So I make quick jump at wall with determined elbows. But Hon. Paper were more sudden than me. Before I could think he looped himself sidewise and became stuck on himself.
This make curious perdiclement. Try as I should to pry him apart, he become more and more absorbed in his personality. By this time his blue complexion were so confused by finger-prints that he look entirely Bertillon. It would require mathematics to tell which was right side of him and which wrong.
Then I decide to kill him at once and try another. So I clump him up in wad resembling laundry and cast him outward by window.
This were cruel thing to do, but there are some things which look best when you can’t see them.
Next piece paper I try were less backward. He stand very tame & quiet while I measure him. He sat still and wagg his tail while I paste him by brush. I love very much to think how polite he act. Pretty soonly he were ready to be hung, so I elope up ladder filled with happy thoughts to think how happy Mrs Mac Frenzie would get when she seen her wall so broke out with buds. With art expression peculiar to Michael Angelo I upraise Hon. Wall Paper aboveward. He lay still and quiet like eggs. Adjusting my thumbs I was entirely ready to paste him when—O pounce!
Oozing damp glue from his annointed back he suddenly fall on my head and surround me where I stood on that ladder.
It were like riding an airship while being buried in a tent full of mucilage. It were like sleeping between sheets of fly-paper.
I were in a very perdiculous position. Must I leap from ladder, thusly bursting neck so far from Japan? Or must I stood there and be gradually smothered up in mural decorations?
I could feel sticky substance drooping from my hair & eyebrows. I stood on my perch like a blind bird.
“What this?” I could see a voice beside me saying so. It were Mrs Mac Frenzie, I could told by the claws in her speech.