p, I know--bang up to the
mark"--here he winked an eye, and put his finger to his nose--"wide
awake--Huck--uck--uck--uck! how his name sti--sticks. Your hand, Mr.
Gammon--here--this, this way--what are you bobbing your head about for?
Ah, ha!--The floor--'pon my life!--how funny--it's like being at
sea--up, down--oh dear!"--he clapped his hand to his head.

[Pythagoras has finely observed, that a man is not to be considered dead
drunk till he lies on the floor, and stretches out his arms and legs to
prevent his going lower.]

See-saw, see-saw, up and down, up and down, went everything about him.
Now he felt sinking through the floor, then gently rising towards the
ceiling. Mr. Gammon seemed getting into a mist, and waving about the
candles in it. Mr. Titmouse's head swam; his chair seemed to be resting
on the waves of the sea.

"I'm afraid the room's rather close, Mr. Titmouse," hastily observed
Gammon, perceiving from Titmouse's sudden paleness and silence, but too
evident symptoms that his powerful intellect was for a while paralyzed.
Gammon started to the window and opened it. Paler, however, and paler
became Titmouse. Gammon's game was up much sooner than he had calculated
on.

"Mrs. Brown! Mrs. Brown!" he called out, opening the sitting-room
door--"order a coach instantly, and tell Tomkins"--that was the inn
porter--"to get his son ready to go home with this gentleman--he's not
very well." He was quickly obeyed. It was, in truth, "_all up_" with
Titmouse--at least for a while.

As soon as Gammon had thus got rid of his distinguished guest, he
ordered the table to be cleared of the glasses, and tea to be ready
within half an hour. He then walked out to enjoy the cool evening; on
returning, sat pleasantly sipping his tea, now and then dipping into
the edifying columns of the _Sunday Flash_, but oftener ruminating upon
his recent conversation with Titmouse, and speculating upon certain
possible results to himself personally; and a little after eleven
o'clock, that good man, at peace with all the world--calm and
serene--retired to repose. He had that night rather a singular dream; it
was of a snake encircling a monkey, as if in gentle and playful embrace.
Suddenly tightening its folds, a crackling sound was heard; the writhing
coils were then slowly unwound--and, with a shudder, he beheld the
monster licking over the motionless figure, till it was covered with a
viscid slime. Then the serpent began to devour his