So, laying in a good supply of candles and crackers, all four of us sat up with the table, and at the same time sat round it. For a while my wife and I carried on an animated conversation. But my daughters were silent. Then my wife and I would have had a rubber of whist, but my daughters could not be prevailed upon to join. So we played whist with two dummies literally; my wife won the rubber and, fatigued with victory, put away the cards. Half past eleven o'clock. No sign of the bug. The candles began to burn dim. My wife was just in the act of snuffing them, when a sudden, violent, hollow, resounding, rumbling, thumping was heard. Julia and Anna sprang to their feet. "All well!" cried a voice from the street. It was the watchman, first ringing down his club on the pavement, and then following it up with this highly satisfactory verbal announcement. "All well! Do you hear that, my girls?" said I, gayly. Indeed it was astonishing how brave as Bruce I felt in company with three women, and two of them half frightened out of their wits. I rose for my pipe, and took a philosophic smoke. Democritus forever, thought I. In profound silence, I sat smoking, when lo!--pop! pop! pop!--right under the table, a terrible popping. This time we all four sprang up, and my pipe was broken. "Good heavens! what's that?" "Spirits! spirits!" cried Julia. "Oh, oh, oh!" cried Anna. "Shame!" said my wife, "it's that new bottled cider, in the cellar, going off. I told Biddy to wire the bottles to-day." I shall here transcribe from memoranda, kept during part of the night. "_One o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking continues. Wife getting sleepy._ "_Two o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking intermittent. Wife fast asleep._ "_Three o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking pretty steady. Julia and Anna getting sleepy._ "_Four o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking regular, but not spirited. Wife, Julia, and Anna, all fast asleep in their chairs._ "_Five o'clock. No sign of the bug. Ticking faint. Myself feeling drowsy. The rest still asleep._" So far the journal. --Rap! rap! rap! A terrific, portentous rapping against a door. Startled from our dreams, we started to our feet. Rap! rap! rap! Julia and Anna shrieked. I cowered in the corner. "You fools!" cried my wife, "it's the baker with the bread." Six o'clock. She went to throw back the shutters, but ere it was done, a cry came from Julia. There, half in and half out its crack, there wriggled the bug, flashing in the room's general dimness, like a fiery opal. Had this bug had a tiny sword by its side--a Damascus sword--and a tiny necklace round its neck--a diamond necklace--and a tiny gun in its claw--brass gun--and a tiny manuscript in its mouth--a Chaldee manuscript--Julia and Anna could not have stood more charmed. In truth, it was a beautiful bug--a Jew jeweler's bug--a bug like a sparkle of a glorious sunset.