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Poor Tilly was unhappy at his long silences fretted over them in bed at night. Mahony made excuses for Purdy, urging his unsettled mode of life. But it pleased him to see that Polly took sides with her friend, and loyally espoused her cause. No, there had not been a single jarring note in all their intercourse; each moment had made the dear girl dearer to him.
The man who had loved Brigitte, who had offended her, then insulted her, then abandoned her only to take her back again, trembling with fear, beset with suspicion, finally thrown on that bed of sorrow, where she now lay extended, was I!" I beat my breast, and, although looking at her, I could not believe it. I touched her as if to assure myself that it was not a dream.
Why rest and sleep are needed. Sleep a condition. We should sleep in the night. Moral tendency of not doing so. Is there any moral character in such things? Of rest without sleep. Good habits in regard to sleep. Apartments for sleep. Air. Bed. Covering. Temperature. Night clothing. Advice of Macnish on the number of persons to a bed. Preparation for sleep. Suppers.
Eagerly enough they escaped from the automobile where they had been shut in and entered the spacious lobby of the hotel, where a merry throng of tourists had gathered. "Dinner and bed," said Patsy, decidedly. "I'm all tired out, and poor Myrtle is worn to a frazzle.
At the foot of the bed, dressed in black, her long hair floating wildly over her shoulders, and with a hand embracing one of those of the sufferer, sat a female, apparently wholly absorbed in the contemplation of the scene before her.
One evening, as the marquis was about to go to bed, this man, returning from one of his expeditions, entered his room, where he remained for a long time, telling him that he had at length found what he wanted, and giving him a small piece of paper which contained several names of places and persons.
The curtains of his bed were drawn, when he was alone in the room, and here, of course, we have only his evidence. One evening about eleven, he and his servants heard the papers on a table being turned over, and, though they suspected the cat, no cat could be found.
"It is always nice and dry there," he said, "for the rain runs right off the mushroom and does not touch my little cobweb home!" That night as he lay in his little thistle-down bed, Thumbkins heard it thundering. "I'm very glad that I haven't a home built right out upon the bare ground like the meadow-larks!" he said. And as the thunder grew louder, Thumbkins turned over and tried to go to sleep.
And when he comes to the next inn, and snuggles in his well-warmed, bed, he thinks of the wild waste of heather where he might have had to spend the night alone beneath the stars; nor does it, I think, occur to him that the broad road he treads all day was once a trackless heath itself. But the poor silly tenth is faring on.
Whenever possible, get your bed blown up and your sleeping bags in order on top and your sleeping things together where you can put your hands on them during the daylight, or if that is impossible, make it the first thing you do when you make camp, while the cook is getting supper.
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