Little Miles was dreaming on a green bank, on the top of which he and Humphrey were seated, making daisy-chains, when suddenly the midges began to fly in his face in a most disagreeable manner. Buzz, buzz, they came up against his cheeks like hard lumps, and he couldn't drive them away. He turned to Humphrey for assistance, and such a strong gust of wind blew upon one side of his head and face that he fell over on his side and began to slip down the hill. He clutched hold of his brother to save himself, and woke--to find neither bank nor daisies but that Humphrey was dragging him out of bed. "At last!" whispered Humphrey. "I thought you never _were_ going to wake. I've tried _everything_! I've thrown bits of biscuit in your face, I've blown into your ear, I've shaken you till I was tired; I couldn't speak, you know, for fear of waking Virginie. Be very quiet, for she's moved once or twice." "But what do you want, Humphie?" asked Miles, rubbing his eyes. "Why do you get out of bed in the middle of the night?" "Middle of the night!" echoed Humphrey, "why it's broad daylight! Look at the hole in the shutter, how sunny it is out of doors. I've been lying awake ever since the cock crew, watching the light get brighter and brighter, and----" But before he had concluded his sentence his weary little brother had settled himself again on his pillow. "Miles! Miles!" whispered Humphrey in despair, stooping over him. "Good night, Humphie," said Miles, sleepily. "Why, you're going to sleep again," said Humphrey in his ear. "No, I'm not," said the child, dreamily. "Yes, you are!" exclaimed Humphrey, forgetting, in his excitement, that he was speaking out loud. "No, I'm not," repeated Miles, trying to seem very wide-awake: but the fringed eyelids drooped over the heavy eyes, and he tried to keep them open in vain. An ominous stir from the big bed prevented Humphrey from answering, and he watched Virginie nervously, as she rolled over from one side to the other. Miles took advantage of the pause and fell asleep again directly. "Wake up! wake up!" said Humphrey, returning to the charge. Miles sat up in bed. "What _is_ the matter, Humphie?" "Nothing's the matter, but don't you remember our _delicious_ plan to get up early and pick mushrooms?" Miles remembered now, but the plan did not seem so delicious now, somehow, as it had done the day before. "Get up now, Humphie?" he said dejectedly. "Yes," answered his energetic brother, "you won't mind it when we're once out in the fields. I'm going to dress you before I dress myself, so be quick and jump up. You'll feel all right when you're out of bed." Little Miles looked half inclined to cry. "I'm so sleepy," he said wistfully. "You'll be better soon," said Humphrey, pulling off the bed-clothes.