"
"In a minute now. Just wait till I finish this . . . "
"Go do it now."
Mr. General Public has a card on his desk that says, "Do it Now,"
and so he lays down his book with a patient sigh, and comes back to
it with a patent grouch.
"Oh, so it is," says the voice from the bedroom. "I remember now,
I locked it myself when I put the milk-bottles out . . . . I'm
going to stop taking of that man unless there's more cream on the
top than there has been here lately."
"M."
"Henry!"
"Oh, what is it?"
"Aren't you 'most done reading?"
"In a minute, just as soon as I finish this chapter."
"How long is that chapter, for mercy's sakes?"
"I began another."
"Henry!"
"What?"
"Aren't you coming to bed pretty soon? You know I can't go to
sleep when you are sitting up."
"Oh, hush up for one minute, can't ye? It's a funny thing if I
can't read a little once in a while."
"It's a funny thing if I've got to be broke of my rest this way. As
much as I have to look after. I'd hate to be so selfish . . . .
Henry! Won't you please put the book down and come to bed?"
"Oh, for goodness sake! Turn over and go to sleep. You make me
tired."
Every two or three hours Mrs. General Public wakes up and announces
that she can't get a wink of sleep, not a wink; she wishes he hadn't
brought the plagued old book home; he hasn't the least bit of
consideration for her; please, please, won't he put the book away
and come to bed?
He reaches "THE END" at 2:30A.
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