“I think I’ll go and see where that lantern went to,” she thought, and slipping on one of her own shoes, and one of Kenneth’s, which were all that she could find in the dark, she crept softly out through the hall to the back door. To her surprise, it was unlocked, and she picked her way carefully over the lettuce beds, holding up her long night-dress in one hand.
“It’s quite warm out,” she observed, from the top of a large red cabbage, which could not have told itself from a green cabbage at this time of night.
Something black sprang past her as she opened the gate, and leaped to the top of a shed, with a great scratching of claws; then she saw two little moons of fire watching her through the darkness.
“I suppose Andrew Banks, Jr., is hoping I’ll take him for a wildcat,” she thought, “but I shan’t.”
Suddenly she tripped and fell headlong over a wagon-tongue, scraping one little knee quite badly. But Eunice had always made it a point not to cry over anything unless it bled, and as it was too dark to see whether this bled or not, of course she could not cry. She went on, and into the cattle-barn, guided by the faint light of the moon, which showed her the long rows of patient forms, lying in their stalls and chewing the cuds that probably served them as dreams. Some of them knelt, and then struggled to their feet as Eunice approached, tossing their heads in fright.
She went to the stall of Wild-Eyes, the bull, who shook his chains, and pointed his horns at her until she spoke to him, when he thrust out his head, with a long sigh of fragrant breath, to be petted. Grandmother was the only other person who dared to caress Wild-Eyes, for he had not a cordial disposition, and dreadful stories were told of his behavior in the past.
Eunice pushed open the door that led to the horses’ stalls, and there, in the great open space of the barn, sat Grandmother on a pile of straw, with the lantern beside her, and the head of a sick horse on her lap.
“Good gracious!” she said, with a jump, as Eunice appeared. “What are you doing out here?”
“I saw the light. Oh, Grandmother, is Chucklehead sick?”
“Colic,” said Grandmother, briefly.