Tom was panting with his exertions by this time. He took a rest and then
swelled himself up and fetched a succession of admirable groans.
Sid snored on.
Tom was aggravated. He said, Sid, Sid! and shook him. This course
worked well, and Tom began to groan again. Sid yawned, stretched, then
brought himself up on his elbow with a snort, and began to stare at Tom.
Tom went on groaning. Sid said:
Tom! Say, Tom! [No response.] Here, Tom! TOM! What is the matter,
Tom? And he shook him and looked in his face anxiously.
Tom moaned out:
Oh, don t, Sid. Don t joggle me.
Why, what s the matter, Tom? I must call auntie.
No never mind. It ll be over by and by, maybe. Don t call anybody.
But I must! _Don t_ groan so, Tom, it s awful. How long you been this
way?
Hours. Ouch! Oh, don t stir so, Sid, you ll kill me.
Tom, why didn t you wake me sooner? Oh, Tom, _don t!_ It makes my flesh
crawl to hear you. Tom, what is the matter?
I forgive you everything, Sid. [Groan.] Everything you ve ever done to
me. When I m gone
Oh, Tom, you ain t dying, are you? Don t, Tom oh, don t. Maybe
I forgive everybody, Sid. [Groan.] Tell em so, Sid. And Sid, you give
my window-sash and my cat with one eye to that new girl that s come to
town, and tell her
But Sid had snatched his clothes and gone. Tom was suffering in reality,
47