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. (The German bedstead, be it remembered, is built in the
form of a shallow, open box, and the victim is thus completely
surrounded by solid pieces of wood with sharp edges. I do not know
what species of wood it is that is employed. It is extremely hard,
and gives forth a curious musical sound when struck sharply with a
bone.)
After this he lies perfectly still for a while, wondering where he
is going to be hit next. Finding that nothing happens, he begins to
regain confidence, and ventures to gently feel around with his left
leg and take stock of his position.
For clothes, he has only a very thin blanket and sheet, and beneath
these he feels decidedly chilly. The bed is warm enough, so far as
it goes, but there is not enough of it. He draws it up round his
chin, and then his feet begin to freeze. He pushes it down over his
feet, and then all the top part of him shivers.
He tries to roll up into a ball, so as to get the whole of himself
underneath it, but does not succeed; there is always some of him
left outside in the cold.
He reflects that a "boneless wonder" or a "man serpent" would be
comfortable enough in this bed, and wishes that he had been brought
up as a contortionist. If he could only tie his legs round his
neck, and tuck his head in under his arm, all would yet be well.
Never having been taught to do any really useful tricks such as
these, however, he has to be content to remain spread out, warming a
bit of himself at a time.
It is, perhaps, foolish of him, amid so many real troubles, to allow
a mere aesthetical consideration to worry him, but as he lies there
on his back, looking down at himself, the sight that he presents to
himself considerably annoys him. The puffed-up bed, resting on the
middle of him, gives him the appearance of a man suffering from some
monstrous swelling, or else of some exceptionally well-developed
frog that has been turned up the wrong way and does not know how to
get on to its legs again.
