Englishwoman's Love Letters - Page 6/59

To startle him back into hiding would have only deferred my getting

truly rid of him, so I was most tiptoe and diplomatic in my doings.

Finally, a paper bag, put into a likely nook with some sentimentally

preserved wedding-cake crumbled into it, crackled to me of his arrival.

In a brave moment I noosed the little beast, bag and all, and lowered

him from the window by string, till the shrubs took from me the burden

of responsibility.

I visited the bag this morning: he had eaten his way out, crumbs and

all: and has, I suppose, become a fieldmouse, for the hay smells

invitingly, and it is only a short run over the lawn and a jump over the

ha-ha to be in it. Poor morsels, I prefer them so much undomesticated!

Now this mouse is no allegory, and the paper bag is not a diamond

necklace, in spite of the wedding-cake sprinkled over it! So don't say

that this letter is too hard for your understanding, or you will

frighten me from telling you anything foolish again. Brains are like

jewels in this, difference of surface has nothing to do with the size

and value of them. Yours is a beautiful smooth round, like a pearl, and

mine all facets and flashes like cut glass. And yours so much the

bigger, and I love it so much the best! The trap which caught me was

baited with one great pearl. So the mouse comes in with a meaning tied

to its tail after all!