You don't mind my getting on the bed, do you?
Perhaps here they won't notice me." While you are dressing various shock heads peer in at the door; they evidently regard the room as a temporary menagerie.

You cannot tell whether the heads belong to boys or girls; you can only hope they are all male.

It is of no use shutting the door, because there is nothing to fasten it by, and the moment you are gone they push it open again.

You breakfast as the Prodigal Son is generally represented feeding: a pig or two drop in to keep you company; a party of elderly geese criticise you from the door; you gather from their whispers, added to their shocked expression, that they are talking scandal about you.

Maybe a cow will condescend to give a glance in.
This Noah's Ark arrangement it is, I suppose, that gives to the Black Forest home its distinctive scent.