return to his bed when old Jacob struggled up to a sitting posture.

"Hullo, wake up, little boy!" he shouted. "My bed's all full o'
water--goodness knows where it comes from."

"I poured it over you to wake you up. Don't you know you were making
a noise with your nose?" cried Martin at the top of his voice.

"You--you--you throwed it over me! You--O you most wicked little
villain you! You throwed it over me, did you!" and here he poured
out such a torrent of abusive words that Martin was horrified and
cried out, "O what a naughty, wicked, bad old man you are!"

It was too dark for old Jacob to see him, but he knew his way about
the room, and taking up the wet rug that served him for covering he
groped his way to Martin's bed and began pounding it with the rug,
thinking the naughty little boy was there.

"You little rascal you--I hope you like that!--and that!--and that!"
he shouted, pounding away. "I'll learn you to throw water over your
poor old dad! And such a--a affectionate father as I've been too,
giving him sich nice wittels--and--and singing and dancing to him to
teach him music. Perhaps you'd like a little more, you takes it so
quietly? Well, then, take that!--and that!--and that! Why, how's
this--the young warmint ain't here arter all! Well, I'm blowed if
that don't beat everythink! What did he go and chuck that water over
me for? What a walloping I'll give him in the morning when it's light!
and now, boy, you may go and sleep on my bed, 'cos it's wet, d'ye see;
and I'll sleep on yourn, 'cos it's dry."