He began to feel very sleepy, and then suddenly he heard something laugh. It was not a pleasant laugh—it was low and harsh, and disagreeable.
Ready started up and found the queerest creature gazing down at him. It looked something like a bird, something like a bat, and not unlike a rooster. It had dreadful colors on it, reds and greens and queer purples which somehow reminded you of all the unpleasant things you had ever seen. When the creature laughed, it reminded you of all the unpleasant things you had ever heard.
“Nonsense,” snarled the creature
“The Sandpiper won’t come,” it said hoarsely. “The bats never sent him the message. I’m a relative, and I guess I know.”
“But he promised,” said Ready.
“Nonsense,” snarled the creature. “What’s a bat’s promise worth? The Sandpiper will never come, and as for you, you will go on and on and never get anywhere!”
“Oh, oh, oh!” said Ready, and then something went crack, whack, thack!
He jumped up and looked about. Not a thing was there. His bones ached, his tail felt bent and queer, and his eyes were heavy.
“Why, I do believe I have been asleep,” he said. “It’s all a dream, a kind of nightmare. Although the sun is shining so brightly, I suppose it should be called a daymare.”