"Very well, then. You had better go on screaming if you like it so much," she said, sitting down on the side of the bed and wondering to herself what would become of the world, if all the children in it were as tiresome to manage as Hoodie. In at the window the daylight was creeping timidly; all kinds of pretty colours were to be seen in the sky, and the birds were beginning their cheerful chatter. Still it was very early, and poor cousin Magdalen was sleepy. Was there anything that could make Hoodie go to sleep for an hour or two?
"The little birds in the nests are kind to each other. They don't wake each other up in the night and scream so that there is no peace. I wonder why children can't be good too," she said.
"I'm not sc'eaming," said Hoodie indignantly. "I've stoppened."
"I'm glad to hear it. But if I get into bed and lie down and try to go to sleep, perhaps you'll begin again, as you don't care for what other people like."
Hoodie was silent for a minute.
"Does you want to go to sleep?"
"Yes," said Magdalen. "I'm very tired."
"Zen I won't sc'eam."
Her cousin felt inclined to clap her hands, but wisely forbore.
"Thank you," she said quietly, as she lay down.