"Ho yes, Massa Nadgel. I's bin wakin' a good while, larfin fit to bu'st my sides. De purfesser's been agoin' on like a mad renoceros for more 'n an hour. He's arter suthin, which he can't ketch. Listen! You hear 'im goin' round an' round on his tip-toes. Dere goes anoder chair. I only hope he won't smash de lamp an' set de house a-fire."
"Veil, veil; I've missed him zee tence time. Nevair mind. Have at you vonce more, you aggravating leetle zing!"
Thus the unsuccessful man relieved his feelings, in a growling tone, as he continued to move about on tip-toe, rattling the bamboo flooring in spite of his careful efforts to move quietly.
"Why, Verkimier, what are you after?" cried Nigel at last, loud enough to be heard through the partition.
"Ah! I am sorry to vake you," he replied, without, however, suspending his hunt. "I have tried my best to make no noice, but zee bamboo floor is—hah! I have 'im at last!"
"What is it?" asked Nigel, becoming interested.
"Von leetle bat. He come in vis a moss——"
"A what?"
"A moss—a big, beautiful moss."
"Oh! a moth—well?"