Though I lost time by this experiment, I did not lose courage, but,
dreading a surprise, I put off the attempt till next day, when I hoped to
be more successful, and returned to my work as if nothing had happened,
without once thinking of what the two obvious witnesses I had left in the
pantry deposed against me.

The next day (a fine opportunity offering) I renew the trial. I fasten
the spits together; get on the stool; take aim; am just going to dart at
my prey--unfortunately the dragon did not sleep; the pantry door opens,
my master makes his appearance, and, looking up, exclaims, "Bravo!"
--The horror of that moment returns--the pen drops from my hand.

A continual repetition of ill treatment rendered me callous; it seemed a
kind of composition for my crimes, which authorized me to continue them,
and, instead of looking back at the punishment, I looked forward to
revenge. Being beat like a slave, I judged I had a right to all the
vices of one. I was convinced that to rob and be punished were
inseparable, and constituted, if I may so express myself, a kind of
traffic, in which, if I perform my part of the bargain, my master would
take care not to be deficient in his; that preliminary settled, I applied
myself to thieving with great tranquility, and whenever this
interrogatory occurred to my mind, "What will be the consequence?" the
reply was ready, "I know the worst, I shall be beat; no matter, I was
made for it."

I love good eating; am sensual, but not greedy; I have such a variety of
inclinations to gratify, that this can never predominate; and unless my
heart is unoccupied, which very rarely happens, I pay but little
attention to my appetite; to purloining eatables, but extended this