92 FIVE ACRES TOO MUCH. 



In the midst of our troubles, the rope broke not 

 the golden cord, fortunately, of any member of the 

 household, but the cord that was fastened to the 

 pail. Here was a dilemma ! To fish up a bucket 

 out of forty feet of darkness was difficult ; to use an 

 other pail till the first was removed was impossible. 

 I began to think it w r ould be necessary to dig a new 

 well, when I was informed that a man could climb 

 down the present one. This seemed to me a feat 

 worthy of Hanlon; but I was prepared for the last 

 extremities, even death itself provided it was not 

 iny own and simply said, &quot;Let him do it,&quot; as 

 though seeing men cling to a slippery wall of stones, 

 like a fly on a pane of glass, had been the commonest 

 experience of my life. How he managed I did not 

 care to see ; but that he did go to the bottom was 

 proved by what he brought up, which was, not the 

 pail, but a dead cat ! 



Cats are a singular and unreliable race ; they nev 

 er possess the intelligence of dogs, and are given to 

 strange vagaries. They roam about continually, and 

 wander no one knows whither ; but what should take 

 a cat to the bottom of my well I can not understand. 

 They are graceful creatures, and old maids and lit 

 tle children think them handsome ; but, after they 

 have been in water for three weeks, and become 



