"I was afraid so. I suppose I'll just have to wait to grow into it, then, won't I?" said Foster philosophically.
"Perhaps we can try the helmet on you, though. If I can ever get it off; it probably hasn't been off in hundreds of years."
Julian gave a mighty tug, and the helmet flew up in his hands with no effort at all.
"Why, it's not even fastened down! O.K., Foss, stand still; let's try this bonnet on you."
Julian lowered the helmet gently down over Foster's head.
"There you go, Sir Launcelot! Can you see all right?"
"Yes, through the eye windows, but it isn't very comfortable in here," Foster complained. His voice inside the helmet had a clangorous twang: a robot's voice. "I don't like it very much. Something keeps tickling my nose. Ow."