A warm hand stroked his hair.

He liked it, jerked his head up, and hit his new friend's chin.
"Oh, damn!" he heard quite clearly.

This was a new sound to Ernest Henry; but just now he was interested in sounds, and had learnt lately quite a number.

This was a soft, pleasant, easy sound.

He liked it.
And so, with it echoing in his head, his curly head against his father's shoulder, the bump glistening in the candle-light, the beasts defeated and derided, he tumbled into sleep.
IV A pleasant sight at breakfast was Ernest Henry, with his yellow curls gleaming from his bath, his bib tied firmly under his determined chin, his fat fingers clutching a large spoon, his body barricaded into a high chair, his heels swinging and kicking and swinging again.