Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1876Various
History
Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, Volume 17, No. 101, May, 1876
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- Periodicals
the whole room and on my aunt's yellow, waxen hair.
And there is the watch! It is hanging behind the bed in an embroidered
watch-pocket on the wall. That's lucky! I hesitate, but there is no
use in delaying. But what are these--soft, quick footsteps behind me?
Oh no, it is only my heart beating. I take a step forward. Heavens!
Something round and quite large touches me just below the knee once
and then again. I am on the point of crying out: I am near sinking to
the ground with terror. A striped cat, our cat, stands before me
with her back curved and her tail in the air. Now she jumps on the
bed--heavily but softly--turns round and sits without purring, looking
at me with her yellow eyes as grave as a judge. "Puss! puss!" I
whisper hardly above my breath, and leaning over her and over my aunt,
I take hold of the watch. Suddenly my aunt raises herself, and opens
her eyes wide. Heavens! what is going to happen now? But the lids
quiver and close, and with a gentle murmur her head sinks back on the
cushion. Another moment and I am back in my own room, in bed, with the
watch in my hand. I come back lighter than a feather. I am a man; I am
a thief; I am a hero. I am breathless with joy; I glow with pride;
I am happy, and I will wake up David and tell him all about it; and
then, strange to say, I fall asleep and sleep like the dead. At last
I open my eyes; it is light in my room; the sun has already risen.
Fortunately, no one is yet awake. I spring up as if I were shot: I
wake David and confide the whole story to him. He listens and smiles.
"Do you know what we'll do?" he said at last: "we'll bury this stupid
watch in the ground, so that there shall be nothing left of it."
I consider this an admirable plan, and in a few minutes we dress
ourselves, run into the orchard behind the house, and when we have dug
a deep hole in the soft earth with David's knife, we bury beneath an
old apple tree my godfather's hated present, which now will never fall
into the hands of the disagreeable Trankwillitatin. We throw back the
earth, sprinkle rubbish over the spot, and, proud and happy, without
being seen, we return to the house, go back to bed, and enjoy for
another hour a light, happy sleep.
X.
You can imagine what a row there was the next morning when my aunt
woke up and missed the watch. To this day her piercing cry resounds in
my ears. "Help! robbers!" she shrieked, and alarmed the whole house.
But David and I only smiled quietly to ourselves, and our smiles were
sweet. "Every one must be punished," screamed my aunt. "The watch
has been taken from beneath my head--from beneath my pillow!" We
were prepared for everything, for the worst, but, contrary to our
expectations, it all blew over.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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