I gave Mike a dollar,
with instructions to keep Budge in sight, to keep him from teasing
the goat, and to prevent his being impaled or butted. Then I
stretched myself on a lounge, and wondered whether only half a day
of daylight had elapsed since I and the most adorable woman in the
world had been so happy together. How much happier I would be when
next I met her! The very torments of this rainy day would make my
joy seem all the dearer and more intense. I dreamed happily for a
few moments with my eyes open, and then somehow they closed,
without my knowledge. What put into my mind the wreck-scene from
the play of "David Copperfield," I don't know; but there it came,
and in my dream I was sitting in the balcony at Booth's, and
taking a proper interest in the scene, when it occurred to me that
the thunder had less of reverberation and more woodenness than
good stage thunder should have. The mental exertion I underwent on
this subject disturbed the course of my nap, but as wakefulness
returned, the sound of the poorly simulated thunder did not cease;
on the contrary, it was just as noisy, and more hopelessly a
counterfeit than ever. What could the sound be? I stepped through
the window to the piazza, and the sound was directly over my head.
I sprang down the terrace and out upon the lawn, looked up, and
beheld my youngest nephew strutting back and forth on the tin roof
of the piazza, holding over his head a ragged old parasol.
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