He knew, as he once more read her words, that he ought to tell his uncle, who could best decide what to do about Josiah and his terror of being reclaimed by his old owner.
During the early hours of a summer night Mark Rivers sat on the porch in a rocking-chair, which he declared gave him all the exercise he required.
It was the only rocking-chair at Grey Pine, and nothing so disturbed the Squire as Mark Rivers rocking on that unpleasant piece of furniture and smoking as if it were a locomotive.

It was an indulgence of Ann Penhallow, who knew that there had been a half-dozen rockers in the burned rectory.
John sat on the steps and listened to the shrill katydids or watched the devious lanterns of the fireflies.

A bat darted over the head of Rivers, who ducked as it went by, watching its uncertain flight.
"I am terribly afraid of bats," said the rector.

"Are you ?" "I--no.

They're harmless." "Yes, I know that, but I am without reason afraid of them.