Nice boy . The old house was in darkness and I thought it would be a shame to rouse you all out of bed after a hard day 's work . So I decided that I would spend the night in the orchard . It was moonlight , you know , and moonlight in an old orchard is one of the few things left over from the Golden Age . '' `` It was very foolish of you , '' said practical Aunt Janet . `` These September nights are real chilly . You might have caught your death of cold -- or a bad dose of rheumatism . '' `` So I might . No doubt it was foolish of me , '' agreed Uncle Blair gaily . `` It must have been the fault , of the moonlight . Moonlight , you know , Sister Janet , has an intoxicating quality . It is a fine , airy , silver wine , such as fairies may drink at their revels , unharmed of it ; but when a mere mortal sips of it , it mounts straightway to his brain , to the undoing of his daylight common sense . However , I have got neither cold nor rheumatism , as a sensible person would have done had he ever been lured into doing such a non-sensible thing ; there is a special Providence for us foolish folk . I enjoyed my night in the orchard ; for a time I was companioned by sweet old memories ; and then I fell asleep listening to the murmurs of the wind in those old trees yonder . And I had a beautiful dream , Janet . I dreamed that the old orchard blossomed again , as it did that spring eighteen years ago . I dreamed that its sunshine was the sunshine of spring , not autumn . There was newness of life in my dream , Janet , and the sweetness of forgotten words . '' `` Was n't it strange about MY dream ? '' whispered the Story Girl to me .
`` Well , you 'd better come in and have some breakfast , '' said Aunt XXXXX .
Blair Janet Providence day daylight left murmurs newness night sips