My uncle knocked on my door at the hotel and, without waiting to be
bidden, thrust in his great, red, bristling, monstrously scarred head.
'Twas an intrusion most diffident and fearful: he was like a
mischievous boy come for chastisement.
"You here, Dannie?" he gently inquired.
"Come in, sir," says I.
'Twas awkwardly--with a bashful grin and halting, doubtful step--that
he stumped in.
"Comfortable?" he asked, looking about. "No complaint t' make ag'in
this here hotel?"