Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/169

 Then, sudden, a soft little wind puffed by, 'Twixt the thick-thatched roof and the star-sown sky; And died. And then That deep, dead, wonderful silence again.

Then — soft as a rattle a-counting her seeds In the midst of a tangle of withered-up weeds — Came a faint, faint knocking, a rustle like silk, And a breath at the keyhole as soft as milk — Still as the flit of a moth. And then. . . That infinitesimal knocking again.

Sam lifted his chin from his fists. He listened. His wandering eyes in the candle glistened. Then slowly, slowly, rolled round by degrees — And there sat a mouse on the top of his cheese. He stared at this Midget, and it at him, Over the edge of his mug's round rim. And — as if it were Christian — he says, "Did 'ee hear A faint little tap-tap-tap-tapping, my dear? Vou was at supper and me in a maze, 'Tis dark for a caller in these lone days, There's nowt in the larder. We're both of us old. And all of my loved ones sleep under the mould. And yet — and yet — as I've told 'ee before. . ."

But if Sam's story youd read to the end, Turn back to page 1, and press onward, dear friend;