Having finished dinner with this solemn speech, Mr. Hill settled himself
in his arm-chair, to take his after-dinner's nap: and he dreamed of
blowing up cathedrals, and of oak bark floating upon the waters; and the
cathedral was, he thought, blown up by a man dressed in a pair of woman's
Limerick gloves, and the oak bark turned into mutton steaks, after which
his great dog Jowler was swimming; when, all on a sudden, as he was going
to beat Jowler for eating the bark transformed into mutton steaks, Jowler
became Bampfylde the Second, king of the gipsies; and putting a horse-
whip with a silver handle into Hill's hand, commanded him three times, in
a voice as loud as the town-crier's, to have O'Neill whipped through the
market-place of Hereford: but just as he was going to the window to see
this whipping, his wig fell off, and he awoke.

It was difficult, even for Mr. Hill's sagacity, to make sense of this
dream: but he had the wise art of always finding in his dreams something
that confirmed his waking determinations. Before he went to sleep, he
had half resolved to consult the king of the gipsies, in the absence of
the attorney; and his dream made him now wholly determined upon this
prudent step. "From Bampfylde the Second," thought he, "I shall learn
for certain who made the hole under the cathedral, who pulled down my
rick of bark, and who made away with my dog Jowler; and then I shall
swear examinations against O'Neill, without waiting for attorneys. I
will follow my own way in this business: I have always found my own way
best."

So, when the dusk of the evening increased, our wise man set out towards
the wood to consult the cunning man. Bampfylde the Second, king of the
gipsies, resided in a sort of hut made of the branches of trees; the
verger stooped, but did not stoop low enough, as he entered this
temporary palace, and, whilst his body was almost bent double, his peruke