The Prophet began to wonder, but before he had gone on wondering for more than about half a minute, the blot continued,—
“She’s gone to bed.”
“I know she has,” said the Prophet, presuming that the blot, which seemed instinct with all knowledge, was referring to his grandmother.
“But she knows you’re at it again,” continued the blot.
The Prophet started violently and leaned upon the window-sill.
“No! How can that be?” he ejaculated.
“Ho! Them girls knows everything, especially the old uns,” said the blot, with an audible chuckle.
“Good gracious!” gasped the Prophet, overwhelmed at this mysterious visitant’s familiar description of his revered grandmother.
“Have you seen her to-night?” inquired the blot, controlling its merriment.
“Yes,” said the Prophet. “With the Crab.”