it were a feather-bed; and also considerably more than if it were hay or
straw. Besides inflicting upon my own excited imagination the belief that
I made noise enough to be heard by the inmates of the house who were
likely to be rising at the time, I had the misfortune to attract the
notice of a little house-dog, such as we call in that part of the world a
"fice," on account of its being not only the smallest species of the
canine race, but also, because it is the most saucy, noisy, and teasing
of all dogs. This little creature commenced a fierce barking. I had at
once great fears that the mischievous little thing would betray me; I
fully apprehended that as soon as the man of the house arose, he would
come and make search in the barn. It now being entirely daylight, it was
too late to retreat from this shelter, even if I could have found another;
I, therefore, bedded myself down into the fodder as best I could, and
entered upon the annoyances of the day, with the frail hope to sustain my
mind.

It was Thursday morning; the clouds that had veiled the sky during the
latter part of the previous day and the previous night were gone. It was
not until about an hour after the sun rose that I heard any out-door
movements about the house. As soon as I heard those movements, I was
satisfied there was but one man about the house, and that he was preparing
to go some distance to work for the day. This was fortunate for me; the
busy movements about the yard, and especially the active preparations in
the house for breakfast, silenced my unwelcome little annoyer, the fice,
until after the man had gone, when he commenced afresh, and continued with
occasional intermissions through the day. He made regular sallies from the
house to the barn, and after smelling about, would fly back to the house,
barking furiously; thus he strove most skilfully throughout the entire day
to raise an alarm. There seemed to be no one about the house but one or
two small children and the mother, after the man was gone. About ten