Horrylocks and the Three Beds.

[quigonejinn]

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Horrylocks who was rather fond of playing castaway in empty pig-troughs. Alas, one evening, the pig-trough was being used to feed the pigs, so he was forced to find other entertainment -- actually, his father picked him up off the step of the cottage, gave him a good clout for being dreamy, and then told him to go into the wood and not come back until he'd stopped being such a wretched sensitive pansy.

After a good half-hour of wretched meandering and sensitive neuroticism, Horrylocks came across a small cottage in a clearing, and seeing as the door was open and seeing as how he was a very curious boy (his other hobby was to read scandalously anti-Christian books that extolled the virtues of dead pagans), he went in directly. The cottage was a handsome one, built with good materials, but despite the signs of recent habitation, it had fallen into wretched disrepair. The smell of laudanum was very strong around it, and after poking around the downstairs for a while and not finding anything to entertain him, Horrylocks found that he had become quite tired and thus went up the stairs to the loft, where there were three beds. The first -- with the name CAPTAIN SAWYER on the headboard and decorated all around with (dusty) scenes of military glory -- but was much too hard. The second -- with the name LIEUTENANT BUCKLAND on the headboard and a great number of pillows and comforters and blankets -- was much too soft.

The third bed, though, contained a delightful, rather handsome blue-eyed fellow, and after Horrylocks laid down in the bed, he decided that this Lieutenant Bush was, in matters of both beds and entertainment, as well as a number of other things, just right.