“It’s the top drawer.” He was beginning to lay back the table-covers.
“But I can’t reach it. And it’s been stuck for ever so long.”
“You said the top drawer.”
“Yes, I suppose I did. Of course what I meant was the top one of the ones I use.”
“I see, my dear. When you say top shelf you don’t mean top shelf, and when you say top drawer you don’t mean top drawer; in fact, when you say top you don’t mean top at all—you mean the height of your head. Everything above that doesn’t count.”
Jonathan was so pleased with this formulation of my attitude that he was not in the least irritated to have put out unnecessary work. And his satisfaction was deepened by one more incident. I had sent him to the bottom drawer of my bureau to get a shawl. He returned without it, and I was puzzled. [pg 007] “Now, Jonathan, it’s there, and it’s the top thing.”
“The real top,” murmured Jonathan, “or just what you call top?”
“It’s right in front,” I went on; “and I don’t see how even a man could fail to find it.”
He proceeded to enumerate the contents of the drawer in such strange fashion that I began to wonder where he had been.
“I said my bureau.”