Chapter XI: A Night Surprise

Boodels and Milburd knock at my door at 2.30 a.m., after I've been asleep two hours, and wake me up to tell me that they had thought of a Pleasure of Poverty: it was, Milburd said,

_To think that you can't be worse off, while you hope that
others may._

I say .. "_Oh_ ... don't bother--I mean--yes--capital ... go to ... bed," and turning round, try to sleep again.

The Deputation thanks me and withdraws.

"What an idiotic thing to do," I say to myself .... "What a foolish thing" .... getting more wakeful ... "What a cruel thing .... Hang it! it's positively selfish ... it's" ... turning for the fifth time, and my pillow becoming as hot as a blister ... "Confound Boodels ... and Milburd ... it's all _his_ doing, I know" ... sitting up in bed.

It occurs to me that counting one hundred and forty backwards, and then getting out and drinking a glass of water, is a capital way of inducing sleep ...

Odd, but in Milburd and Boodels coming to rouse me at this time, I find _a_ solution to the other question that we had occupied part of our morning in discussing.

What circumstance justifies loss of patience?

Why, loss of sleep.