The golden lantern of the moon hung near the zenith and when we came out in the open we could see into the far fields.

I climbed into my basket at the wall and as Uncle Eb carried me over the brook, stopping on a flat rock midway to take a drink, I could see the sky in the water, and it seemed as if a misstep would have tumbled me into the moon.
'Hear the crickets holler,' said Uncle Eb, as he followed the bank up into the open pasture.
'What makes 'em holler ?' I asked.
'O, they're jes' filin' their saws an' thinkin'.

Mebbe tellin' o' what's happened 'em.

Been a hard day fer them little folks.

Terrible flood in their country.