Suddenly he jumped, clapped both grimy little hands
to his face, and piped a shrill "Oh!" A bat's wing had flittered past
his nose so close that he might have caught it in his teeth if he had
wanted to--_and_ been quick enough.
Uncle Andy turned, took his pipe from his mouth with marked
deliberation, and eyed the Child severely.
"What on earth's the matter?" he inquired, after a disapproving pause.
"I thought it was trying to bite my nose," explained the Child
apologetically.
"There's not very much to bite, you know," said Uncle Andy, in a
carping mood at having had his reveries disturbed.
"I know it's pretty little, and turns up--rather," agreed the Child;
"but I don't want anything to bite it."
"Nonsense!" said Uncle Andy. "Who'd want to?"
"It was that bat!" declared the Child, pointing to the shadowy form
zigzagging over the fringe of bushes at the edge of the water. "He
came down and hit me right in the face--almost."
"That bat bite you!" retorted Uncle Andy with a sniff of scorn. "Why,
he was doing you the most friendly turn he knew how. No doubt there
was a big mosquito just going to bite you, and that little chap there
snapped it up in time to save you. There are lots of folk beside bats
that get themselves misunderstood just when they are trying hardest to
do some good.
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