t too may have been a mere notion--that there was a hive of bees in
each ear. Upon due consideration of all the facts, I thought it best
to turn in, and resume any inquiries that might be necessary for the
elucidation of these phenomena in the morning.

[Here, you perceive, I am gradually verging toward the adventure. The
heroine of the romance has not yet made her appearance, but depend
upon it she is getting ready. You should never hurry the female
characters; besides, it is not proper, even if this were all fiction
instead of sober truth, that the heroine should be brought upon the
stage just as the hero is tumbling into bed.]

But to proceed. Sleep was effectually banished from my eyes, and no
wonder. Who in the name of sense could sleep with forty tumblers of
Russian tea--to say nothing of the dashes that were put in
it--simmering through every nook and cranny of his body, and boiling
over in his head? There I lay, twisting and tumbling, the pillow
continually descending into the depths of infinity, but never getting
any where--the bed rolling like a dismantled hulk upon a stormy
sea--the room filled with steaming and hissing urns--a fearful thirst
parching my throat, while myriads of horrid bearded Russians were
torturing me with tumblers of boiling-hot tea dashed with
_vodka_--thus I lay a perfect victim of tea. I could even see Chinamen
with long queues picking tea-leaves off endless varieties of shrubs
that grew upon the papered walls; and Kalmuck Tartars, with their long
caravans, traversing the dreary steppes of Tartary laden with
inexhaustible burdens of the precious leaf; and the great fair of
Nijni Novgorod, with its booths, and tents, and countless boxes of
tea, and busy throngs of traders and tea-merchants, all passing like a
panorama before me, and all growing naturally out of an indefinite
background of tea.

I can not distinctly remember how long I tossed about in this way,
beset by all sorts of vagaries. Sometimes I fancied sleep had come,
and that the whole matter was a ridiculous freak of fancy, including
my visit to Moscow--that Russian tea was all a fiction, and _vodka_ a
mere nightmare; but with a nervous start I would find myself awake,
the palpable reality of my extraordinary condition staring me in the
face. Unable to endure such an anomalous frame of mind and body any
longer, I at length resolved to go down and take an airing in the
streets, believing, if any thing would have a beneficial