Headie

“Poor ’Rallie,” cried Babs, sympathizingly, “does your headie ache?” The Admiral drew out his head, and looked at the child very mournfully indeed.

Várenka greeted him with a searching glance, and the amiable query: “is your headie better?” “Yes, thank you . . .” he replied drily, seating himself at a distance from her, and thinking to himself: “She does not even know how to speak: ‘is your headie better?’ indeed!”

Rockaby baby, go to sleep baby, / Nestle your headie on mama’s own breast.

With a wing on the right, / They lay down their headies / And sleep through the night.

And as soon as that temperature returns to normal, let’s talk about the thingies that go through your headie at night.

“[…] The band is giving me a headache.” “Music hurt your headie?” “A little bit.”

“He has a geeyoteen in his mouth.” “And what’s a geeyoteen?” “A machine to chop off your headie.” Cook slid his hand like a blade across his neck and smiled crookedly.