LOST STOCKINGS. 1 85 
When Mrs. Maxwell came to prepare for 
breakfast, she found herself repeating Mr. Max- 
well’s experience. She shook and folded every 
article in the room, but not a sign of stockings 
appeared. 
“ Ready for breakfast ? ” 
“ No,” was her reply. 
“ Why, what’s the matter ? I thought you 
could dress in five minutes any time,” said Mr. 
Maxwell, re-entering the room. 
“ The rats have carried off my stockings ! ” and 
her face wore a comically deprecating look, as 
she stood on a folded blanket, exploring the 
depths of a valise on a stool before her. 
Mr. Maxwell’s reply was a laugh, and the 
question, “ Shall I comfort you as you did me a 
few minutes ago ? ” 
“ No, I thank you,” she replied. “ I had 
rather you would spend your energy in helping 
me hunt them up.” 
“ Oh, fie ! let them go.” 
But Mrs. Maxwell wouldn’t. She proposed to 
discover what 
“ Ways that are dark 
And tricks that are vain ” 
had been practised by those rats. The search 
began by removing a board from the chamber 
floor wherever a hole suggested the possibility 
that rats had passed that way. And what things 
