Uncle Ben now found that his hostess was logical and a student of Nature’s ways and motives. He felt that his visit was teaching him more about Maggie than he ever thought to know.
The six little ones were in bed by this time, and Maggie kept glancing at the electric light which hung from the center of the sloping roof of the Nest.
“What’s wrong with it, Maggie?” asked Uncle Ben.
“It’ll go out at nine sharp an’ leave you in the dark,” said she.
“Oh—then you want to go to bed?”
“No, I don’ go to bed when dere’s a full moon like dis one. I coulden’ sleep away such a lovely time! I likes to sit on de steps and think!”
“And think? Don’t you sing to the moon, Maggie?”
“Who tol’ you?” quickly countered the little girl.
“No one told me, but the moon ought to make you feel like singing, I think,” returned Uncle Ben, soothingly.
“I sings soft-like so no one kin hear. It might wake up de children an’ make ’em cry, so I jus’ sing inside, you know!”