Two Eyes blinking at him, he forgot
for the instant that he had ever seen them before, and fancied Santa
Klaus must have made his appearance already. He was just ready to
scream, when he recollected what the Eyes were, and boldly saying:--

"Two Eyes! come here and swallow me up!" he rolled himself up in the bed
clothes and was soon fast asleep.

II.

Midnight.

[Illustration]

The clock of Trinity struck twelve. One would have thought from the long
pause after each stroke, that it had great difficulty in making out the
complete number. Really it was so long about it because it wished to
give plenty of time for starting to the various persons and things in
the neighborhood, who are wont to be agog at that hour only. The Man on
St. Paul's, however, was so long getting ready that the twelfth stroke
came before he was fairly off,--so he lost his chance for this time. It
is so with him every night. When the first stroke comes it startles him
and he rubs his eyes and wonders where he is; he continues to rub his
eyes and wonder till the sixth stroke has sounded. Then he collects his
thoughts a little, and by the ninth stroke remembers that if he is quick
enough, he can shut up his book, get down from his high and
uncomfortable perch, and stretch his legs a little in a ramble through
the church-yard or round the Park. Having to be in a hurry, for it must
be done during the three following strokes, he gets confused, and before
he can muster sufficient presence of mind, the clock has struck twelve,
and he must wait another day.

The Grocer on the City Hall was in a difficult predicament. It has long
been his intention to get down with his scales and weigh the City
Corporation. He tries to do it when the clock strikes twelve, as that is
his only chance. He heard the first stroke, and was on the alert. He
indeed succeeded in reaching the ground, but he could not find the
Corporation, though he searched the Hall and the Park. All that he could
discover was a sleepy alderman. He returned to his place in disgust. He
could not see, for his part, why the Corporation did not sit in the
night-time; it would seem to be the proper hour. This he said to the
Eagle perched on a pole near by, and who had just returned from a visit
to his grand-uncle who has been all his life on the point of dropping an
umbrella, point downward, on the greatest rogue in the city. The Eagle
found his grand-uncle had not yet dropped the umbrella,