"You see it's the last night in the old shanty, and I reckon I'll see the rest of it out." "That's so," said the impulsive Barker, struggling violently with his blankets.

"I tell you what, boys: we just ought to make a watch-night of it--a regular vigil, you know--until twelve at least.

Hold on! I'll get up, too!" But here Demorest arose, caught his youthful partner's bare foot which went searching painfully for the ground in one hand, tucked it back under the blankets, and heaping them on the top of him, patted the bulk with an authoritative, paternal air.
"You'll just say your prayers and go to sleep, sonny.

You'll want to be fresh as a daisy to appear before Miss Kitty to-morrow early, and you can keep your vigils for to-morrow night, after dinner, in the back drawing-room.

I said 'Good-night,' and I mean it!" Protesting feebly, Barker finally yielded in a nestling shiver and a sudden silence.