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hard for a considerable period: nor had he for many months perspired so freely as he did while taking down his bedstead.

"Judkins!" exclaimed cook, who heard him at work: "what on earth are you after? Are you going to knock the house down?"

"Good luck to you," returned Judkins, "bring us a drop of beer."

"But what are you about?"

"Bring the beer up, old girl, and I'll tell you."

Prompted by a natural feeling of curiosity, cook drew him some beer, and went up with it at once.

"Why, what, in the name of goodness," she cried, "are you doing?"

"Taking down my bedstead, that's all."

"I'm sure there was no call for that: there's no bugs!"

"Bugs! No, there's no bugs, I believe."

"Then, what on earth do you want to take it down for?"

"Because Mr. Sylvester wished me to do so."

"What for?"

"Because he wants me to sleep in his room."

"In his room! Well, that is a fancy."

"Yes," replied Judkins, "it certainly is a fancy."

"A fancy! I never heard of such a thing in the whole course of my life. In his room! Why, what in the name of goodness does he want you to sleep in his room for?"

"You'll know by-and-bye."

"Is he afraid to sleep in a room by himself?"

"Yes."

"Then he's been up to no good. Depend upon it, he's been up to no good."

"Don't be quite so fast."

"Fast! Why if it isn't that, what does he want you to sleep in his room for?"

"Don't heat yourself, and I'll tell you. He is what they call a somnambulist."

"I thought so!" exclaimed cook. "As true as I stand here, I thought so."

"You did! Do you know what a somnambulist is?"

"Do I know what it is! Why, you don't suppose I'm so ignorant as all that comes to, do you?"

"Well, come now, what is a somnambulist?"

"Why, a man that marries other men's wives, to be sure."

"Pooh! you mean a bigamist; that's what you mean."

"Well, it's all the same, isn't it?"

"No, quite different. A somnambulist is a man who walks in his sleep."

"Why, to be sure it is. How stupid! I know now. But—what—why—you don't mean to say that Mr. Sylvester does it."

"He has done it for years, and does it now; and that's the reason why I'm to sleep in his room."

" But my goodness me though!—why—"

"I haven't time to say nothing more about it now. Just lend us