e were three. Thus
it is said there were originally but three Furies--Melty, Nimmy, and
Hetty--Meditation, Memory, and Fiddling.

Leaning upon the arm of the gallant Pompey, and attended at a
respectable distance by Diana, I proceeded down one of the populous
and very pleasant streets of the now deserted Edina. On a sudden, there
presented itself to view a church--a Gothic cathedral--vast, venerable,
and with a tall steeple, which towered into the sky. What madness
now possessed me? Why did I rush upon my fate? I was seized with an
uncontrollable desire to ascend the giddy pinnacle, and then survey the
immense extent of the city. The door of the cathedral stood invitingly
open. My destiny prevailed. I entered the ominous archway. Where then
was my guardian angel?--if indeed such angels there be. If! Distressing
monosyllable! what world of mystery, and meaning, and doubt, and
uncertainty is there involved in thy two letters! I entered the ominous
archway! I entered; and, without injury to my orange-colored auriculas,
I passed beneath the portal, and emerged within the vestibule. Thus
it is said the immense river Alfred passed, unscathed, and unwetted,
beneath the sea.

I thought the staircase would never have an end. Round! Yes, they went
round and up, and round and up and round and up, until I could not help
surmising, with the sagacious Pompey, upon whose supporting arm I leaned
in all the confidence of early affection--I could not help surmising
that the upper end of the continuous spiral ladder had been
accidentally, or perhaps designedly, removed. I paused for breath; and,
in the meantime, an accident occurred of too momentous a nature in
a moral, and also in a metaphysical point of view, to be passed over
without notice. It appeared to me--indeed I was quite confident of the
fact--I could not be mistaken--no! I had, for some moments, carefully
and anxiously observed the motions of my Diana--I say that I could not
be mistaken--Diana smelt a rat! At once I called Pompey's attention to
the subject, and he--he agreed with me. There was then no longer any
reasonable room for doubt. The rat had been smelled--and by Diana.
Heavens! shall I ever forget the intense excitement of the moment? Alas!
what is the boasted intellect of man? The rat!--it was there--that is to
say, it was somewhere. Diana smelled the rat. I--I could not! Thus it is
said the Prussian Isis has, for some persons, a sweet and very powerful
perfume, wh