"Be sure you lock the boat when you come up," called Tom, in starting.

"Oh yes," said Gypsy, "I always do."

"Did you bring up the oars?" asked Tom, at supper.

"Yes, they're in the barn. I do sometimes remember things, Mr. Tom."

"Did you----," began Tom, again.

But Winnie just then upset the entire contents of his silver mug of milk
exactly into Tom's lap, and as this was the fourth time the young
gentleman had done that very thing, within three days, Tom's sentence was
broken off for another of a more agitated nature.

That night Tom had a dream.

He thought the house was a haunted castle--(he had, I am sorry to say,
been reading novels in study hours), and that the ghost of old Baron
Somebody who had defrauded the beautiful Lady Somebody-else, of Kleiner
Berg Basin and the Dipper, in which it was supposed Mrs. Surly had
secreted a blind kitten, which it was somehow or other imperatively
necessary should be drowned, for the well-being of the beautiful and
unfortunate heiress,--that the ghost of this atrocious Baron was going
down stairs, with white silk stockings on his feet and a tin pan on his
head.

At this crisis Tom awoke, with a jump, and heard, or thought he heard, a
slight creaking noise in the entry. Winnie's cat, of course; or the wind