Therefore, not knowing what might be encountered, Penrod continued to be reluctant.
"Penrod," his mother exclaimed, losing patience, "I'll call your papa to make you take it, if you don't swallow it right down! Open your mouth, Penrod! It isn't going to taste bad at all.

Open your mouth--THERE!" The reluctant jaw relaxed at last, and Mrs.Schofield dexterously elevated the handle of the spoon so that the brown liquor was deposited within her son.
"There!" she repeated triumphantly.

"It wasn't so bad after all, was it ?" Penrod did not reply.

His expression had become odd, and the oddity of his manner was equal to that of his expression.

Uttering no sound, he seemed to distend, as if he had suddenly become a pneumatic boy under dangerous pressure.