"What do you mean, little boy, by closing up my window?"

"What window?" asked Diamond.

"You stuffed hay into it three times last night! I had to blow it out
again three times!"

"You can't mean this little hole? It isn't a window. It is a hole in my
bed."

"I did not say _a_ window. I said it was _my_ window!"

"But it can't be a window!" said Diamond. "Windows are holes to see out
of."

"Well, that is just what I made this window for."

"But you are outside," answered Diamond. "You can't want a window."

"You are quite mistaken. Windows are to see out of, you say. Well, I am
in my house, and I want windows to see out of."

"But you have made a window into my bed."

"Well, your mother has three windows into my dancing hall, and you have
three into my garret."

"Dear me!" said Diamond. "Still you can hardly expect me to keep a
window in my bed for you. Now, can you?"