But I made a mistake. Two of them, bigger and better than the rest, were goose down AND feathers.

Over time the feathers are slowly but surely working their little quills through the pillow cases and manage to nip me, plunging their sharp barbs into my sensitive and tender flesh like hypodermic syringes.

Which, of course, wakes me up as I, like the Princess of Hans Anderson's story, am of royal sensitivity.

I've put up with them but I've learned my lesson. Never buy the cheaper versions. Only ever buy DOWN pillows.