you are not allowed to see the results of your labor; and I had worked some months without a single hint of what I was about. I began to believe I had made a mistake. What good would it do me to work away in the dark, learning little or nothing, and without hope of doing better? My uncle would tell me nothing, and was provoked by being even questioned.
I became very much discouraged over my prospects, and wondered whether I ought not to confess I had made a mistake, and to begin the study of some regular profession.
How long I sat thinking, I cannot tell; but I was aroused by the faint flicker of my lamp as it went out, leaving me in perfect darkness.
As I groped about my room, looking for matches, I heard a rustling which seemed to come from the other side of the room. Then came tiny knockings, irregularly, and muffled shouting, as though far away.
By listening more intently I heard the sounds plainly enough to distinguish the squeaking of mice and—could I be mistaken?—a scream; very faint, it is true, but still a scream of fright.
"Ah!" said I to myself, "there must be mice in the closet! But what can the scream be?"
I went to the closet, and, opening the door, was amazed to see that the upper part was faintly lighted, as though by a big firefly. Puzzled at this, I brought a chair, and, climbing upon it, saw—a grand battle. Upon one end of the shelf was a flying host of mice. How they scurried away! Some jumped to the floor; some seemed to merely vanish, and they were gone!
While smiling at their panic, what was my surprise to hear from the other end of the shelf some one addressing me in a piping, little voice.
"Eh?" I exclaimed,—"did any one speak?"
