"ElizaLeeFollen-TheTalkativeWig" - читать интересную книгу автора (Follen Eliza Lee)

lived in a remote and very quiet country town, he had not many
culprits brought before him. But occasionally he was called upon to
decide upon the proper punishment of some young rogue, and now and
then he had to marry a couple.

At these times, I was always smoothed and new pomatumed with the
greatest care, then put on very carefully, and examined in the
looking glass two or three times, and readjusted over and over, till
I was as even as justice itself, before the Squire took his gold-
headed cane, and proceeded to consider the case.

Once a boy was brought before him for stealing chestnuts. Now there
was such an abundance of chestnuts in the town that they were almost
thought common property. It happened, however, that the Squire had
some fine chestnuts himself, and he wished it to be considered an
unpardonable thing to steal chestnuts. So he condemned the boy's
father to pay a very good price for those his son had stolen,
leaving it to the man from whom the chestnuts had been taken to say
how large the quantity was.

This unjust decision made the man and his son very angry. But my
master was the Squire; and, in those old times, we retained a great
deal of the English reverence for a country gentleman.

The son of this man, however, had not much reverence for any thing,
and was determined to be revenged upon the Squire, as you will see.
I, however, was the greatest sufferer. It so happened that the pew
in which the boy sat at church was directly behind the Squire's. The
boy carried a piece of shoemaker's wax to meeting with him, and
when, as was usually the case, the Squire's queue came over the edge
of the pew, the young rascal took the opportunity, when no one was
looking, to stick the short queue fast with the wax to the side of
the pew.

When the Squire stood up, his wig was nearly jerked off his head,
and would have been quite off, but for the boy's father who, seeing
the good gentleman's danger, caught hold of me, tore off the horrid
wax, and then pushed me back into my place.

All the foolish children in the church giggled at my expense. The
simple Squire, thinking it was a nail or a hook, thanked the man who
had aided him in his distress, and advised him to take out the
troublesome hook. Cato, however, shook his black head and said,
"Guess naughty Pickaninny did de queue of Massa's wig. Neber mind,
Cato no make trouble; queue no feelins; I smood him up. Dem
chestnuts in his gizzard, spoze."

Not long after this, the poor Squire lost his wife. Her health had
always been very delicate, and he had been a most devoted husband.