"Yes, 'tis too something. You're making some more of those paper
snappers that the teacher kept you in after school for the other
night. Bob, can't you settle down and not be always up to some
trick?"

"I wasn't making these for myself, mom, honest I wasn't,"
expostulated Bob, with an innocent look that did not seem in accord
with the mischief in his blue eyes. "I was making 'em for Jimmy
Smith."

"Yes, and Jimmy Smith would pop 'em off in school, and when he got
caught he'd say you gave 'em to him, and you'd both be kept in.
Oh, Bob, I don't know what will happen to you next!"

"Why, I wasn't doing anything, honest I wasn't, mom. Oh, how funny
you look with that patch of flour on your cheek! Just like a clown
in a circus, only he has white stuff all over his face."

"Well, I must say, Bob Henderson, you're not very complimentary to
your mother, telling her she looks like a circus clown."

"I didn't say you did, mom. You only look like half a clown."

"That's just as bad."

Bob took advantage of this little diversion to hide the paper
snappers behind the tree while his mother was wiping the flour off
her face. The snappers were oblong pieces of stout wrapping paper,
folded in such a way that when swung through the air they went off
like a bag blown up and crushed between the hands. Bob was an