this aperture I pushed a large empty chest, and having
mounted upon it a smaller box, and wiped from both the dust, I gathered
my dress (my best, the reader must remember, and therefore a legitimate
object of care) fastidiously around me, ascended this species of
extempore throne, and being seated, commenced the acquisition of my
task; while I learned, not forgetting to keep a sharp look-out on the
black-beetles and cockroaches, of which, more even, I believe, than of
the rats, I sat in mortal dread.

My impression at first was that I had undertaken what it really was
impossible to perform, and I simply resolved to do my best and be
resigned to fail. I soon found, however, that one part in so short a
piece was not more than memory could master at a few hours' notice. I
learned and learned on, first in a whisper, and then aloud. Perfectly
secure from human audience, I acted my part before the garret-vermin.
Entering into its emptiness, frivolity, and falsehood, with a spirit
inspired by scorn and impatience, I took my revenge on this "fat," by
making him as fatuitous as I possibly could.

In this exercise the afternoon passed: day began to glide into evening;
and I, who had eaten nothing since breakfast, grew excessively hungry.
Now I thought of the collation, which doubtless they were just then
devouring in the garden far below. (I had seen in the vestibule a
basketful of small _pates a la creme_, than which nothing in the whole
range of cookery seemed to me better). A _pate_, or a square of cake,
it seemed to me would come very _apropos;_ and as my relish for those
dainties increased, it began to appear somewhat hard that I should pass
my holiday, fasting and in prison. Remote as was the attic from the
street-door and vestibule, yet the ever-tinkling bell was faintly
audible here; and also the ceaseless roll of wheels, on the tormented
pavement. I knew that the house and garden were thronged, and that all
was gay and glad below; here it began to grow dusk: the beetles were
fading from my sight; I trembled lest they should steal on me a march,
mount my throne unseen, and, unsuspected, invade my skirts. Impatient
and apprehensive, I recommenced the rehearsal of my part merely to kill
time. Just as I was concluding, the long-delayed rattle of the key in
the lock came to my ear--no unwelcome sound. M. Paul (I could just see
through the dusk that it _was_ M. Paul, for light enough still lingered
to show the velvet blackne