For I know when I grow older,
And my beaux affairs grow bolder ...
By her tactics, I’ll be colder
Than Marie!
FREUDIANISMS
Then the fish all turn into girls, and the shimmery tale of the goldfish-in-chief changes into dance slippers. Soon her voice begins to call to you. It grows louder and louder. At last you realized that she is saying—
“Eight o’clock—time to get up!”
You heave a sleepy sigh and look at the clock. It says “eight o’clock” but it is probably fast. You turn over and try to remember that dream about goldfish. Or was it girls? Girls or goldfish? Goldfish or girls? They both begin with “g”. Queer, “g.” Stands for “goloshes” and “grapes” and “gloves” and—
“Ten minutes past eight.”
“All right,” you drone dutifully. (But you know it isn’t all right).