If she warn’t standing right there, just inside the door, looking as sweet and contented as an angel half full of pie, I wish I may never!

Aunt Sally jumped for her, and most hugged the head off of her, and cried over her, and I found a good enough place for me under the bed, for it was getting pretty sultry for us, seemed to me. And I peeped out, and in a little while Tom’s Aunt Polly shook herself loose and stood there looking across at Tom over her spectacles⁠—kind of grinding him into the earth, you know. And then she says:

“Yes, you better turn y’r head away⁠—I would if I was you, Tom.”

“Oh, deary me!” says Aunt Sally; “ Is he changed so? Why, that ain’t Tom , it’s Sid; Tom’s⁠—Tom’s⁠—why, where is Tom? He was here a minute ago.”