Sarah knitted. She could knit in the dark. After a while she rose and said she guessed she would go to bed, as to-morrow was her sweeping-day.
Sarah went, and Daniel sat alone.
Presently a little pale figure stole to him through the dusk—the child, in her straight white nightgown, padding softly on tiny naked feet.
“Is that you, Dan'l?”
“Yes, Uncle Dan'l.”
“Is it too hot to sleep up in your room?”
“I didn't feel so very hot, Uncle Dan'l, but skeeters were biting me, and a great big black thing just flew in my window!”
“A bat, most likely.”
“A bat!” Little Dan'l shuddered. She began a little stifled wail. “I'm afeard of bats,” she lamented.
Daniel gathered the tiny creature up. “You can jest set here with Uncle Dan'l,” said he. “It is jest a little cooler here, I guess. Once in a while there comes a little whiff of wind.”