"Penrod, we're trying to make you well." "But I AM well, I tell you!" "No, dear; your papa's been very much troubled about you.

Come, Penrod; swallow this down and don't make such a fuss about it.

It's just for your own good." And she advanced upon him again, the spoon extended toward his lips.

It almost touched them, for he had retreated until his back was against the wall-paper.

He could go no farther; but he evinced his unshaken repugnance by averting his face.
"What's it taste like ?" he demanded.
"It's not unpleasant at all," she answered, poking the spoon at his mouth.