restored. Let him lie down again; try, could he sleep----"

"Sleep!" said M'Garry, with horror; "perhaps never to awaken!"

"I'll keep up the galvanic influence--don't be afraid; depend upon
me--there, lie down. Can you shut your eyes? Yes, I see you can:
don't open them so fast. Try, can you keep them shut? Don't open them
till I tell you--wait till I count two hundred and fifty. That's
right--turn a little more round--keep your eyes fast; that's it.
One--two--three--four--five--six--seven;" and so he went on, making a
longer interval between every number, till the monotonous sound, and
the closed eye of the helplessly drunken man, produced the effect
desired by the doctor; and the heavy snoring of the apothecary soon
bore witness that he slept.

We hope it is not necessary to assure our fair readers that Edward
O'Connor had nothing to do with this scene of drunken absurdity. No:
long before the evening's proceedings had assumed the character of a
regular drinking bout, he had contrived to make his escape, his head
only sufficiently excited to increase his sentimentality; so, instead
of riding home direct, he took a round of some eight miles, to have a
look at Merryvale, for there dwelt Fanny Dawson--the Darling Fanny
Dawson, sister to Dick, whose devilry was more than redeemed in the
family by the angelic sweetness of his lovely and sportive sister. For
the present, however, poor Edward O'Connor was not allowed to address
Fanny; but his love for her knew no abatement notwithstanding; and to
see the place where she dwelt had for him a charm. There he sat in his
saddle, at the gate, looking up the long line of old trees through
which the cool moonlight was streaming; and he fancied that Fanny's
foot had trodden that avenue perhaps a few hours before, and even
_that_ gave him pleasure: for to those who love with the fond
enthusiasm of Edward O'Connor, the very vacancy where the loved one has
been is sacred.

The horse pawed impatiently to be gone, and Edward reined him up with a
chiding voice; but the animal continuing restless, Edward's apostrophes
to his mistress, and warnings to his horse, made an odd mixture; and
we would recommend gentlemen, after their second bottle, not to let
themselves be overheard in their love-fits; for even as fine a fellow
as Edward O'Connor is likely to be ridiculous under such circumstances.

"Oh, Fanny!" cried Edward, "my adored Fanny!"--then to his horse, "_Be
quiet, you brute!_--