The Imp obediently wriggled into safety.
"The ladder's in the tool-house, Uncle Dick--Ben'll show you. Will you get it, please?" he pleaded in a wheedling tone.
"First of all, my Imp, why did your Auntie Lisbeth send you to bed--had you been a very naughty boy?"
"No-o," he answered, after a moment's pause, "I don't think I was so very naughty--I only painted Dorothy like an Indian chief--green, with red spots, an' she looked fine, you know."
"Green, with red spots!" I repeated.
"Yes; only Auntie didn't seem to like it."
"I fear your Auntie Lisbeth lacks an eye for colour."
"Yes, 'fraid so; she sent me to bed for it, you know."
"Still, Imp, under the circumstances, I think it would be best if you got undressed and to sleep."
"Oh, but I can't, Uncle Dick!"