As the old wharf, owing to the rotting of the thick planking under the cinders, was full of pitfalls, even by daylight, the children hurried back to their home, chattering about the swallows.
"Will they do it again tomorrow night?" asked Michael.
"Yes, Old Captain says they do it every night all summer long. That's their home. Early in the spring there's only a few; but as the summer goes on, there are more and more."
"Will oo take us to see the birdses some nother nights?" asked Annie.
"Yes, if you're good."
"Does 'em take they's feathers off?"
"Oh, Sammy! Of course they don't."
"Does 'em sing all night?"
"No, they sleep, and that's what you ought to be doing."