"And creepy sensations, too," said Don.
"Very true! To my mind, it is only the very stolid or the unemotional who fail to be impressed by such manifestations of nature."
For a long time the ambulanciers remained at the window and watched the lightning growing steadily brighter. The thunder rolled and reverberated, sounding more and more ominous and menacing.
At length the noise made by several of the boys tramping up to their rooms made them realize that the hour was growing rather late. Making their way to the stairway, they descended to the first floor, and were glad to get back to a region of light and good cheer.
"Ah, how beautiful nature must have looked!" piped "Peewee." "I suppose, mon cher Dunstan, you could see a whole lot of wonderful colors and tones denied to us poor, ordinary mortals?"
"I hope so," laughed Dunstan.
"And I can hear a wonderful lot of beauty in my banjo playing, even if no one else does," giggled Bodkins, who still had the instrument in his possession. "Just let me illustrate what I mean."
"If you do any illustrating by means of sound I will give a very good illustration of the fact that there are limits to even the most amiable of dispositions," said "Peewee." "I hope if the Germans ever capture this town they'll capture that banjo with it."
"Tut, tut, my boy!—another feeble attempt!" chirped the musician. "Let me tell you, gently but firmly, that clever remarks and bright, scintillating touches of wit and humor which lift conversation from the dull and commonplace are not in your line."
"I'll bet you wrote that out and committed it to memory," jeered "Peewee," "and——"