But just then came
a quite loud knock at the study door, and before papa had finished
saying "Come!"--he never does say it right away,--the door flew open,
and in bounced Phil, as if he were in an awful hurry. He marched
straight to papa's desk, and began, very quickly, "Father, I'd like--"
But papa just waved his hand at him, without looking up: "In a few
minutes," he said, and went right on reading.
You should have seen Phil fidget: he stood on one foot, then on the
other; he put his hands in his pockets and jingled the things he had
there, till he remembered that papa doesn't like us to do that, then he
took his hands out. He straightened up, and shook his coat collar into
place, and he cleared his throat; but nothing had any effect until he
accidentally knocked a book off the desk. Then papa started, and peered
up at him in the near-sighted way that Felix does sometimes: "H'm, too
bad!" he said, taking the book from Phil; then he sighed, put his finger
on the page of his book to mark the place, and said, in a resigned sort
of way, "Well, what is it you want?"
And I tell you, Phil didn't take long to come to the point; he pitched
right in, in that quick, headlong way he has when he's awfully in
earnest.
Pages:
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31