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ed down； sending his train of thought off along an entirely new track。
He looked at what he had written and added： Except Those who selle popcorn。
After a while he crossed this out； and tried： Like unto thee Staje of a Theater ys the World； whereon alle Persons strut as Players。
This seemed a bit better。
He thought for a bit； and continued conscientiously： Sometimes they walke on。 Sometimes they walke off。
He seemed to be losing it。 Time； time； what he needed was an infinity 。 。 。
There was a muffled cry and a thump from the next room。 Hwel dropped the quill and pushed open the door cautiously。
The boy was sitting up in bed； white…faced。 He relaxed when Hwel came in。
'Hwel？'
'What's up； lad？ Nightmares？'
'Gods； it was terrible！ I saw them again！ I really thought for a minute that…'
Hwel； who was absent…mindedly picking up the clothes that Tomjon had strewn around the room； paused in his work。 He was keen on dreams。 That was when the ideas came。
'That what？' he said。
'It was like 。 。 。 I mean； I was sort of inside something； like a bowl； and there were these three terrible faces peering in at me。'
'Aye？'
'Yes； and then they all said； 〃All hail 。 。 。〃 and then they started arguing about my name； and then they said； 〃Anyway； who shall be king hereafter？〃 And then one of them said； 〃Here after what？〃 and one of the other two said； 〃Just hereafter； girl； it's what you're supposed to say in these circumstances； you might try and make an effort〃； and then they all peered closer； and one of the others said； 〃He looks a bit peaky； I reckon it's all that foreign food〃； and then the youngest one said； 〃Nanny； I've told you already； there's no such place as Thespia〃； and then they bickered a bit； and one of the old ones said； 〃He can't hear us； can he？ He's tossing and turning a bit〃； and the other one said； 〃You know I've never been able to get sound on this thing； Esme〃； and then they bickered some more； and it went cloudy； and then 。 。 。 I woke up 。 。 。' he finished lamely。 'It was horrible； because every time they came close to the bowl it sort of magnified everything； so all you could see was eyes and nostrils。'
Hwel hoisted himself on to the edge of the narrow bed。
'Funny old things； dreams；' he said。
'Not much funny about that one。'
'No； but I mean； last night； I had this dream about a little bandy…legged man walking down a road；' said Hwel。 'He had a little black hat on； and he walked as though his boots were full of water。'
Tomjon nodded politely。
'Yes？' he said。 'And…？'
'Well； that was it。 And nothing。 He had this little cane which he twirled and； you know； it was incredibly 。 。 。'
The dwarfs voice trailed off。 Tomjon's face had that familiar expression of polite and slightly condescending puzzlement that Hwel had e to know and dread。
'Anyway； it was very amusing；' he said； half to himself。 But he knew he'd never convince the rest of the pany。 If it didn't have a custard pie in it somewhere； they said； it wasn't funny。
Tomjon swung his legs out of bed and reached for his britches。
'I'm not going back to sleep；' he said。 'What's the time？'
'It's after midnight；' said Hwel。 'And you know what your father said about going to bed late。'
'I'm not；' said Tomjon； pulling on his boots。 Tm getting up early。 Getting up early is very healthy。 And now I'm going out for a very healthy drink。 You can e too；' he added； 'to keep an eye on me。'
Hwel gave him a doubting look。
'You also know what your father says about going out drinking；' he said。
'Yes。 He said he used to do it all the time when he was a lad。 He said he'd think nothing of quaffing ale all night and ing home at 5 a。m。； smashing windows。 He said he was a bit of a roister…doister； not like these white…livered people today who can't hold their drink。' Tomjon adjusted his doublet in front of the mirror； and added； 'You know； Hwel； I reckon responsible behaviour is something to get when you grow older。 Like varicose veins。'
Hwel sighed。 Tomjon's memory for ill…judged remarks was legendary。
'All right；' he said。 'Just the one； though。 Somewhere decent。'
'I promise。' Tomjon adjusted his hat。 It had a feather in it。
'By the way；' he said； 'exactly how does one quaff？'
'I think it means you spill most of it；' said Hwel。
If the water of the river Ankh was rather thicker and more full of personality than ordinary river water； so the air in the Mended Drum was more crowded than normal air。 It was like dry fog。
Tomjon and Hwel watched it spilling out into the street。 The door burst open and a man came through backwards； not actually touching the ground until he hit the wall on the opposite side of the street。
An enormous troll； employed by the owners to keep a measure of order in the place； came out dragging two more limp bodies which he deposited on the cobbles； kicking them once or twice in soft places。
'I reckon they're roistering in there； don't you？' said Tomjon。
'It looks like it；' said Hwel。 He shivered。 He hated taverns。 People always put their drinks down on his head。
They scurried in quickly while the troll was holding one unconscious drinker up by one leg and banging his head on the cobbles in a search for concealed valuables。
Drinking in the Drum has been likened to diving in a swamp； except that in a swamp the alligators don't pick your pockets first。 Two hundred eyes watched the pair as they pushed their way through the crowd to the bar； a hundred mouths paused in the act of drinking； cursing or pleading； and ninety…nine brows crinkled with the effort of working out whether the newers fell into category A； people to be frightened of or B； people to frighten。
Tomjon walked through the crowd as though it was his property and； with the impetuosity of youth； rapped on the bar。 Impetuosity was not a survival trait in the Mended Drum。
'Two pints of your finest ale； landlord；' he said； in tones so carefully judged that the barman was astonished to find himself obediently filling the first mug before the echoes had died away。
Hwel looked up。 There was an extremely big man on his right； wearing the outside of several large bulls and more chains than necessary to moor a warship。 A face that looked like a building site with hair on it glared down at him。
'Bloody hell；' it said。 'It's a bloody lawn ornament。'
Hwel went cold。 Cosmopolitan as they were； the people of Morpork had a breezy； no…nonsense approach to the non…human races； i。e。； hit them over the head with a brick and throw them in the river。 This did not apply to trolls； naturally； because it is very difficult to be racially prejudiced against creatures seven feet tall who can bite through walls； at least for very long。 But people three feet high were absolutely designed to be discriminated against。
The giant prodded Hwel on the top of his head。
'Where's your fishing rod； lawn ornament？' he said。
The barman pushed the mugs across the puddled counter。
'Here you are；' he said； leering。 'One pint。 And one half pint。'
Tomjon opened his mouth to speak； but Hwel nudged him sharply in the knee。 Put up with it； put up with it； slip out as soon as possible； it was the only way 。 。 。
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