“Next to the winds our night experiences in early boyhood were much affected by rats. The old house seemed to have been a favorite of this curious vermin. There is something in the short, hot glitter of a rat’s eye that has never ceased to affect us unpleasantly. We could not help imagining them to be the mere receptacles of mischievous spirits, and their keen eyes had always a kind of mocking expression, as if they said, ‘You think we are rats, but if we get hold of you you will know that we are a good deal more than that.’ We never could estimate how many populated our old house. The walls seemed like city thoroughfares, and the ceiling like a Forum or Roman theatre. We used to lie in bed and marvel at what was going on. Sometimes there would be a great stillness, as if they had all gone to meeting. Then again they would troop about with such a swell of liberty and gladness that it was quite plain that the meeting was out. But nothing ever scared and amused us so much as their way of going up and down the partitions. At first up would come one, then another, and finally quite a bevy, squeaking and frolicking, as if they were school-boys going up-stairs, nipping each other and cutting up all manner of pranks. Then came a stillness. Next a premonitory rat would rush down, evidently full of news, and immediately down would pour after him a stream of rats, rushing like mad, and apparently tumbling heels over head. By and by some old sawyer would commence where he left off the night before, cutting the same partition. To this must be added nibblings, rat-nestled paper, an occasional race of rats across the bed, the manipulation of corn in the garret, the foray with cats and kittens, the rat engines—‘steel traps,’ ‘box-traps,’ ‘figure-four’s,’ and all manner of devices, in spite of which the rats held their own, and, if allowed suffrage, would have outvoted the whole family, dog and cats to boot, four to one.” He was early taught to work and endure what now might be called hardships. “It was my duty, after I got to be about eight years old, to go down-stairs and build a fire. Ours was a house in which, when the weather was cold, if water was left in any vessel it would freeze and split the vessel asunder; and of course crockery had no chance. Our well used to choke up with ice so that we had to cut it out in order to get the bucket down; and sometimes, when the cistern was frozen up so that we could not get water from it, I have gone, on washing-days, two miles, and dipped water from a brook into barrels, and brought it home. Therefore you see that, however dainty I may be nowadays, I started on a very different pattern.” But he came in after-years to be glad of this experience: