CHAPTER III

Tom presented himself before Aunt Polly, who was sitting by anrnopen window in a pleasant rearward apartment, which was bedroom,rnbreakfast-room, dining-room, and library, combined. The balmy summerrnair, the restful quiet, the odor of the flowers, and the drowsingrnmurmur of the bees had had their effect, and she was nodding over herrnknitting—for she had no company but the cat, and it was asleep in herrnlap. Her spectacles were propped up on her gray head for safety. She hadrnthought that of course Tom had deserted long ago, and she wondered atrnseeing him place himself in her power again in this intrepid way. Hernsaid: “Mayn’t I go and play now, aunt?”rnrn“What, a’ready? How much have you done?”rnrn“It’s all done, aunt.”rnrn“Tom, don’t lie to me—I can’t bear it.”rnrn“I ain’t, aunt; it _is_ all done.”rnrnAunt Polly placed small trust in such evidence. She went out to see forrnherself; and she would have been content to find twenty per cent. ofrnTom’s statement true. When she found the entire fence white-washed, andrnnot only whitewashed but elaborately coated and recoated, and even arnstreak added to the ground, her astonishment was almost unspeakable. Shernsaid:rnrn“Well, I never! There’s no getting round it, you can work when you’re arnmind to, Tom.” And then she diluted the compliment by adding, “But it’srnpowerful seldom you’re a mind to, I’m bound to say. Well, go ’long andrnplay; but mind you get back some time in a week, or I’ll tan you.”rnrnShe was so overcome by the splendor of his achievement that she tookrnhim into the closet and selected a choice apple and delivered it to him,rnalong with an improving lecture upon the added value and flavor a treatrntook to itself when it came without sin through virtuous effort.rnAnd while she closed with a happy Scriptural flourish, he “hooked” arndoughnut.rnrnThen he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairwayrnthat led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy andrnthe air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like arnhail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised facultiesrnand sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect,rnand Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a generalrnthing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was atrnpeace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to hisrnblack thread and getting him into trouble.rnrnTom skirted the block, and came round into a muddy alley that led by thernback of his aunt’s cow-stable. He presently got safely beyond the reachrnof capture and punishment, and hastened toward the public square of thernvillage, where two “military” companies of boys had met for conflict,rnaccording to previous appointment. Tom was General of one of thesernarmies, Joe Harper (a bosom friend) General of the other. These tworngreat commanders did not condescend to fight in person—that being betterrnsuited to the still smaller fry—but sat together on an eminencernand conducted the field operations by orders delivered throughrnaides-de-camp. Tom’s army won a great victory, after a long andrnhard-fought battle. Then the dead were counted, prisoners exchanged,rnthe terms of the next disagreement agreed upon, and the day for thernnecessary battle appointed; after which the armies fell into line andrnmarched away, and Tom turned homeward alone.rnrnAs he was passing by the house where Jeff Thatcher lived, he saw a newrngirl in the garden—a lovely little blue-eyed creature with yellowrnhair plaited into two long-tails, white summer frock and embroideredrnpantalettes. The fresh-crowned hero fell without firing a shot. Arncertain Amy Lawrence vanished out of his heart and left not even arnmemory of herself behind. He had thought he loved her to distraction;rnhe had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poorrnlittle evanescent partiality. He had been months winning her; she hadrnconfessed hardly a week ago; he had been the happiest and the proudestrnboy in the world only seven short days, and here in one instant of timernshe had gone out of his heart like a casual stranger whose visit isrndone.rnrnHe worshipped this new angel with furtive eye, till he saw that she hadrndiscovered him; then he pretended he did not know she was present, andrnbegan to “show off” in all sorts of absurd boyish ways, in order to winrnher admiration. He kept up this grotesque foolishness for some time;rnbut by-and-by, while he was in the midst of some dangerous gymnasticrnperformances, he glanced aside and saw that the little girl was wendingrnher way toward the house. Tom came up to the fence and leaned on it,rngrieving, and hoping she would tarry yet awhile longer. She halted arnmoment on the steps and then moved toward the door. Tom heaved a greatrnsigh as she put her foot on the threshold. But his face lit up,rnright away, for she tossed a pansy over the fence a moment before sherndisappeared.rnrnThe boy ran around and stopped within a foot or two of the flower, andrnthen shaded his eyes with his hand and began to look down street asrnif he had discovered something of interest going on in that direction.rnPresently he picked up a straw and began trying to balance it on hisrnnose, with his head tilted far back; and as he moved from side to side,rnin his efforts, he edged nearer and nearer toward the pansy; finally hisrnbare foot rested upon it, his pliant toes closed upon it, and he hoppedrnaway with the treasure and disappeared round the corner. But only for arnminute—only while he could button the flower inside his jacket, nextrnhis heart—or next his stomach, possibly, for he was not much posted inrnanatomy, and not hypercritical, anyway.rnrnHe returned, now, and hung about the fence till nightfall, “showingrnoff,” as before; but the girl never exhibited herself again, though Tomrncomforted himself a little with the hope that she had been near somernwindow, meantime, and been aware of his attentions. Finally he strodernhome reluctantly, with his poor head full of visions.rnrnAll through supper his spirits were so high that his aunt wondered “whatrnhad got into the child.” He took a good scolding about clodding Sid, andrndid not