Lights were extinguished and for a few moments the lighted jack-o’-lanterns glared and glowered in supreme control. At this Rough House set up such an unearthly wailing, which nurse declared made her flesh creep, that darkness was made light and the merry crowd proceeded to enjoy the rousing games for which Hallowe’en is always famous. Diving for apples in a tub of water and for a key in a pan full of flour; trying to seize in one’s teeth a lump of sugar twirling on a string hung from the chandelier; popping chestnuts and finally, with lights lowered to a mysterious solemnity, watching the gyrations of two uncanny little white figures that danced a weird kind of can-can in the most lifelike manner imaginable, and later proved to be little dolls deftly fashioned by knotting two of Papa Doctor’s big hand-kerchiefs into shape, and manipulated by means of strings tied around their necks and then thrown over an arm of the chandelier. The entertainment wound up with such good things to eat as are popularly supposed to belong to Hallowe’en, and the Virginia reel, for which purpose the gay party adjourned to the parlor where Miss Palmer good-naturedly offered to play for the dancing, and finally to the dining-room, where the tempting feast was set forth.
It was quite ten o’clock when Sally jumped into bed, a very tired little girl. There had been one drawback to the pleasure of the evening. Tim had not come home and the child could not help feeling anxious, as he had never before remained away after dark. Sally reproached herself for not having gone out to look for him before dinner. However, she resolved to sleep with one eye open, in order to hear if Tim should make any attempt to get in at the window, and in a few moments was safely in dreamland.
CHAPTER XX.
The Dream Child.
HOW long Sally slept she did not know when she was aroused by the sharp tapping of a beak against the window pane. She sprang up, half asleep, but only too glad to hear the sound for which she had been listening even in her dreams.
Hastily she threw open the window and in fluttered Tim, so full of excitement that his very tail-feathers seemed to bristle with it. In his queer little hoarse croak he implored Sally to lose no time in dressing, as Chip, the squirrel, had sent a message to the effect that he wished her and Bob to join him in the park at once. Now, considering that it was getting well on toward midnight, the average child would have been rather astonished to receive such an invitation. But Bob and Sally, accustomed as they were to the call of the wild in a modified scale, hastily dressed, being, I am afraid, none too particular concerning the arrangement of hooks and buttons.