The Jam Closet
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"TOM!"
No answer.
"TOM!"
The old lady pulled her spectacles down and looked over them about the room. Aunt Polly went to the open door and shouted into the garden. "Y-o-u-u TOM!"
There was a slight noise behind her. She turned just in time to seize a small boy by the slack of his jacket. "There! I might 'a' thought of that closet. What you been doing in there?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing! Look at your hands. And look at your mouth. It's jam—that's what it is. Forty times I've said if you didn't let that jam alone I'd skin you. Hand me that switch."
The switch hovered in the air—the peril was desperate!