The refreshing beams of the morning sun shone on his narrow white bed and on the sleeping forms of his dear little brothers and Denny, who had got the pillow on top of his head and was snoring like a kettle when it sings.

Oswald could not remember at first what was the matter with him, and then he remembered the Wouldbegoods, and wished he hadn't.

He felt at first as if there was nothing you could do, and even hesitated to buzz a pillow at Denny's head.

But he soon saw that this could not be.

So he chucked his boot and caught Denny right in the waistcoat part, and thus the day began more brightly than he had expected.
Oswald had not done anything out of the way good the night before, except that when no one was looking he polished the brass candlestick in the girls' bedroom with one of his socks.