dirty hair stood upright in excitement, and the tall, ludicrous,
extraordinary, almost noble figure of a dancing bear. A third corner of
the _paillasse_ was rudely grasped by a six-foot combination of yellow
hair, red hooligan face, and sky-blue trousers; assisted by the
undersized tasseled mucker in Belgian uniform, with a pimply rogue's mug
and unlimited impertinence of diction, who had awakened me by demanding
if I wanted coffee. Albeit completely dazed by the uncouth vocal fracas,
I realised in some manner that these hostile forces were contending, not
for the possession of the mattress, but merely for the privilege of
presenting the mattress to myself.

Before I could offer any advice on this delicate topic, a childish voice
cried emphatically beside my ear: "Put the mattress here! What are you
trying to do? There's no use destroy-ing a mat-tress!"--at the same
moment the mattress rushed with cobalt strides in my direction, propelled
by the successful efforts of the Belgian uniform and the hooligan visage,
the clean-shaven man and the incoherent bear still desperately clutching
their respective corners; and upon its arrival was seized with surprising
strength by the owner of the child's voice--a fluffy little gnome-shaped
man with a sensitive face which had suffered much--and indignantly
deposited beside B.'s bed in a space mysteriously cleared for its
reception. The gnome immediately kneeled upon it and fell to carefully
smoothing certain creases caused by the recent conflict, exclaiming
slowly syllable by syllable: "Mon Dieu. Now, that's better, you mustn't
do things like that." The clean-shaven man regarded him loftily with
folded arms, while the tassel and the trousers victoriously inquired if I
had a cigarette?--and upon receiving one apiece (also the gnome, and the
clean-shaven man, who accepted his with some dignity) sat down without
much ado on B.'s bed--which groaned ominously in protest--and hungrily
fired questions at me. The bear meanwhile, looking as if nothing had