Word: beds
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Dates: during 1880-1889
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...alarm, on going to bed, I thought I noticed a malicious twinkle in the old clock's sombre countenance. It may have been fancy, though, on my part...
...smother the sound. I put it in the bureau drawer. Clang! whirr! sphiz! The thing was getting serious. If the diabolical machine kept on, Boxer might wake, and then - but I wasn't going to be balked by a mere piece of mechanism. I threw it into the bed, between the blankets. Clang! swurr! The perspiration stood on my brow; a reckless desperation seized upon me. I hurled it into the closet, and tumbled all my clothes - dress suit and all - down upon it. Spiz! wrurr! like ten thousand furies. Was there no way to stop the cursed thing...
...fact that each janitor wishes to make as much money as possible, and therefore hires the cheapest, which is the poorest, help, - in most cases recommended by an intelligence office. On this account, too, changes are constantly taking place, and one cannot tell, when he goes to bed, who will come in the morning to make his fire and set his room in order. To this fact, more than any other, may be attributed the many thefts which have occurred of late in College buildings...
...grub' in the Library; so many of your fellow-students seem to neglect their opportunities, it is really shameful." Before '84 could recover from this shock to his nerves, Aunt Meeker had approached, and said that Tootsy must go, adding that it was doubtless also the young gentleman's bed-time. In saying adieu, Persimmons pressed Tootsy's hand softly, and asked if he might call. "Certainly," replied she, in her cooing tones. Soon after, the student said good-night to his host, and left, muttering to himself, "I 'm mashed! I 'm mashed...
...stirring, not even a mouse," as the poet says, - I remember his grandfather well. Then I gently opened the door and looked in: the room was dark, but I thought - I thought that Alfred's mouth was - yes, it certainly was - open, ever so little. I crept near the bed. I could distinguish a faint sound, like the soughing of the wind through the pines. And then - then the poet stirred uneasily; then did he start up, and fell me to the ground with a pillow; and, before I could make good my retreat, he had discovered my identity...