n seat in the little
rocking-chair, which still stood in its place by the side of the
light-stand.

'Now, Beechnut,' said he, as soon as he was seated, 'now for the story.'

'What sort of story shall I tell you, Malleville?' asked Beechnut.
'Shall it be the plain truth, or shall it be embellished?'

'Embellished,' said Malleville. 'I wish you would embellish it as much
as ever you can.'

'Well,' said Beechnut, 'I will tell you about Agnes.'

'Agnes!' repeated Phonny. 'Who was she?'

'You must not speak, Phonny,' said Malleville. 'Beechnut is going to
tell this story to me.'

'Yes,' said Beechnut, 'it is altogether for Malleville, and you must
not say a word about it from beginning to end.'

'One night,' continued Beechnut, 'about three weeks ago, I sat up very
late in my room, writing. It was just after I had got well from my hurt,
and as I had been kept away from my desk for a long time, I was very
glad to get back to it again, and I used to sit up quite late in the
evenings, writing and reading. The night that I am now speaking of, I
sat up even later than usual. It had been a very warm day, and the
evening air, as it came into my open window, was cool and delightful.
Besides, there was a bright moon, and it shone very brilliantly upon the
garden, and upon the fields and mountains beyond, as I looked upon them
from my window.

'At last I finished my writing just as the clock struck twelve, and as I
still did not feel sleepy, notwithstanding that it was so late, and as
the night was so magnificent, I thought that I would go out and take a
little walk. So I put my books and papers away, took my cap, and put it
upon my head, and then stepped out of the window upon the roof of the
shed, which, you know, is just below it. I thought it better to go out
that way rather than to go down the stairs, as by going down the stairs
I might possibly have disturbed somebody in the house.

'I walked along the roof of the shed, without meeting anybody or seeing
anybody except Moma. She was lying down asleep behind one of the
chimneys.'

Moma was a large black cat belonging to Malleville.

'Poor Moma!' said Malleville. 'Has not she got any better place to sleep
in than that? I mean to make her a bed as soon as I get well.'

'When I reached the end of the shed,' continued Beechnut, 'I climbed
down by the great trellis to the fence, and from the fence to the
ground. I went along the yard to the steps of the south platform,