Fortunately my grandmother began napping again, and I resumed my task.  Applying the oil with a bird’s wing was a lavish process—­the wheels moved easily; the hands became quite slippy; the moon “rose and set” to order; the days of the month glided thirty times a minute, and I was just using a pin to prove the material of the dial when my grandmother turned her head, at the same time reaching for her cane (the emergency had been foreseen and special care had I taken that the cane should not be forthcoming).  “Nancy!  Nancy! is thee crazy?”

Thinking to strengthen this idea, I jumped into the clock and held the door fast; but finally thinking ’twas cowardly not to face it I jumped out again, up into the chair, saying, “I am mending this old clock;” and notwithstanding her remonstrances, continued my work putting back the various pieces.  When I was afraid of “giving out and giving up,” I decided I would just answer her back once and say “I wont.”  The wickedness would certainly discourage her beyond a hope, and then I could finish.

So I put the moon on, staring full; in putting on the hands I got, I thought, sufficiently worked up to venture my prepared reply to her repeated “get down!”

I accordingly approached my grandmother, stopping some feet from her; bent my body half-over, my long red hair covering my eyes, and my head suiting its action to my earnestness, and in a decided rebellious tone, I spelled, “I W-O-N-T;” but accidently giving myself a turn on my heel I fell to the floor, with the pronunciation still unexpressed.

I quickly rose, though I saw stars without any “two cents,” and returned to, and finished my work.  I had just put the last touch on when I heard the wheels.  How I dreaded my aunt’s appearance!  As she entered the door I was found “demurely rocking” to the pictures in the andirons.

My aunt thought I did not seem natural, and kissed me as being “too good, perhaps, to be well.”  My grandmother tried to speak, but I interrupted: 

“I must go home without my tea.  I am not afraid of the dark, and I better go.”

This was another proof of indisposition to the aunt.  I left the house, kissing as I thought, my grandmother into silence; but as I looked back I saw she could not utter a word without laughing at the aunt’s anxiety, and so had to put off the narration till after my departure.

I went home about as fast as possible; desired to go to bed immediately—­never went before without being sent, and then not in a very good mood.  My mother followed me with a talk of “herb tea,” and as I thought I must have some “end to the farce,” I agreed that a little might do me good.  My mother consequently brought me, I do believe, a “Scripture measure” pint of bitter tea, which I hurriedly drank, as I knew my sisters had already started for my grandmother’s, to see how I had been through the afternoon.  When they returned, though I heard the laughing and talking in the sitting-room below, I was, to all intents and purposes, sound asleep and snoring.