MORAL USE OF INVENTORIES

November 13th, Nine Oclock P.M.

I had well stopped up the chinks of my window; my little carpet wasnailed down in its place; my lamp, provided with its shade, cast asubdued light around, and my stove made a low, murmuring sound, as ifsome live creature was sharing my hearth with me.

All was silent around me. But, out of doors the snow and rain swept theroofs, and with a low, rushing sound ran along the gurgling gutters;sometimes a gust of wind forced itself beneath the tiles, which rattledtogether like castanets, and afterward it was lost in the empty corridor.

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