The bad night which made the shelter
of your comfortable cart (may I never have a worse!) so acceptable,
is still as bad as ever. Would you, in your kindness, suffer me to
rent a bed here?'
'Yes, yes,' cried Dot. 'Yes! Certainly!'
'Oh!' said the Carrier, surprised by the rapidity of this consent.
'Well! I don't object; but, still I'm not quite sure that--'
'Hush!' she interrupted. 'Dear John!'
'Why, he's stone deaf,' urged John.
'I know he is, but--Yes, sir, certainly. Yes! certainly! I'll
make him up a bed, directly, John.'
As she hurried off to do it, the flutter of her spirits, and the
agitation of her manner, were so strange that the Carrier stood
looking after her, quite confounded.
'Did its mothers make it up a Beds then!' cried Miss Slowboy to the
Baby; 'and did its hair grow brown and curly, when its caps was
lifted off, and frighten it, a precious Pets, a-sitting by the
fires!'
With that unaccountable attraction of the mind to trifles, which is
often incidental to a state of doubt and confusion, the Carrier as
he walked slowly to and fro, found himself mentally repeating even
these absurd words, many times.
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