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*Did I hear things, or can that little dog speak?' Said Dibbler.
'He says he can't,' said Victor.
Dibbler hesitated. 'Well,' he said, 'I suppose he should know.'
The Bursar shrugged. "This pot", he said, peering closely, "is actually quite an old Ming vase."
He waited expectantly.
"Why's it called Ming?" said the Archchancellor, on cue.
The Bursar tapped the pot. It went ming.
Inside every old person is a young person wondering what happened.
The universe contains any amount of horrible ways to be woken up, such as the noise of the mob breaking down the front door, the scream of fire engines, or the realization that today is the Monday which on Friday night was a comfortably long way off.