"Best joke I ever heard in my life," he said, wiping his eyes. "Don't
look at me like that, Bob; I can't bear it."
"Get off 'ome," responded Mr. Grummit, glowering at him.
"There's a crowd outside, and half the doors in the place open," said the
other. "Well, it's a good job there's no harm done. So long."
He passed, beaming, down the stairs, and Mr. Grummit, drawing near the
window, heard him explaining in a broken voice to the neighbours outside.
Strong men patted him on the back and urged him gruffly to say what he
had to say and laugh afterwards. Mr. Grummit turned from the window, and
in a slow and stately fashion prepared to retire for the night. Even the
sudden and startling disappearance of Mrs. Grummit as she got into bed
failed to move him.
"The bed's broke, Bob," she said faintly.
"Beds won't last for ever," he said, shortly; "sleep on the floor."
Mrs. Grummit clambered out, and after some trouble secured the bedclothes
and made up a bed in a corner of the room.
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