"Good night, my dear child," she said. "I shall sleep as if I lay in my own four-poster."
And she slept peacefully; but peace did not reign either within the house or without. The storm rattled the windows, struck the wall with the long, dangling iron hooks, and rang the neighbor's bell in the backyard. The lodger up-stairs had come home. He was still taking his nightly promenade up and down the room; he then kicked off his boots, and went to bed and to rest; but he snores, so that any one with good ears can hear him through the ceiling.
I found no peace, no rest; nor did the weather take any rest; it was unusually lively. The wind howled and sang in its own way; my teeth also began to be lively and they hummed and sang in their way. A grand attack of toothache was coming on.
Draughty gusts came from the window. The moon shone through the window upon the floor; the light came and went as the clouds rolled by in the stormy weather. There was an unceasing change of light and shadow, until at last the shadow on the floor began to take shape. I stared at the apparition, and felt an icy cold gust against my face.
On the floor sat a thin, long figure, just like what a child would draw with a pencil on its slate; something like a human being—a single thin line formed the body, another line or two made the arms, and the legs were only indicated by a single line for each, and the head by angular lines.
The figure soon became more distinct; it was draped with a very thin and fine kind of stuff, clearly showing that the figure was that of a woman.
I heard a buzzing sound. Was it she or the wind, which was buzzing like a hornet through the crack in the pane?
No, it was she, Mistress Toothache! Her terrible highness, Satania Infernalis! Heaven deliver and preserve us from her visits!
"How cozy it is here!" she buzzed; "these are nice quarters—marshy ground, boggy ground! Here the gnats have been buzzing with poison in their stings; I have a sting, and it must be sharpened on human teeth. Those over in the bed shine so brightly. They have defied sweet and sour things, heat and cold, nutshells and plum-stones; but I shall shake them to their roots, I shall stretch them on the rack, and feed their roots with draughty winds and chilly blasts!"
They were terrible words!—She is a terrible visitor!
"So you are a poet!" she said. "Well, I 'll coach you in all the meters of toothache! I 'll thrust iron and steel into your body! I 'll seize all the fibers of your nerves!"
I felt as if a red-hot awl passed through my cheek-bone; I writhed and twisted in my bed.
"A splendid row of teeth to play upon! just like an organ!" she said. "We shall have a grand concert on Jews'-harps, with kettle-drums and
