Pee-Wee Harris | Page 2

wicked grin upon his face. "You got two hands; here, take the letter if you want it; here it is," he added, reaching up.
Pee-Wee tried to dispatch the remainder of the banana by one gigantic and triumphant bite but the desperate expedient did not work; his mouth with all its long practice, could not keep up with his hand; it became clogged while yet a considerable length of banana projected out of the gracefully drooping rind.
"Here, take it," the postman said in a tone of ruthless finality.
Chewing frantically and waving the remainder of banana menacingly like a club, the baffled hero uttered some incomprehensible, imploring jumble of suffocated words while the postman moved away a step or two, repressing a fiendish smile.
"Throwaway the banana," he said.
By this time Pee-Wee was able to speak and while his chewing apparatus was momentarily disengaged he demanded to know if the postman thought he was crazy. The postman, resolved not to miss the fun of the situation, was not going to let Pee-Wee take another bite; time was precious, and two more bites of the sort that Pee-Wee took might leave his hand free.
"Take the letter," he said with an air of cold determination, "or I'll leave it at the house. Here, take it quick; I've no time to waste."
"Do you want me to waste a banana," Pee-Wee yelled imploringly; "a scout is supposed--"
"Here, take it", the postman said.
There followed the most terrible moment in the life of Pee-Wee Harris, Scout. He knew that one more bite would be fatal, that the postman would not wait. In two bites, or in three at most, he could finish the banana and his hand would be free.
How could a postman, who brings joy to the lonely, words of love from far away, cheer to those who wait, comfort from across the seas, Boys' Life Magazine--how could such a being be so relentless and cruel? If that letter were left at the house, Pee-Wee would have to go to the house and get it, and there his mother was lying in ambush waiting to pounce upon him and make him mow the lawn, Why would not the postman wait for just two bites? Maybe he could do it in one, he had consumed a peach in one bite and a ham sandwich in four--his star record.
He made a movement with his hand, and simultaneously the postman retreated a step or two toward the house. Pee-Wee tried releasing his hold upon the trunk with the other hand and almost lost his balance on the shaky limb.
"Here," said the postman, unyielding, "chuck the banana and take the letter or you'll find it waiting for you in the front hall. It's an important letter, it feels as if it had a couple of cookies in it." The postman knew Pee-Wee. "Here you go," the torturer said grimly, "take it or not, suit yourself."
"Can't you see both hands are busy?" the victim pled. "Two bites--a scout is supposed not to waste anything--he's supposed--he's supposed--wait a minute--he's supposed if he starts a thing to finish it--wait, I'm not going to take a bite, I'm only giving you an argument--can't you wait--"
"Here you go, last chance, take it," the postman said, a faint smile hovering at the corner of his mouth, "one, two,"
Out of Pee-Wee's wrath and anguish came an inspiration.
"Stick the letter in the banana," he said, holding the banana down.
"I don't know about that," the postman said, ruefully.
"I know about it," Pee-Wee thundered down at him. "You said I had to take it or not; that letter belongs to me and you, have to deliver it. This banana, it's--it's the same as a mail box--you stick the letter in the banana. You think you're so smart, you thought you'd make me throw away the banana, naaah, didn't you? I wouldn't do that, not even for--for--secretary--for the postmaster--general, I wouldn't! A scout has resource."
"All right, you win," said the postman, good humoredly, "only look out you don't fall; here you go, hold on tight."
Clutching to the knotty projection of trunk, Pee-Wee reached the other hand as low as he could and the postman, smiling, stuck the corner of the coveted letter into the mealy substance of the banana.
"You win," the postman repeated laughingly; "it shows what Scout Harris can do with food."
"Food will win the war," Pee-Wee shouted. "You thought you could make me throwaway my banana but you couldn't. I knew a man that died from not eating a banana, I did."
"Explain all that," the postman said.
"He threw a banana away on his porch instead of eating it and later he stepped on it and slid down the steps and broke his leg and they took him to the hospital and compilations set in and he got pneumonia and died from