seem to mind it in the least. He tried to steal sugar under hisrnaunt’s very nose, and got his knuckles rapped for it. He said:rnrn“Aunt, you don’t whack Sid when he takes it.”rnrn“Well, Sid don’t torment a body the way you do. You’d be always intornthat sugar if I warn’t watching you.”rnrnPresently she stepped into the kitchen, and Sid, happy in his immunity,rnreached for the sugar-bowl—a sort of glorying over Tom which wasrnwellnigh unbearable. But Sid’s fingers slipped and the bowl dropped andrnbroke. Tom was in ecstasies. In such ecstasies that he even controlledrnhis tongue and was silent. He said to himself that he would not speak arnword, even when his aunt came in, but would sit perfectly still till shernasked who did the mischief; and then he would tell, and there would bernnothing so good in the world as to see that pet model “catch it.” He wasrnso brimful of exultation that he could hardly hold himself when the oldrnlady came back and stood above the wreck discharging lightnings of wrathrnfrom over her spectacles. He said to himself, “Now it’s coming!” And thernnext instant he was sprawling on the floor! The potent palm was upliftedrnto strike again when Tom cried out:rnrn“Hold on, now, what ’er you belting _me_ for?—Sid broke it!”rnrnAunt Polly paused, perplexed, and Tom looked for healing pity. But whenrnshe got her tongue again, she only said:rnrn“Umf! Well, you didn’t get a lick amiss, I reckon. You been into somernother audacious mischief when I wasn’t around, like enough.”rnrnThen her conscience reproached her, and she yearned to say somethingrnkind and loving; but she judged that this would be construed into arnconfession that she had been in the wrong, and discipline forbade that.rnSo she kept silence, and went about her affairs with a troubled heart.rnTom sulked in a corner and exalted his woes. He knew that in her heartrnhis aunt was on her knees to him, and he was morosely gratified by thernconsciousness of it. He would hang out no signals, he would take noticernof none. He knew that a yearning glance fell upon him, now and then,rnthrough a film of tears, but he refused recognition of it. He picturedrnhimself lying sick unto death and his aunt bending over him beseechingrnone little forgiving word, but he would turn his face to the wall, andrndie with that word unsaid. Ah, how would she feel then? And he picturedrnhimself brought home from the river, dead, with his curls all wet, andrnhis sore heart at rest. How she would throw herself upon him, and howrnher tears would fall like rain, and her lips pray God to give her backrnher boy and she would never, never abuse him any more! But he wouldrnlie there cold and white and make no sign—a poor little sufferer, whoserngriefs were at an end. He so worked upon his feelings with the pathos ofrnthese dreams, that he had to keep swallowing, he was so like to choke;rnand his eyes swam in a blur of water, which overflowed when he winked,rnand ran down and trickled from the end of his nose. And such a luxury tornhim was this petting of his sorrows, that he could not bear to have anyrnworldly cheeriness or any grating delight intrude upon it; it was toornsacred for such contact; and so, presently, when his cousin Mary dancedrnin, all alive with the joy of seeing home again after an age-long visitrnof one week to the country, he got up and moved in clouds and darknessrnout at one door as she brought song and sunshine in at the other.rnrnHe wandered far from the accustomed haunts of boys, and sought desolaternplaces that were in harmony with his spirit. A log raft in the riverrninvited him, and he seated himself on its outer edge and contemplatedrnthe dreary vastness of the stream, wishing, the while, that he couldrnonly be drowned, all at once and unconsciously, without undergoing thernuncomfortable routine devised by nature. Then he thought of his flower.rnHe got it out, rumpled and wilted, and it mightily increased his dismalrnfelicity. He wondered if she would pity him if she knew? Would sherncry, and wish that she had a right to put her arms around his neck andrncomfort him? Or would she turn coldly away like all the hollow world?rnThis picture brought such an agony of pleasurable suffering that hernworked it over and over again in his mind and set it up in new andrnvaried lights, till he wore it threadbare. At last he rose up sighingrnand departed in the darkness.rnrnAbout half-past nine or ten o’clock he came along the deserted street tornwhere the Adored Unknown lived; he paused a moment; no sound fell uponrnhis listening ear; a candle was casting a dull glow upon the curtainrnof a second-story window. Was the sacred presence there? He climbed thernfence, threaded his stealthy way through the plants, till he stood underrnthat window; he looked up at it long, and with emotion; then he laid himrndown on the ground under it, disposing himself upon his back, with hisrnhands clasped upon his breast and holding his poor wilted flower.rnAnd thus he would die—out in the cold world, with no shelter over hisrnhomeless head, no friendly hand to wipe the death-damps from his brow,rnno loving face to bend pityingly over him when the great agony came. Andrnthus _she_ would see him when she looked out upon the glad morning, andrnoh! would she drop one little tear upon his poor, lifeless form, wouldrnshe heave one little sigh to see a bright young life so rudely blighted,rnso untimely cut down?rnrnThe window went up, a maid-servant’s discordant voice profaned the holyrncalm, and a deluge of water drenched the prone martyr’s remains!rnrnThe strangling hero sprang up with a relieving snort. There was a whizrnas of a missile in the air, mingled with the murmur of a curse, a soundrnas of shivering glass followed, and a small, vague form went over thernfence and shot away in the gloom.rnrnNot long after, as Tom, all undressed for bed, was surveying hisrndrenched garments by the light of a tallow dip, Sid woke up; but if hernhad any dim idea of making any “references to allusions,” he thoughtrnbetter of it and held his peace, for there was danger in Tom’s eye.rnrnTom turned in without the added vexation of prayers, and Sid made mentalrnnote of the omission.