d: "All the
chickens right?"

"Yes, I counted them. They're so cunning and lovely."

"I hope they'll get their feather cloaks on before cold weather," said
her father.

"'Milyer, that child _must_ go to bed! I don't see why you want to keep
her up all hours of the night."

They hugged each other a little closer this time and did not laugh, but
just kissed softly. It was beginning to grow dusky. The peeps and
crickets and katydids were out in force. The katydids told you there
would be frost in six weeks.

When her mother added in a dignified tone, "Come, Hannah Ann," the
little girl took one last hug and came into the room. Margaret had
lighted the candles in their polished brass candlesticks. One stood on
the hall table, one on the stand in the middle of the room. Mrs.
Underhill had knit past the seam in her stocking and pulled out a few
stitches. Then she laid it down and unfastened the little girl's frock
and said, "Now run to bed this minute." Margaret was reading, but she
glanced up and smiled.

The candle made a vague yellowish light on the stairs. There were people
who burned lamp-oil, as the oil from whales was called. The little girl
held it in curious awe, associating it with the story of Jonah. Mrs.
Underhill despised the "ill-smelling stuff" and would not have it in the
house. She made beautiful candles. Oil-wells had hardly been thought of,
except that some one occasionally brought a bottle from Pennsylvania for
rheumatism.

The little girl had slept in her mother's room, which answered to the
back parlor, until this spring when she had gone up to Margaret's room.
There were four large chambers on the second floor and a spacious
clothes-room with a closet for bedding. Up above was an immense garret
with four gables. The three younger boys and the two hired men slept
there.

The little girl didn't mind going to bed alone, but her mother generally
found some good reason for going up-stairs. On cool nights she was afraid
the little girl wasn't well covered; and to-night she looked in and
said:

"I hope you're not bundled up in a blanket this hot night, Hannah Ann!
Children seem to have such little sense."

"Oh no, I have only the sheet over me." But the little girl raised up
and held out her arms, and her mother gave her a soft squeeze and patted
the pillow and said:

"Now you must go to sleep like a good little girl;" quite as if she was
in the habit of being bad and not going to sleep, but th