"
* * * * *
It was bedtime, and Timothy was in his little room carrying on the most
elaborate and complicated plots for reading the future. It must be known
that Jabe Slocum was as full of signs as a Farmer's Almanac, and he had
given Timothy more than one formula for attaining his secret
desires,--old, well-worn recipes for luck, which had been tried for
generations in Pleasant River, and which were absolutely "certain" in
their results. The favorites were:--
"Star bright, star light,
First star I've seen to-night,
Wish I may, wish I might,
Get the wish I wish to-night;"
and one still more impressive:--
"Four posts upon my bed,
Four corners overhead;
Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,
Bless the bed I _lay_ upon.
Matthew, John, Luke, and Mark,
Grant my wish and keep it dark."
These rhymes had been chanted with great solemnity, and Timothy sat by
the open window in the sweet darkness of the summer night, wishing that
he and Gay might stay forever in this sheltered spot. "I'll make a sign
of my very own," he thought. "I'll get Gay's ankle-tie, and put it on
the window-sill, with the toe pointing out. Then I'll wish that if we
are going to stay at the White Farm, the angels will turn it around,
'toe in' to the room, for a sign to me; and if we've got to go, I'll
wish they may leave it the other way; and, oh dear, but I'm glad it's so
little and easy to move; and then I'll say Matthew, Mark, Luke, and
John, four times over, without stopping, as Jabe told me to, and then
see how it turns out in the morning.
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