ON A GLASS ROOF 131 



many weeks. Sunbeams, moonlight, and rays of 

 stars had come to them but dimly and distorted 

 in their recent quiet life; but they seemed satisfied 

 with it, undisturbed by the tumult of winter storms 

 and buffeting of waves, and had no desire to see 

 anything of the world aboveboard. 



For an hour I had such exciting sport as fishing 

 in the well or cistern at home would have afforded, 

 for not a bite did I get. It made it none the pleas- 

 anter to see my neighbors hauling out both perch 

 and smelt, while my bait — tempting enough for 

 the best of them, I thought — dangled untouched, 

 if not unnoticed, by even the least minnow. I 

 began to imagine my luckier or more skillful neigh- 

 bors the fishermen laughing at me, if they were 

 not too busy with their own affairs, and doubted 

 not that my nearer neighbors of the nether world 

 were on the broad grin, peering up at me. 



"How many miles has he come just to show 

 himself to us? And not much to look at at that, 

 for he is not handsome, neither is he terrible, like 

 the Canucks who are making such havoc among 

 our friends over there. Does he look rather green? 

 Or is it only that we see him through this emerald 

 water?" 



Some such whispers, I fancied, came from below. 

 I made my line fast to a stick laid across the hole, 

 and went visiting, for lack of something better to 

 do, which is a winter custom in these parts. 



