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THE RAT 



the blue sky overhead, for the absence of the wind 

 whisthng through the branches of the trees, or 

 sighing and whispering in the summer leaves, for 

 the humming of the bees, and the joys of riverside 

 and cornfield or well- stocked barn, all of which I 

 should have to forego — and for what, after all ? 

 Just for the wild life of the slums, for the mysteries 

 of dark and endless tunnels, for mazes and laby- 

 rinths of brickwork, for roystering eaviaraderie 

 and good fellowship. No ! never would I turn my 

 back on the fields which I loved so well, and I 

 thrust the gaudy fancies from my mind. If the 

 whole truth must out, I believe that the very 

 absence of danger weighed not a little in the oppo- 

 site scale. When you have lived for a long time in 

 the presence of enemies, you come to look forward 

 with something akin to eager interest to what the 

 day or night may bring forth. When you have 

 once baffled the hungry hunters by superior 

 cunning, or speed of foot, or quickness of eye, or 

 keenness of scent, or even grip of savage tooth in 

 soft flesh, you come to take an honest pride in your 

 achievements, and the quick moment of death, 

 when it comes, as come it must one day, I sup- 

 pose, only gives you time for a flash of wonder 

 as to how it has come to pass, after all, that your 



