They're the outcasts o' the forest--the prey o' the other animals an' men like 'em only when they're dead.
An' they're the purtiest critter alive an' the spryest an' the mos' graceful.' 'Men are the mos' terrible of all critters, an' the meanest,' said Uncle Eb.

'They're the only critters that kill fer fun.' 'Bedtime,' said our host, rising presently.

'Got t' be up early 'n the morning.' We climbed a ladder to the top floor of the cabin with the hired men, of whom there were two.

The good lady of the house had made a bed for us on the floor and I remember Fred came up the ladder too, and lay down beside us.

Uncle Eb was up with the men in the morning and at breakfast time my hostess came and woke me with kisses and helped me to dress.
When we were about going she brought a little wagon out of the cellar that had been a playing of her dead boy, and said I could have it.