CHAPTER X.
A NEW ALARUM.
Willie was always thinking what uses he could put things to.

Only he was never tempted to set a fine thing to do dirty work, as dull-hearted money-grubbers do--mill-owners, for instance, when they make the channel of a lovely mountain-stream serve for a drain to carry off the filth from their works.

If Dante had known any such, I know where he would have put them, but I would rather not describe the place.

I have told you what Willie made the prisoned stream do for the garden; I will now tell you what he made the running stream do for himself, and you shall judge whether or not that was fit work for him to require of it.
Ever since he had ceased being night-nurse to little Agnes, he had wished that he had some one to wake him every night, about the middle of it, that he might get up and look out of the window.

For, after he had fed his baby-sister and given her back to his mother in a state of contentment, before getting into bed again he had always looked out of the window to see what the night was like--not that he was one bit anxious about the weather, except, indeed, he heard his papa getting up to go out, or knew that he had to go; for he could enjoy weather of any sort and all sorts, and never thought what the next day would be like--but just to see what Madame Night was thinking about--how she looked, and what she was doing.