A SHARP GIRL.
The sun rose as usual the next morning, and Jeffries was awakened by its rays peeping through his door; he rubbed his eyes, then sat upright.
“Wal, old yeller-face;” he addressed Old Sol. “Yer’ve cotched a weasel asleep this yer time, fur a fact. Wal, I’ll be durned! a-sleeping at sun-up! Bob Jeffries, this yer won’t do; won’t go down; it’s a lazy trick.”
He arose, stretched himself, and called out:
“Hullo, in thar! you napping, too, gal? Heigho! arise! wake up! go ter the ant, thou sluggard, etc., etc. Katie, Kitty, Puss, Tabby, wake up!”
He received no reply; he called again:
“Come, Kate, come! it’s time to get up.”
Still he received no reply; he marveled, for she was generally up and about before he was, and once calling was sufficient. He opened the door and looked in, dreading some evil.
What was his surprise at not seeing her there. He was alarmed.
The bed had been occupied, but her clothing was gone, together with her own self; the window was open, and she had left by that means of egress.