CHAPTER XVI.

AVUNCULAR DEVOTIO

Having literally _fallen_ asleep from his chair to the rug, J. BUMSTEAD,
Esquire, was found to have reached such an extraordinary depth in
slumber, that Mr. and Mrs. SMYTHE, his landlord and landlady, who were
promptly called in by Mr. DIBBLE, had at first some fear that they
should never be able to drag him out again. In pursuance, however, of a
mode of treatment commended to their judgment, by frequent previous
practice with the same patient, the good couple poured a pitcher of
water over his fallen head; hauled him smartly up and down the room,
first by a hand and then by a foot; singed his whiskers with a hot
poker, held him head-downward for a time, and tried various other
approved allopathic remedies. Seeing that he still slept profoundly,
though appearing, by occasional movements of his arms, to entertain
certain passing dreams of single combats, the quick womanly wit of Mrs.
SMYTHE finally hit upon the homoeopathic expedient of softly shaking his
familiar antique flask at his right ear. Scarcely had the soft, liquid
sound therefrom resulting been addressed for a minute to the auricular
orifice, when a singularly pleasing smile wreathed the countenance of
the Ritualistic organist, his eyelids flew up like the spring-covers of
two valuable hunting-case watches, and he suddenly arose to a sitting
position upon the rug and began feeling around for the bed-clothes.

"There!" cried Mrs. SMYTHE, greatly affected by his pathetic expression
of countenance, "you're all right now, sir. How worn-out you must have
been, to sleep so!"