The next day was a hard one for the little seamstress, and she hardly thought of the affair of the night before until the same hour had come around again, and she sat once more by her window. Then she smiled at the remembrance. “Poor fellow,” she said in her charitable heart, “I’ve no doubt he’s _awfully_ ashamed of it now. Perhaps he was never tipsy before. Perhaps he didn’t know there was a lone woman in here to be frightened.” Just then she heard a gritting sound. She looked down. The pewter pot was in front of her, and the two–foot rule was slowly retiring. On the pot was a piece of paper, and on the paper was: _porter_ _good for the helth_ _it makes meet_ This time the little seamstress shut her window with a bang of indignation. The color rose to her pale cheeks. She thought that she would go down to see the janitor at once. Then she remembered the seven flights of stairs; and she resolved to see the janitor in the morning. Then she went to bed and saw the mug drawn back just as it had been drawn back the night before. The morning came, but, somehow, the seamstress did not care to complain to the janitor. She hated to make trouble—and the janitor might think—and—and—well, if the wretch did it again she would speak to him herself, and that would settle it. And so, on the next night, which was a Thursday, the little seamstress sat down by her window, resolved to settle the matter. And she had not sat there long, rocking in the creaking little rocking–chair which she had brought with her from her old home, when the pewter pot hove in sight, with a piece of paper on the top. This time the legend read: _Perhaps you are afrade i will_ _adress you_ _i am not that kind_ The seamstress did not quite know whether to laugh or to cry. But she felt that the time had come for speech. She leaned out of her window and addressed the twilight heaven. “Mr.—Mr.—sir—I—will you _please_ put your head out of the window so that I can speak to you?” The silence of the other room was undisturbed. The seamstress drew back, blushing. But before she could nerve herself for another attack, a piece of paper appeared on the end of the two–foot rule. _when i Say a thing i_ _mene it_ _i have Sed i would not_ _Adress you and i_ _Will not_