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5. CHAPTER V.
MRS. P. AROUSES US. - GEORGE, THE SLUGGARD. - THE "WEATHER FORECAST" SWINDLE. - OUR LUGGAGE. - DEPRAVITY OF THE SMALL BOY. - THE PEOPLE GATHER ROUND US. - WE DRIVE OFF IN GREAT STYLE, AND ARRIVE AT WATERLOO. - INNOCENCE OF SOUTH WESTERN OFFICIALS CONCERNING SUCH WORLDLY THINGS AS TRAINS. - WE ARE AFLOAT, AFLOAT IN AN OPEN BOAT.
IT was Mrs. Poppets that woke me up next morning.
"Do you know that it's nearly nine o'clock, sir?"
"Nine o' what?" I cried, starting up.
"Nine o'clock," she replied, through the keyhole. "I thought you was a-oversleeping yourselves."
I woke Harris, and told him. He said:
"I thought you wanted to get up at six?"
"So I did," I answered; "why didn't you wake me?"
"How could I wake you, when you didn't wake me?" he retorted. "Now we shan't get on the water till after twelve. I wonder you take the trouble to get up at all."
"Um," I replied, "lucky for you that I do. If I hadn't woke you, you'd have lain there for the whole fortnight."
We snarled at one another in this strain for the next few minutes, when we were interrupted by a defiant snore from George.
It reminded us, for the first time since our being called, of his existence.
There he lay - the man who had wanted to know what time he should wake us - on his back, with his mouth wide open, and his knees stuck up.
I don't know why it should be, I am sure; but the sight of another man asleep in bed when I am up, maddens me. It seems to me so shocking to see the precious hours of a man's life - the priceless moments that will never come back to him again - being wasted in mere brutish sleep.
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