There was
not any one in the kingdom who would have considered
it good judgment to meddle with my matters.
I was fast getting adjusted to my situation and circumstances.
For a time, I used to wake up, mornings,
and smile at my "dream," and listen for the Colt's
factory whistle; but that
sort of thing played itself
out, gradually, and at last I was fully able to realize
that I was actually living in the sixth century, and in
Arthur's court, not a
lunatic asylum.