Gypsy was thinking how grand it was, and wished she could be out in a midnight storm every week.
It was after midnight, and every one at Mr.Fisher's was asleep; but Tom knocked them up, and Mr.Fisher was very much amused, and Mrs.Fisher was very kind and hospitable, and built up a fire, and said they should be perfectly dry and warm before they went to bed.
So the girls bade Tom good-night, and he went back to Mr.Hallam, and they, feeling very cold and sleepy and drenched, were glad enough to be taken care of, and put to bed like babies, after Mrs.Fisher's good, motherly fashion.
"Sarah," said Gypsy, sleepily, just as Sarah was beginning to dream.

"A feather-bed, and--and _pil_lows! (with a little jump to keep awake long enough to finish her sentence) are a little better--on the whole--than a mud--pud----" Just there she went to sleep.

The next day it poured from morning till night.

That was just what Mr.Hallam and Tom liked, so they fished all day, and the girls amused themselves as best they might in Mr.Fisher's barn.

The day after it rained in snatches, and the sun shone in little spasms between.