"Well!" huffed Aunt Martha. "The impertinence! I certainly shall keep my door open. No mouse is going to keep me from getting good, fresh air."
Tommy was a very bright little boy. Now, with the door shut in Momma and Daddy's room, and Aunt Martha's door open, he wouldn't think about the Ugly Thing in the hole—waiting for dark, real dark—to come out—and eat.
"All right, Tommy. This once you can sleep with your mother and me. Get on to bed and mind you sleep quiet. And don't spread those stuff—your family all over the bed either."
"Yes, Daddy. And, Daddy—"
"What?"
"I won't think about it now, the Thing in the hole."
Tommy said his good nights. Tonight he even kissed Aunt Martha as if he meant it. And he took his family and he went to bed in Momma and Daddy's room.
He did not think about the Ugly Thing. He went right to sleep, lying at the edge of the big, big bed. Tommy, and Old Rabbit, and Kokey Koala, and even Mr. Bear went right to sleep.
Outside the wind blew hard and harder and the rain drove down and it was dark. The television reception was bad. Everyone went to bed early. Good night. Lights out.