“Now,” said Bart, “let’s all go into the cellar, and Solomon will light the candles.”
They went into the cellar; but Solomon showed so much clumsiness in lighting them, that Bart had to do it. This was soon accomplished. The surrounding forest sheltered them from the wind, and the lights did not flicker very much, except at times when an occasional puff stronger than usual would be felt. Once a light was blown out; but Bart lighted it again, and then they all burned very well.
So there they stood, in the cellar, with the circle of lights around them, under a dark sky, at the midnight hour.
“I feel solemn,” said Captain Corbet, after a long silence; “I feel deeply solemn.”
“Solemn!” said Bart; “of course you do; so say we all of us. Why shouldn’t we?”
“I feel,” said Captain Corbet, “a kind of pinin feelin—a longin and a hankerin after the babby.”
“O, well, all right,” said Bart; “never mind the baby just now.”
“But I feel,” said Captain Corbet, in a voice of exceeding mournfnlness—“I feel as though I’d orter jine the infant.”
“O, never mind your feelings,” said Bart. “Have you got your mineral rod?”
“I hev.”