I want
something to put my head on; not a thing that comes down to the
middle of my back! Don't tell me that I've got to sleep on these
things!"
But the girl does tell him so, and also implies that she has
something else to do than to stand there all day talking bed-gossip
with him.
"Well, just show me how to start," he says, "which way you get into
it, and then I won't keep you any longer; I'll puzzle out the rest
for myself."
She explains the trick to him and leaves, and he undresses and
crawls in.
The pillows give him a good deal of worry. He does not know whether
he is meant to sit on them or merely to lean up against them. In
experimenting upon this point, he bumps his head against the top
board of the bedstead. At this, he says, "Oh!" and shoots himself
down to the bottom of the bed. Here all his ten toes simultaneously
come into sharp contact with the board at the bottom.
Nothing irritates a man more than being rapped over the toes,
especially if he feels that he has done nothing to deserve it. He
says, "Oh, damn!" this time, and spasmodically doubles up his legs,
thus giving his knees a violent blow against the board at the side
of the bed.
