“What makes the candle blow so?” said Aunt Polly. Tom hurried up. “Why, that door’s open, I believe. Why, of course it is. No end of strange things now. Go ’long and shut it, Sid.”

Tom disappeared under the bed just in time. He lay and “breathed” himself for a time, and then crept to where he could almost touch his aunt’s foot.

“But as I was saying,” said Aunt Polly, “he warn’t bad , so to say⁠—only misch ee vous. Only just giddy, and harum-scarum, you know. He warn’t any more responsible than a colt. He never meant any harm, and he was the best-hearted boy that ever was”⁠—and she began to cry.