an hour the clock struck again, and its voice seemed harsh, as if saying,
"Young man, young man, wake up!" The notes had no startling effect on
Charlie. Indeed, he heard them only as a very sweet, musical voice. The
pistols and cannons going off in Water Street reached his ear as mild
little pops. Things went on in this way till morning. About five Charlie
dropped on the floor the book of Indians and dragons, that patiently had
been resting in his lap all night. It roused him. He partially opened his
eyes. Before him was an opened door that led into the parlor, and, sitting
in his chair, he could see the parlor windows, whose curtains were up and
whose panes were brightened by the light in the eastern sky. What did he
see at those windows? Had some of the Indians, imagined to be under
Charlie's table, gone to the outside of the windows, there to look in,
grinning at him and shaking their head-feathers at a boy stupidly sitting
near a table on which was a lighted lamp? Charlie rubbed his eyes for a
better look, then rubbed again and again, and--and--were those Indians
shouting, "Charlie, how are you?" He now sprang to his feet, fully awake,
and there were several members of the club, their faces streaked with red
chalk, their caps ornamented with all kinds of feathers, their--Charlie
did not take another look at their decorations! He only glanced at the
clock, exclaimed, "Five o'clock! Whew!" seized his cap, and rushed
out-doors.

"Wake up, Charlie! Wake up, Charlie!" was the greeting of his comrades.

"Whew, fellers, aint this cheeky?" inquired Charlie.

"I should think it was--in you. Did your nap refresh you?" asked Sid.

"Why didn't you come round and wake me up?" said the governor.