Excerpt
CHAPTER I THE BATTLE OF THE BANANA
PEE-WEE HARRIS, mascot of the Raven Patrol, First Bridgeboro Troop, sat upon the lowest limb of the tree in front of his home eating a banana. To maintain his balance it was necessary for him to keep a tight hold with one hand on a knotty projection of the trunk while with the other he clutched his luscious refreshment.
The safety of his small form as he sat on the shaky limb depended upon his hold of the trunk, while the tremendous responsibility of holding his banana devolved upon the other hand.
Pee-wee was so much smaller than he should have been and the banana so much larger than it should have been that they might almost be said to have been of the same size.
The slender limb on which Pee-wee sat trembled and creaked with each enormous bite that he took. The bright morning sunlight, wriggling through the foliage overhead, picked out the round face and curly hair of our young hero and showed him in all his pristine glory, frowning a terrible frown, clinging for dear life with one hand and engaged in his customary occupation of eating.
He had ascended to this leafy throne with the banana in his pocket but he could not restore it to his pocket now even if he wished to. However, he did not wish to. In a military sense he was in a predicament, both arms were in bad strategic position and his center exposed to assault. His leafy throne was like many another throne in these eventful times—extremely shaky.
But the commissary department was in fine shape....
Suddenly the expeditionary forces of Uncle Sam appeared in the form of the postman, who paused on his way across the lawn to the house.
"Hello, up there," he said, suddenly discovering Pee-wee.
"Hello yourself and see how you like it," the mascot of the Ravens called down.
"I saw a banana up there and I thought maybe you were behind it," the postman called, as he looked among the pack of letters he held in his hand.
"It's only half a banana," Pee-wee shouted.
"Well, you're only half a scout," the postman said; "you'd better drop it, here's a letter for you."
"For me?"
"For you."
Steadying himself, Pee-wee took an enormous bite, considerably reducing the length of the banana. "Wait a minute till I finish it," he said as best he could with his mouth full. "Waaer—mint."
"Can't wait," the postman said, heartlessly moving away.
"Waymnt," Pee-wee yelled, frantically taking another bite; "wayermntdyehear, waymnt!"
"Do you think the government can wait for you to finish a banana?" the postman demanded with a 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....