He stopped to consider whether he shouldn't turn around and retrace his
steps; but he was disturbed by the fear that he could never recognize the
mouth of the drain-pipe he had come through. He had passed a number of
these black holes on his way, all looking alike.

"I should have counted them, and then I'd know which one was mine," he
reflected.

But there was no good crying over spilt milk. He was in the abandoned
sewer, and he had to find his way out somehow. Meanwhile, he was getting
desperately hungry. Oh, for a mouthful of the succulent grass that grew in
the garden, or a cabbage leaf or a piece of celery--anything, in fact,
that would satisfy that gnawing at the stomach!

"Ah, well!" he sighed. "I must keep going until I find something to eat.
There must be other gardens, and this sewer must lead somewhere."

In a little while he became so thirsty that a drink of water seemed even
more desirable than a bite of food. He tried to lick some of the moisture
from the sides of the sewer, but that was only aggravating. It seemed to
increase rather than diminish his thirst.

One hopeful feature of his adventure was that the big sewer seemed to grow
lighter as he proceeded, and he was sure he was coming near the end. But
before this hope was realized he stumbled upon something that gave him a
shock.

Just ahead of him something long and black hung from the roof of the
sewer, reaching down almost to the bottom. Bumper stopped to gaze