And to help them a little in their search he began to kick very gently
against one of the barrels.

Poor Bob! If you were to kick with all your force and even upset the
barrel they would not hear you. And what is more, they are not even
thinking of you, for the apples are now being distributed.

"I wonder," said the little fellow to himself, "if I could find that
red-apple barrel in the dark. But then I couldn't tell the red ones
from the streakedy ones. But either of 'em would do. I guess I won't
try, though, for I might put my hand on a rat. They run about when
it's dark. I hope they won't come in this corner. But there's nothin'
for 'em to eat in this corner but me, and they ain't lions. I wonder
if they'll come down after more cider when that's all drunk up. If
they do, I guess I'll come out and let Aunt Alice tell them all where
I am. I don't like playin' this game when it's too long."

[Illustration]

And so he sat and waited and listened, and his eye-lids began to grow
heavy and his head began to nod, and directly little Bob was fast
asleep in the dark corner behind the barrels.

By ten o'clock the children were all put to bed, and soon after the
old folks went up-stairs, leaving only Tom Green, Alice, and some of
the young men and women down in the big sitting-room.

Bob's mother went up into the room where several of the children were
sleeping, and after looking around, she said to the old colored nurse: