the burden of some roaring song. He had reached the old house at last

how hot the room was. He had been ill, very ill, but he was well now,

and happy. Fill up his glass. Who was that, that dashed it from his

lips? It was the same persecutor that had followed him before. He fell

back upon his pillow and moaned aloud. A short period of oblivion,

and he was wandering through a tedious maze of low-arched rooms -

so low, sometimes, that he must creep upon his hands and knees to

make his way along; it was close and dark, and every way he turned,

some obstacle impeded his progress. There were insects, too, hideous

crawling things, with eyes that stared upon him, and filled the very air

around, glistening horribly amidst the thick darkness of the place. The

walls and ceiling were alive with reptiles - the vault expanded to an

enormous size - frightful figures flitted to and fro - and the faces of

men he knew, rendered hideous by gibing and mouthing, peered out

from among them; they were searing him with heated irons, and

binding his head with cords till the blood started; and he struggled

madly for life.

'At the close of one of these paroxysms, when I had with great

difficulty held him down in his bed, he sank into what appeared to be

a slumber. Overpowered with watching and exertion, I had closed my

eyes for a few minutes, when I felt a violent clutch on my shoulder. I

awoke instantly. He had raised himself up, so as to seat himself in bed

a dreadful change had come over his face, but consciousness had

returned, for he evidently knew me. The child, who had been long

since disturbed by his ravings, rose from its little bed, and ran

towards its father, screaming with fright - the mother hastily caught it

in her arms, lest he should injure it in the violence of his insanity;

but, terrified by the alteration of his features, stood transfixed by the

bedside. He grasped my shoulder convulsively, and, striking his breast

with the other hand, made a desperate attempt to articulate. It was

unavailing; he extended his arm towards them, and made another

violent effort. There was a rattling noise in the throat - a glare of the

eye - a short stifled groan - and he fell back - dead!'

It would afford us the highest gratification to be enabled to record Mr

Pickwick's opinion of the foregoing anecdote. We have little doubt that

we should have been enabled to present it to our readers, but for a

most unfortunate occurrence.

Mr Pickwick had replaced on the table the glass which, during the last

few sentences of the tale, he had retained in his hand; and had just

made up his mind to speak - indeed, we have the authority of Mr

Snodgrass's note-book for stating, that he had actually opened his

mouth - when the waiter entered the room, and said -

'Some gentlemen, Sir.'

The Pickwick Papers