AFTER DARK. 
NOW there was, and a silver moon, and 
delicate tracery of the shadows of branches, 
and a frozen pond, and dead leaves all brown, 
and the roof of the old farm-house nestling, all 
white, among the grand, tall trees, and no end 
of a racket in the rickyard. 
Some creatures were whirling about among 
the snow and the straw there. There were 
several of them tumbling about and grumbling 
like fiends in a continuous, wicked gibber. 
Then they separated—flew apart, literally— 
and, dashing away into the shadows, left only 
two behind. One of these two lay motionless 
on the ground, quite dead; and he was the 
smaller. The other hopped slowly towards 
the gate; and he was the larger. And they 
were all rats. 
The big fellow went slowly, to the accom- 
paniment of a big chorus of low, intense 
grumbles that followed him from every 
shadow, from every scrap of cover, wherein 
could be seen little, gleaming eyes in pairs. 
Once or twice this big chap turned sharply, 
as a sudden rustling of straw here and there 
in the dark places seemed to herald a concerted 
rush upon him ; but it never came to anything, 
