“Are you going to sleep here for ever?”
A grunt, accompanied by the kicking out of one leg, which would have taken effect if Ned had not hopped over it.
“I say, are you going to sleep for a week?”
“No! And I’m not asleep now,” said Chris, with his eyelids squeezed very close together; “but I tell you what, if you don’t be off and leave me alone I’ll get up and punch your stupid old head.”
“You daren’t.—I should like to see you!”
“You soon will, and so I tell you. Be off, or I’ll empty the wash-hand jug over you.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Ned. “Where is it?”
“Oh, bother! Be off!”
“Shan’t! Do you know it’s to-morrow morning?”
“No, I don’t, Paddy Bull. How can it be to-morrow when it’s to-day?”