"Sh--, be still!" cried Joel, with a wrathful pinch. "Ben'll
hear you,--there now, just see!"

"What's the matter, boys?" asked Ben, sleepily.

Down flew Joel in a heap under his end of the blanket, where he
bestowed a kick from one set of toes on David in a little heap
against the wall.

The loft was as still as a mouse, so Ben turned over again. "I
guess Joel wanted a drink of water, and he's gone to sleep and
forgot all about it. Now, that's good," and off he went again.

Joel's black stubby head popped up, and he peered into the
darkness. "Now, I've got to wait ever'n ever so long," he
grumbled softly to himself. "No, there he goes!" he added
joyfully, as Ben breathed hard. "Now, Dave," he rolled over and
ducked under the blanket-end, "if you scream again, I'll snip,
and snip, and snip you, most dreadful."

"I won't," declared little David, fearfully. "Oh, I won't, Joe,"
huddling off from the little brown fingers.

"Promise, now, you'll never tell,--black and blue,--hope to die
if I do."

"We must tell Mamsie," said David.

Joel gave an impatient wriggle. "Mamsie won't care, and she's
too busy. Now say it, 'black and--"'