"Ginerally some'eres between six and a quarter-past."
"My God!" muttered Mr. Bonaparte.
"We will be there at six-fifteen," said Mr. Bacon firmly. "Good evening, Mr. Crow."
Far in the night, Mrs. Crow peevishly mumbled to her bedfellow: "What ails you, Anderson Crow? Go to sleep!"
"Never mind, never mind. I can't tell you, so don't pester me. All I ast of you is to wake me at five if I happen to oversleep."
"Well, of all the—do you suppose I'm goin' to lay awake here all night waitin' for five o'clock to——"
"How in thunder do you expect me to go to sleep, Eva, if you keep jabberin' away to me all night long like this? Ding it all to gosh, here it is after one o'clock an' you still talkin'. Don't do it, I say. Don't ast another question till five o'clock, an' then all you got to do it to ast me if I'm awake."
"Umph!" said Mrs. Crow.
Messrs. Bacon and Bonaparte were an hour and forty minutes late.