The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics — John Shaqi
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 18, No. 109, November, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
So Will went up there the next day, pretending he wanted Luke to come
and help about some mowing that was in hand. Luke's wife said that her
husband had not been out of bed for two days, with a hurt he got on the
cars the Saturday before. Then Will offered to go in and see if he could
not do something for him; but Mrs. Potter said that he was asleep, and,
having had a wakeful night, she guessed he had better not be disturbed.
Will felt sure of his man, and, knowing Potter's reckless audacity, made
extensive preparations for defence. He brought down from the garret a
rusty old gun and a powder-horn, hunted up the bullet-moulds, and run
ever so many little leaden balls before he discovered that they did not
fit the gun; but that, as he said, was of no consequence, because there
would be just as much noise, and it was not likely that any thief would
stay to be shot at twice.
So, notwithstanding our great fright, we grew to feel tolerably secure;
but we took good care to fasten the windows, and to set in a safer place
the articles which had so nearly been lost. Moreover, Will Bright was
moved into a little room at the head of the back stairs.
It was to be thought that Miss Stackpole would be completely overcome by
this midnight adventure; but she averred that, contrariwise, it had the
effect to rouse every atom of energy and spirit which she possessed. She
had waited only to slip on a double-gown, and, seizing the first article
fit for offensive service, which proved to be a feather duster, she
hurried to the scene of action. She said afterwards, that she had felt
equal to knocking down ten men, if they had come within her range. I
remember myself that she did look rather formidable. Her double-gown was
red and yellow; and her hair, wound up in little horn-shaped
_papillotes_, imparted to her face quite a bristly and fierce
expression.
Evidently, Rhoda was much exalted in Will Bright's esteem from that
eventful night.
"She's clear grit," said Will. "Who 'd have thought the little thing had
so much spunk in her? I declare I don't believe there's another one in
the house that would have done what she did."
The next forenoon, while Louise and I were sewing in grandmother's room,
Miss Stackpole came hurriedly in, looking quite excited.
"Aunt Margaret,--girls," said she, "do you know that, after all, you've
got a thief in the house? for you certainly have."
"Lucretia," said grandmother, "explain yourself; what do you mean now?"
"Why, I mean exactly what I said; there's no doubt that somebody in the
house is dishonest. I know it; I've lost a valuable pin."
"How valuable?" said grandmother, smiling,--"a diamond one?"
"You need not laugh, Aunt Margaret; it is one of these new pink coral
pins, and very expensive indeed. I shall make a stir about it, I can
tell you. A pity if I can't come here for a few days without having half
my things stolen!"
"And whom do you suspect of taking it?" said grandmother, coolly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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