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All this time it was incessantly hopping on behind and gaining on

him, so that when the boy got to his own door he had reason for

being half dead. And even then it would not leave him, but

followed him upstairs with a bump on every stair, scrambled into

bed with him, and bumped down, dead and heavy, on his breast when

he fell asleep.

From his oppressed slumber, Young Jerry in his closet was

awakened after daybreak and before sunrise, by the presence of

his father in the family room. Something had gone wrong with him;

at least, so Young Jerry inferred, from the circumstance of his

holding Mrs. Cruncher by the ears, and knocking the back of her

head against the head-board of the bed.

"I told you I would," said Mr. Cruncher, "and I did."

"Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!" his wife implored.

"You oppose yourself to the profit of the business," said Jerry,

"and me and my partners suffer. You was to honour and obey; why

the devil don't you?"