“It is awful up-stairs in little Dan'l's room,” said Sarah. “I have got all the windows open except the one that's right on the bed, and I told her she needn't keep more than the sheet and one comfortable over her.” Daniel looked anxious. “Children ain't ever overcome when they are in bed, in the house, are they?” “Land, no! I never heard of such a thing. And, anyway, little Dan'l's so thin it ain't likely she feels the heat as much as some.” “I hope she don't.” Daniel continued to sit hunched up on himself, gazing with a sort of mournful irritation out of the window upon the landscape over which the misty shadows vaguely wavered. Sarah knitted. She could knit in the dark. After a while she rose and said she guessed she would go to bed, as to-morrow was her sweeping-day. Sarah went, and Daniel sat alone. Presently a little pale figure stole to him through the dusk--the child, in her straight white nightgown, padding softly on tiny naked feet. “Is that you, Dan'l?” “Yes, Uncle Dan'l.” “Is it too hot to sleep up in your room?” “I didn't feel so very hot, Uncle Dan'l, but skeeters were biting me, and a great big black thing just flew in my window!” “A bat, most likely.” “A bat!” Little Dan'l shuddered. She began a little stifled wail. “I'm afeard of bats,” she lamented. Daniel gathered the tiny creature up. “You can jest set here with Uncle Dan'l,” said he. “It is jest a little cooler here, I guess. Once in a while there comes a little whiff of wind.” “Won't any bats come?” “Lord, no! Your Uncle Dan'l won't let any bats come within a gun-shot.” The little creature settled down contentedly in the old man's lap. Her fair, thin locks fell over his shirt-sleeved arm, her upturned profile was sweetly pure and clear even in the dusk. She was so delicately small that he might have been holding a fairy, from the slight roundness of the childish limbs and figure. Poor little girl!--Dan'l was much too small and thin. Old man Daniel gazed down at her anxiously. “Jest as soon as the nice fall weather comes,” said he, “uncle is going to take you down to the village real often, and you can get acquainted with some other nice little girls and play with them, and that will do uncle's little Dan'l good.” “I saw little Lucy Rose,” piped the child, “and she looked at me real pleasant, and Lily Jennings wore a pretty dress. Would they play with me, uncle?” “Of course they would. You don't feel quite so hot, here, do you?” “I wasn't so hot, anyway; I was afeard of bats.” “There ain't any bats here.” “And skeeters.” “Uncle don't believe there's any skeeters, neither.”