However short and simple of form his sincere appeal may have been, it served him as might any formula of cabalistic worth. Bringing to his childish mind not only quiet forgetfulness; but quick, conquering somnolence, with a myriad train of fantastic visions; tantalizing his superstitious soul, and holding him in helpless captivity until the mystic hour of midnight came to break the spell. A rooster, high up on a branch of the persimmon tree in the side yard, looking out across the pasture, and seeing the moon slipping down the heavens, flapped his wings lustily and gave a ringing salute that floated off on the wind to tell his fellow-fowls that morning was on the way to greet the sleeping world. Chester heard the clarion sound in the tangle of his dream, and awaking with a start, he jumped out of bed and ran to Lizzie’s room, calling to her excitedly: “Lizzie! You ’wake?” He shouted, going to the bed-side, and shaking her roughly. “Wake up, for Gawd sake; an’ lemme talk to you!... Did you hyeah dat noise jes’ now befo’ I come in de room?” Lizzie sat up quickly and answered in an angry tone: “Boy, you mus’ be losin’ yo’ min’, ain’t you? W’at you mean, comin’ hyuh an’ wakin’ me out my slumbers, axin’ me ’bout any noise, like somebody done gone crazy?... Go back to bed, yonder in yo’ room. An’ damn you an’ dis kind o’ humbug; way in de middle o’ de night like dis!... You ain’ walkin’ in yo’ sleep, is you?” “Lizzie, for Gawd sake lissen at w’at I’m try’n to tell you,” he pleaded. “Ain’t you hyeah’d de noise,—like somebody callin’ for help?... Callin’ an’ moanin’ so pitiful, it woke me out a heavy sleep.... Gawd knows. I could hyeah it plain as day.... An’ ’long wid de moanin’ I could heayh de soun’ like water splashin’.... Gawd knows, Lizzie.... An’ I dunno w’at make you ain’ bin able to hyeah it, loud an’ natchal as dat thing was soundin’.” Becoming suddenly aware of the humor of the situation, Lizzie began laughing with keen enjoyment. “Nigger, you mus’ bin had de night-mare,” she told him. “You better go look an’ see if you ain’ knocked over dat bucket o’ water on de table yonder.... Talkin’ ’bout hyeahin’ water splashin’.... Go back to bed, boy, an’ lay down. An’ quit dis foolishness, an’ lemme git some mo’ sleep.” Determined to convince her that what he heard was no imaginary sound, he persisted: “Lizzie, w’at make you think I wan’ joke on somh’n seerus like dis thing is?... I tell you de noise I hyeah’d was a reel, _natchal_ noise. An’ it kep’ up de whole time I was gittin’ out o’ bed till I got hyuh an’ shuck you ’wake. An’ w’en I commence walkin’ ’cross de room, it look like all my laigs was stingin’ me, same as if somebody bin switchin’ ’um wid stingin’-nettles.”