stand still, Penrod!" (The author of "Harold Ramorez" had moved convulsively.) "Besides, powdered hair's always becoming.