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Uncle Eb took a step
backward as if it had startled him.
'Guess it's nuthin' to be 'fraid of;' he said, feeling in the pet of his
coat He had struck a match in a moment. By its flickering light I
could see only a bit of rubbish on the floor.
'Full o' white owls,' said he, stepping inside, where the rustling was
now continuous. 'They'll do us no harm.'
I could see them now flying about under the low ceiling. Uncle Eb
gathered an gathered an armful of grass and clover, in the near
field, and spread it in a corner well away from the ruined door and
windows. Covered with our blanket it made a fairly comfortable
bed. Soon as we had lain down, the rain began to rattle on the
shaky roof and flashes of lightning lit every corner of the old room.
I have had, ever, a curious love of storms, and, from the time when
memory began its record in my brain, it has delighted me to hear at
night the roar of thunder and see the swift play of the lightning. I
lay between Uncle Eb and the old dog, who both went asleep
shortly.


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