condenser, but thereby simply magnified the irregularities. "I shall have to cut it in two," I said to myself. It was very hard, and I succeeded only after some effort. I cut it through a little away from the center, and so divided it almost into halves. Examining the flat surfaces, I found a small dark spot in the center of one of them.
"I thought so!" I exclaimed triumphantly; "I will now cut off a section and shall undoubtedly find a petrified insect—perhaps of an extinct species!
I sawed away the rounded side, and when I could see that the dark spot was nearer the surface, polished the section down with oil and emery-paper until I had obtained a thin disk with a dark spot in the middle.
It was now ready for the microscope. The focus was carefully found by slowly turning the fine-adjustment screw. The spot gradually defined itself and seemed about to assume the appearance of an insect—when, just at the point where I had expected it to be plainly visible, it suddenly disappeared, leaving a hole in the disk through which the light streamed! I was perplexed, and gazed stupidly. The light seemed suddenly to flicker, and then was shut off altogether.
I inspected the instrument carefully, but all seemed to be in perfect order.
I picked up the disk. There certainly was a hole through it.
"Perhaps there is something in the tube," I said, and unscrewed the eye-piece. Just as the eye-piece came loose something jumped from the tube, knocking the glass from my fingers.
I thought it was a moth or bug—but how did it come there?
"Well, that's very strange," said I, aloud.
"Most extraordinary," a voice replied; a very small voice, but the words were clearly audible. I looked around the room.
"Don't trouble yourself to search. I am not afraid. I'm right here on the table!"
