But, as everyone knows, when young ladies get talking together of an evening, sleep “comes slowly up that way,” and the shortness of their candles alone warned them that it was time they sought the pillow.  But the short candles were unheeded, for Gertrude was relating reminiscences of a former visit, and the fun and frolic that prevailed at the farm during their stay.  At last, when one of the candles flared up, then subsided in smoke, the girls rose to leave the room, but Gertrude turned at the door, saying: 

“Take good care, girls, and sleep well over to the back of the bed, or you may repeat the performance that took place the first night that Beatrice and I slept in the house.”

“Oh, do tell them about it, Gertrude,” said Maggie, laughing.  “Our candles will hold out that long, I think.”

Gertrude seated herself on the foot of the bed, while the rest waited for the story.

“Well, we slept that night in the room that Lancy occupies, at the head of the stairs, and, do you know, I never enter it but I feel cold shivers running up my back as I think of that night.  You see, Mrs. McDonald’s feather-beds are wonderful for size; they are her pride and joy; but we were not used to them, so, during the night, we rolled over too near the front of the bed, when suddenly out we both went, and the feather-bed fell out on top of us!  I thought there had been an earthquake, and so laid quiet for the next shock.  By and by Beatrice crawled out from under the ruins and tried to lift the feather-bed back on the mattress, but instead of doing so she fell back on the floor with it in her arms.  Over went the table, and this upset the whole contents of the water-pitcher over my back.  Good gracious! how it scared me!  It was pitch dark and I could not tell what had happened, so I screamed—­screamed as if I was being murdered.  Imagine our feelings when the door opened, and in walked Mr. and Mrs. McDonald, carrying a candle and a poker.  Oh!  I thought I should die with shame.  They thought that robbers had broken into the house and were carrying us off, so they ran with the poker to our rescue.  It took them some time to comprehend the true state of affairs, then Mr. McDonald disappeared in a twinkling.  The girls here came running up to see what was the matter, and they soon tossed the bed and bed-clothes out of the way, and got some dry garments for poor shivering me.  Beatrice escaped with a lump on her head as big as an egg.  I had no outward bruises to speak of, but I felt bad enough without any; but the water-pitcher had the handle broken off, and the bed-clothes and feather-bed had to be dried out-of-doors for days after.  Oh, dear!  I did feel so ashamed; such a scrape I never got into before or since.  So take my story to heart, and do not lose your senses if you do fall out of bed,” and Gertrude laughed as she took up her candle and followed the rest from the room, leaving Dexie and Elsie to the mercy or comfort of their big feather-bed.