'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.
Less wearied I presume than either of them, for I had done none of the carrying, and had slept along time that day in the shade of a tree, I was awake an hour or more after they were snoring.

Every flash lit the old room like the full glare of the noonday sun.