"Two forfeits—does it make eight feet or four fore feet?"
"I don't know, I'm all mixed up," said Billy, "how many?"
"Well, seven times two makes twenty-four, doesn't it?"
"Yes—no-no—of course not; it makes fourteen."
"How can I expect you to understand if you know how to figure? Well, well, here's Night Mare after all—I thought she was never coming."
And sure enough up galloped a great night mare. Now some people say that Night Mare looks just exactly like a horse, but Billy knows better, for he saw this one very, very plainly. Her body was made of a long hard bolster, her legs of the four posts of a bedstead, her neck was a pillow, her head a piano stool, her eyes were two night lamps, and her tail was mosquito netting.
"Here's Billy Bounce," called a chorus of voices from her back, and down scrambled a cabbage, a carrot, a plum pudding, a mince pie, a welch rabbit, a pot of jam, and goodness knows how many other things that little boys should not eat.
"Is Gammon there?" called a voice.