ARGUS and his coffee, a look of dismay at his altered appearance, came
over her stony little countenance.

"Dear me, sir," she chirped out in her shrill voice, as she placed her
burden on the table, "are you took bad?"

Brian shook his head.

"Want of sleep, that's all, Mrs. Sampson," he answered, unfolding the
ARGUS.

"Ah! that's because ye ain't got enough blood in yer 'ead," said Mrs.
Sampson, wisely, for she had her own ideas on the subject of health.
"If you ain't got blood you ain't got sleep."

Brian looked at her as she said this, for there seemed such an obvious
want of blood in her veins that he wondered if she had ever slept in
all her life.

"There was my father's brother, which, of course, makes 'im my uncle,"
went on the landlady, pouring out a cup of coffee for Brian, "an' the
blood 'e 'ad was somethin' astoundin', which it made 'im sleep that
long as they 'ad to draw pints from 'im afore 'e'd wake in the
mornin'."

Brian had the ARGUS before his face, and under its friendly cover he
laughed quietly to himself.

"His blood poured out like a river," went on the landlady, still
drawing from the rich stores of her imagination, "and the doctor was