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"Pretty nearly," said Grandfather. "It might be true."
"If you think things are true, then they are true, aren't they?"
Hortense demanded.
"Perhaps," said Grandfather, wrinkling his forehead. "Philosophers disagree on that point. Now run off to bed."
Hortense kissed her Grandfather and Grandmother good night and went to her room.
"I hope you got a good nap to-day," she said to Highboy when she had closed the door, "because we are going to play hide and seek to-night, and Andy, who lives next door, is coming over."
"I slept all day," said Highboy, "and I'm fit as a fiddle."
"Why do you say fit as a fiddle?" asked Hortense. "Do fiddles have fits? Cats have, of course!"
"And dresses," added Highboy, "and things fit into boxes. Your grandmother says when she puts things into me, 'This will fit nicely,'
so I suppose a fiddle fits or has fits the same way."
"It doesn't seem clear to me," said Hortense.
"How many things are clear?" Highboy demanded.
"Lots of things aren't," Hortense admitted. "Of course, a clear day is easy."
"And you clear the table," said Highboy.
"And clear the decks for action," said Hortense, "but that's pirates. I must ask Malay Kris about that. He's seen it happen lots of times.
We'll get him to play to-night."
"Who is Malay Kris?" asked Highboy.
"He's the long, snaky knife that hangs in the parlor," said Hortense.
"Then there's Alligator Sofa, too. We'll get him to play, if he'll wake up. He's so slow I suspect he'll always be _It_."
Highboy shivered until he creaked.
"They sound fierce and dangerous to me," he said, "worse than Coal and Ember."
"Perhaps we can set him on Jeremiah and the other one," said Hortense.
"I'm longing to see the bright, round one with p.r.i.c.kly sides. I've a guess as to who it is."
Highboy shivered again.
"Don't mention them in my hearing--please!" he begged. "You never can tell when Jeremiah is snooping about, and he's a telltale."
"Well, we needn't be afraid of Jeremiah," Hortense said. "Malay Kris will make the other one run, too, I expect."
She looked out of the window.
"There's no light on the lawn from the library," said she. "Everybody must be in bed. Let's go down."
"You hold my hand tight," said Highboy.
Hortense did so, and they stole down the stairs together.
Coal and Ember growled a bit when they entered Grandmother's room but stopped when they saw who it was.
"What do we do to-night?" Owl asked. "I feel wakeful."
"Andy's coming over," said Hortense, "and then we're going to ask Malay Kris and Alligator Sofa to play with us."
"Andy sounds like a boy," said Owl. "I hate boys. One robbed my nest of eggs once, and I swore I'd pull his hair if I ever met him again."
"That was another boy, I'm sure," Hortense replied.
"All boys are bad," Owl grumbled. "Who are Malay Kris and Alligator Sofa?"
"I'll show you," said Hortense, "but first I must let Andy in. The cellar door's sure to be locked. You all wait here until we come."
She found her way into the dark kitchen and, unlocking the door, stood at the head of the stairs. Soon she heard b.u.mps in the wooden box.
"Is that you, Andy?" she called softly.
"Yes," said a m.u.f.fled voice, and she heard him stumbling in the dark.
Andy found his way to the stairs at last and soon stood beside her.
Hortense took him by the hand and led him to Grandmother's room.
"This is Andy," she said to the others.
"Let us smell him," said Coal and Ember, "so we'll know him in the dark."
They sniffed at his heels, and Owl glared fiercely at him.
"It's not the boy who robbed my nest," said Owl. "It's lucky for his hair."
"Now we'll go into the parlor for the others," said Hortense, leading the way.
It was so dark in the parlor that Hortense could see nothing; so she threw open the shutters, admitting a faint light which shone on Malay Kris and made him glitter.
"We want you to come down to play hide and seek," said Hortense.
"I'd rather have a fight," said Malay Kris. "It's a long time since I've tasted blood. Many's the man I've slithered through like a gimlet in a plank."
"These boastful talkers seldom amount to much," said Owl.
Malay Kris glared at Owl, whose fierce eyes never wavered.
"You have wings," said Malay Kris, "but anything that walks or swims is my meat. Show him to me."