Missus Waterlow Laughs

This is miss waterlow in bed. She's thinking, i know, a funny thing to think when i'm alone. But it all happened so long ago that she has forgotten the beginning of it before she remembers the end. When she was six months old, mister waterlow, who was a poet, wrote some verses about her and he slipped them proudly into missus waterlow's hand. One evening owing to a misunderstanding, they were used to wedge the nursery window which rattled at night. And though they wedged very delightfully for some time, mister Waterlow couldn't help feeling a little disappointed.