"The Naturalist Tavern" Was Not A Meaningless Name; For All
The Halls And All The Rooms Were Lined With Large Glass
Cases Which Were Filled With All Sorts Of Birds And Animals,
Glass-Eyed, Ably Stuffed, And Set Up In The Most Natural
Eloquent And Dramatic Attitudes.
The moment we were abed,
the rain cleared away and the moon came out.
I dozed off
to sleep while contemplating a great white stuffed owl
which was looking intently down on me from a high perch
with the air of a person who thought he had met me before,
but could not make out for certain.
But young Z did not get off so easily. He said that as he was
sinking deliciously to sleep, the moon lifted away the shadows
and developed a huge cat, on a bracket, dead and stuffed,
but crouching, with every muscle tense, for a spring,
and with its glittering glass eyes aimed straight at him.
It made Z uncomfortable. He tried closing his own eyes,
but that did not answer, for a natural instinct kept
making him open them again to see if the cat was still
getting ready to launch at him - which she always was.
He tried turning his back, but that was a failure;
he knew the sinister eyes were on him still. So at
last he had to get up, after an hour or two of worry
and experiment, and set the cat out in the hall. So he won,
that time.
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