her to bring up his
tea-kettle about that time. Having no time to take his clothes off, he
thought the best thing he could do, would be, to pop into bed again,
draw his nightcap down to his ears and eyebrows, pretend to be asleep,
and, turning his back towards the door, have a chance of escaping the
observation of his landlady. No sooner thought of, than done. Into bed
he jumped, and drew the clothes over him--not aware, however, that in
his hurry he had left his legs, with boots and trousers on, exposed to
view--an unusual spectacle to his landlady, who had, in fact, scarcely
ever known him in bed at so late an hour before. He lay as still as a
mouse. Mrs. Squallop, after glancing with surprise at his legs,
happening to direct her eyes towards the window, beheld a small bottle
standing there--only half of whose dark contents were remaining. Oh
gracious!--of course it must be POISON, and Mr. Titmouse must be
dead!--In a sudden fright she dropped the kettle, plucked the clothes
off the trembling Titmouse, and cried out--"Oh, Mr. Titmouse! Mr.
Titmouse! what _have_ you been"----

"Well, ma'am, what the devil do you mean? How dare you"---- commenced
Titmouse, suddenly sitting up, and looking furiously at Mrs. Squallop.
An inconceivably strange and horrid figure he looked. He had all his day
clothes on; a white cotton nightcap was drawn down to his very eyes,
like a man going to be hanged; his face was very pale, and his whiskers
were of a bright green color.

"Lard a-mighty!" exclaimed Mrs. Squallop, faintly, the moment that this
strange apparition had presented itself; and sinking on the chair, she
pointed with a dismayed air to the ominous-looking object standing on
the window shelf. Titmouse thence inferred that she had found out the
true state of the case. "Well--_isn't_ it an infernal shame, Mrs.
Squallop?" said he, getting off the bed; and, plucking off his nightcap,
he exhibited the full extent of his misfortune. "What d'ye think of
_that_!" he exclaimed, staring wildly at her. Mrs. Squallop gave a faint
shriek, turned her head aside, and motioned him away.

"I shall go mad--I SHALL!" cried Titmouse, tearing his green hair.

"Oh Lord!--oh Lord!" groaned Mrs. Squallop, evidently expecting him to
leap upon her. Presently, however, she a little recovered her presence
of mind; and Titmouse, stuttering with fury, explained to her what had
taken place. As he went on, Mrs. Squallop became less and less able to
control