Page:Sylvester Sound the Somnambulist (1844).djvu/28

 For twenty years she had lived in that cottage, and although her pecuniary means were comparatively large, her establishment was small, inasmuch as it consisted only of a cook, a housemaid, and a gardener, who officiated also as groom. By her uniform kindness she had completely won the hearts of these domestics: they were strongly, deeply attached to her, and hence, when they flew to the gate as the chaise drew up, they welcomed her home indeed.

Knowing the time exactly at which her mistress would return, the cook had prepared a delicious dinner, which, as soon as Aunt Eleanor had changed her dress, was served up with characteristic elegance.

And Sylvester—albeit calm and silent—did justice to the viands prepared; and Aunt Eleanor, in, order to cheer him, insisted upon his taking two glasses of wine!—but finding after dinner that he still felt languid, she—conceiving that the excitement of the preceding day, and the journey that morning, had exhausted his spirits—prevailed upon him to retire to his chamber, and enjoined the servants not to disturb him.

To his chamber Sylvester accordingly repaired, and having partially undressed himself, reposed on the bed and went to sleep. He had not, however, slept ten minutes, when he began to dream of the nectarines and peaches he had seen on the wall of the parsonage garden, and being inspired to action by the dinner he had eaten, and the wine—the two glasses of wine—he had drank, he re-dressed himself, and left the cottage unperceived.

As he quietly walked towards the garden of the parsonage, none could have supposed that he was then fast asleep!—his eyes were open, and he looked—not vacantly, nor with an intense stare, but precisely as if he had been awake—at every object he passed. And thus he reached the garden wall, which he mounted with alacrity and ease, and having cleared from a very convenient spot the broken bottles, which the reverend gentleman had most humanely caused to be stuck upon the wall—in reality with the view of phlebotomizing trespassers, but nominally in order to keep off the cats—he sat down and freely partook of the peaches, which really were very fine indeed. And he enjoyed them much, and ate no inconsiderable quantity of them, for they were in his judgment delicious; but just as he had eaten to satiety, the reverend gentleman, to whom the fruit legally belonged, espied him, and, having recovered from the shock, which this proceeding—which he held to be one of the most barefaced audacity—induced, rushed into the garden with all the velocity his shortness of breath, and portliness of person would permit, exclaiming, "Jones! Jones!" in tones of indignation—for he really was very indignant at the time—and in an instant Jones, the gardener, appeared.

"Jones," he continued, pointing fiercely to Sylvester; "that's how the peaches go!—that's the way!"

Jones looked at Sylvester utterly astounded. Was it—could it be—possible? And that, too, before his very eyes! He was about to spring upon him with all the ferocity of a tiger; but Sylvester, having eaten all the peaches he could eat, at that moment dropped from the wall, and disappeared.