"So that's the way of it?" I said. 

 "Well! well! such an appeal shall not go unanswered, at least. Wait there, my trusty Benjamin, and I'll be with you anon."  Pausing only to refill my tobacco-pouch and get my cap, I sallied out into the fragrant night, and set off along the river, the faithful Benjamin trotting at my heels. 

 Very soon we were skirting blooming flower-beds, and crossing trim lawns, until at length we reached a certain wing of the house from a window of which a pillow-case was dangling by means of a string. 

 "That's for provisions!" volunteered Ben; "we pertended he was starving, so he lets it down an' I fill it with onions out of the vegetable garden."  At this moment the curly head of the Imp appeared at the window, followed by the major portion of his person. 

 "Oh, Uncle Dick!" he cried in a loud stage-whisper, "I think you had better be the Black Knight, 'cause you're so big, you know." 

 "Imp," I said, "get in at once, do you want to break your neck?" 

 The Imp obediently wriggled into safety. 

 "The ladder's in the tool-house, Uncle Dick—Ben'll show you. Will you get it, please?" he pleaded in a wheedling tone. 

 "First of all, my Imp, why did your Auntie Lisbeth send you to bed—had you been a very naughty boy?" 

 "No-o!" he answered, after a moment's pause, "I don't think I was so very naughty—I only painted Dorothy like an Indian chief—green, with red spots, an' she looked fine, you know." 

 "Green, with red spots!" I repeated. 

 "Yes; only auntie didn't seem to like it." 

 "I fear your Auntie Lisbeth lacks an eye for colour." 

 "Yes, 'fraid so; she sent me to bed for it, you know." 

 "Still, Imp, under the circumstances I think it would be best if you got undressed and went to sleep." 

 "Oh, but I can't, Uncle Dick!" 

 "Why not, my Imp?" 

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