se him, and he continued snoring as before; whereupon
I touched him slightly with my riding wand, but failing to wake him, I
touched him again more vigorously; whereupon he opened his eyes, and,
probably imagining himself in a dream, closed them again. But I was
determined to arouse him, and cried as loud as I could, "Sir, sir, pray
sleep no more!" He heard what I said, opened his eyes again, stared at
me with a look of some consciousness, and, half raising himself upon his
elbows, asked me what was the matter. "I beg your pardon," said I, "but
I took the liberty of awaking you, because you appeared to be much
disturbed in your sleep--I was fearful, too, that you might catch a fever
from sleeping under a tree." "I run no risk," said the man, "I often
come and sleep here; and as for being disturbed in my sleep, I felt very
comfortable; I wish you had not awoke me." "Well," said I, "I beg your
pardon once more. I assure you that what I did was with the best
intention." "Oh! pray make no further apology," said the individual, "I
make no doubt that what you did was done kindly; but there's an old
proverb, to the effect, 'that you should let sleeping dogs lie,'" he
added with a smile. Then, getting up, and stretching himself with a
yawn, he took up his book and said, "I have slept quite long enough, and
it's quite time for me to be going home." "Excuse my curiosity," said I,
"if I inquire what may induce you to come and sleep in this meadow?" "To
tell you the truth," answered he, "I am a bad sleeper." "Pray pardon
me," said I, "if I tell you that I never saw one sleep more heartily."
"If I did so," said the individual, "I am beholden to this meadow and
this book; but I am talking riddles, and will explain myself. I am the
owner of a very pretty property, of which this valley forms part. Some
years ago, however, up started a person who said the property was his; a
lawsuit ensued, and I was on the brink of losing my all, when, most
unexpectedly, the suit was determined in my favour. Owing, however, to
the anxiety to which my mind had been subjected for several years, my
nerves had become terribly shaken; and no sooner was the trial terminated
than sleep forsook my pillow. I sometimes passed nights without closing
an eye; I took opiates, but they rather increased than alleviated my
malady. About three weeks ago a friend of mine put this book into my
hand, and advised me to take it every day to some pleasant part of