"Oh! will you?" The angel turned into a boy at once.
"Yes; now run along."
"A loud whistle—a real loud one?"
"Yes, but not if you don't go right back to bed."
The sound of little footsteps receded as I turned over and closed my eyes. Speedily the bird-song seemed to grow fainter; my thoughts dropped to pieces; I seemed to be floating on fleecy clouds, in company with hundreds of cherubs with Budge's features and night-drawers—
"Uncle Harry!"
May the Lord forget the prayer I put up just then!
"I'll discipline you, my fine little boy," thought I. "Perhaps, if I let you shriek your abominable little throat hoarse, you'll learn better than to torment your uncle, that was just getting ready to love you dearly."
"Uncle Har—ray!"
"Howl away, you little imp," thought I. "You've got me wide awake, and your lungs may suffer for it." Suddenly I heard, although in sleepy tones, and with a lazy drawl, some words which appalled me. The murmurer was Toddie:—