“Thank you, Sir”, I said and shrugged my shoulders at his interference. In another hour he came round again.
“Why is there no mattress here and no blanket?” he asked.
“Because I don’t need ’em”, I replied.
“You must have them”, he barked, “it’s the rule, d’ye understand?” and he hurried on with his inspection. In half an hour he was back again.
“You haven’t the mattress yet”, he snarled.
“I don’t want a mattress”, I replied.
“Where’s your father or mother”, he asked.
“Haven’t got any”, I retorted.
“Do they let children like you go to America” he cried, “What age are you?”
I was furious with him for exposing my youth there in public before everyone. “How does it matter to you?” I asked disdainfully. “You’re not responsible for me, thank God!”