Aunt Corinne huddled by the coals, and Bobaday sat down on the foot-chunk
he had placed for his awning throne.

"You better go to bed quick as ever you can," he said.

"I guess I ain't goin'," said aunt Corinne with indignant surprise,
"till you tell me somethin' about what was up in the bushes. I stayed
still and let you look, and now you won't tell me!"

"You heard the sound," remonstrated Robert.

"But I didn't see anything," argued aunt Corinne.

"You wouldn't want to," said Bobaday.

They were talking in cautious tones, but no longer whispering. It
had become too tiresome. Aunt Corinne would now have burst out with
an exclamation, but checked herself and tilted her nose, talking to
the coals which twinkled back to her between her slim fingers.

"Boys think they are so smart! They want to have all the good times
and see all the great shows, and go slidin' in winter time, when
girls have to stay in the house and knit, and then talk like they's
grown up, and we's little babies!"

Robert Day fixed his eyes on his aunt with superior compassion.

"Grandma Padgett wouldn't want me to scare you," he observed.

Corinne edged several inches closer to him. She felt that she must