Fig. 2.
On one occasion a much-loved relative of mine had left me alone in her house while she drove over to the station to meet her husband. I did not wish to waste my time while she was away, and having nothing else to do, I cast my eye round for material. At last it lighted on an article of furniture: this was a bureau, highly prized by my much-loved relative. I have attempted, feebly, in the subjoined sketch to convey an idea of it, but am fully conscious that I am far from doing it justice. But this bureau was of solid mahogany, and had belonged to her grandmother—qualities enough to make anything dear to the heart of a true woman. On the side of this solid mahogany bureau I scrawled a ragged line with the sharp corner of a piece of soap, and gummed some of my screw-beads down each side of the mark, as in Fig. 2. Then I waited until my much-loved relative returned.
"Aunt," I said, in solemn tones, "look at the end of your mahogany bureau. It is all my fault, and I am as sorry as I can be. I know how you value it, and realize the extent of the disaster; but I've fixed it up as well as I can, and I guess it won't show much."
My aunt rushed to the bureau, and there she saw the patched and botched wreck.
"Oh dear!" cried she, "to think—just to think—how could you be so— I knew something would come of swinging those vile clubs. I'd rather have given a hundred dollars. It's too bad. And such a mess! Why didn't you wait till I could send for a proper man—a cabinet-maker or something—to mend it?"
Then she ran into the garden, and called to her husband: "Oh, George, do come here, and see what that boy has been doing! My dear mahogany grandmother's bureau all knocked to pieces, and patched together with big screws. Such a sight!"
As soon as my aunt left the room I seized a wet towel, and quickly removed all the appearance of damage, so that when she returned with her husband, and with averted face, bade him look upon the wreck, the mild old gentleman, after putting on his specs, and making a careful examination, reported that he could see nothing the matter.
"For pity's sake!—the man must be getting blind and foolish," cried my aunt. "It's as plain as Charley Meeker's nose on his face."
A discussion of some length here followed between my aunt and her husband, which was terminated by the lady stepping up to the bureau, with an air of triumph, to point out the broken places. Never before was seen such a perplexed woman. She looked and looked, and felt all over the precious piece of furniture with her finger, and, I believe, would have fairly gone demented had I not broken the spell by a roar of laughter. When I explained the trick I had played, she too laughed heartily, and boxed my ears, saying it was just like me, and that I was always up to some prank or another.