L. L. Weedon.
The Sandman.
“WILL you get out of my way, lumbering elf? This is the third night I have tumbled over you.”
“Softly, good Father Sandman, softly! If you were not so blind you would have seen me. Have you put all your children to bed, old Father Sandman?”
“Go along for a teasing, impertinent imp!”
Pipistrello laughed shrilly as he swung himself to and fro on the branch of a low shrub, chanting—