 Maybe I'm just being perverse, but if I found it any harder to get up early in the winter than I do in the summer, I'd sleep right through the spring. That's why Mrs. Davis, my landlady, had such a time waking me last Thursday morning. Connie, get up, Connie. Go away, Mrs. Davis. Come on, now. You told me yourself that you wanted to get up at 6.30 sharp. I was lying.