little sugar, and a spice of nutmeg--nothing else--then it's delicious."

"Upon my soul, this is too bad," said I to myself. "Let us see what
shaking will do. Sir, sir, I shall feel obliged by--"

"Well there, don't shake me, and I'll tell you where I hid the cigars
--they are under my straw hat in the window."

"Well, really," thought I, "if this gentleman's confessions were of an
interesting nature, this might be good fun; but as the night is cold, I
must shorten the 'seance,' so here goes for one effort more.

"If, sir, you could kindly spare me even a small portion of your
bed-clothes."

"No, thank you, no more wine; but I'll sing with pleasure;" and here the
wretch, in something like the voice of a frog with the quinsy, began,
"'I'd mourn the hopes that leave me.'"

"You shall mourn something else for the same reason," said I, as losing
all patience, I seized quilts and blankets by the corner, and with one
vigourous pull wrenched them from the bed, and darted from the room--in a
second I was in the corridor, trailing my spoil behind--which in my haste
I had not time to collect in a bundle. I flew rather than ran along the
passage, reached the stairs, and in another minute had reached the second
gallery, but not before I heard the slam of a door behind me, and the
same instant the footsteps of a person running along the corridor, who
could be no other than my pursuer, effectually aroused by my last appeal
to his charity. I darted along the dark and narrow passage; but soon to
my horror discovered that I must have passed the door of my chamber, for