We went to bed then, and it was daylight when I awoke. I was conscious of a peculiar whirring noise, but I hadn’t got thoroughly awakened when I heard the most awful screams and thumps, and the two boys came running into our room in their night-dresses, and after them the automatic maid-of-all-work. By this time I was out of bed, but John sleeps very soundly. He started as the maid jerked the bed-clothes down and laid them over the foot-board, but he wasn’t quick enough. It took him under the arm. It had an awful grip, too,—and laid him across the foot-board, after giving him a thump or two, as I do the pillows. (John had watched me do it and had the thing to perfection. He didn’t suppose it would be tried on him, though). He didn’t seem quite prepared for such a performance, for he flounced around so that he and the bed-clothes, pillows and all, landed in a heap on the floor. By this time the boys had got over their fright, having been treated in the same manner, and we all laughed. John can’t bear to be laughed at. However, we proceeded to dress after the maid had gone downstairs. I could see John was a little nervous, but he didn’t want to show it, so he waited till I was ready. The boys got down first, and we could hear them laughing. “I dare say you’ll have to arrange the table a little, Fanny,” said John, as we went down, “but that won’t be much to do when all the things are on.” Well, we went into the dining-room, and sure enough the table was set, and pretty well too, only that the butter dish, with the butter, was upside down on the table, and the coal-scuttle was set at John’s place, instead of the oatmeal dish. That was because John, who always leaves things in ridiculous places, had left it standing on the back of the stove after putting in the coal ready for the morning fire. The porridge was standing cooked on the stove. We had got an arrangement with a white earthen bowl set into a kettle, and the bowl had just to be removed and carried in. However, the coal scuttle had stood in the way, and John had to carry it out and bring in the porridge. The toast was scorched a little, but the eggs were boiled just to perfection, and we enjoyed it all immensely. Meanwhile the maid was upstairs making the beds, and such beds you never saw. You’d think they’d been cast in a mould. The maid came downstairs just as we were through, and then John pulled another wire. After doing so he acted rather strangely. He didn’t seem to be able to let go the wire for a minute. It gave him a shock, you know. After that he handled the wires more carefully.