IN WHICH HARRY REACHES THE CITY, AND THOUGH OFTEN DISAPPOINTED, TRIES AGAIN
Harry entered the cabin, and stretched himself on his bed of straw and leaves; but the fear that he should not wake in season to take the wagon at the appointed place, would scarcely permit him to close his eyes. He had not yet made up for the sleep he had lost; and Nature, not sharing his misgiving, at last closed and sealed his eyelids.
It would be presumptuous for me to attempt to inform the reader what Harry dreamed about on that eventful night; but I can guess that it was about angels, about bright faces and sweet smiles, and that they were very pleasant dreams. At any rate, he slept very soundly, as tired boys are apt to sleep, even when they are anxious about getting up early in the morning.
He woke, at last, with a start; for with his first consciousness came the remembrance of the early appointment. He sprang from his bed, and threw down the door of the cabin. It was still dark; the stars twinkled above, the owls screamed, and the frogs sang merrily around him. He had no means of ascertaining the time of night. It might be twelve; it might be four; and his uncertainty on this point filled him with anxiety. Better too early than too late; and grasping the basket and the Bible, which were to be the companions of his journey, he hastened down the cart path to the turnpike.
There was no sound of approaching wheels to cheer him, and the clock in the meeting house at Rockville obstinately refused to strike. He reached the designated place; there was no wagon there. Perhaps he was too late. The thought filled him with chagrin; and he was reading himself a very severe lesson for having permitted himself to sleep at all, when the church clock graciously condescended to relieve his anxiety by striking the hour.
"One," said he, almost breathless with interest.
"Two," he repeated, loud enough to be heard, if there had been any one to hear him.
"Three"; and he held his breath, waiting for more.
"No more!" he added, with disappointment and chagrin, when it was certain that the clock did not mean to strike another stroke. "I have lost my chance. What a fool I have been! Miss Julia will think that I am a smart fellow, when she finds that her efforts to get me off have been wasted. Why did I go to sleep? I might have known that I should not wake;" and he stamped his foot upon the ground with impatience.
He had been caught napping, and had lost the wagon. He was never so mortified in his life. One who was so careless did not deserve to succeed.