His immersion had not harmed him, it had merely made him wholesomely drowsy, and he had been dead asleep many hours now.

It had made Luigi drowsy, too, but he had got only brief naps, on account of his having to take the medicine every three-quarters of an hour-and Aunt Betsy Hale was there to see that he did it.

When he complained and resisted, she was quietly firm with him, and said in a low voice: "No-no, that won't do; you mustn't talk, and you mustn't retch and gag that way, either--you'll wake up your poor brother." "Well, what of it, Aunt Betsy, he--" "'Sh-h! Don't make a noise dear.

You mustn't forget that your poor brother is sick and--" "Sick, is he?
Well, I wish I--" "'Sh-h-h! Will you be quiet, Luigi! Here, now, take the rest of it--don't keep me holding the dipper all night.

I declare if you haven't left a good fourth of it in the bottom! Come--that's a good-- "Aunt Betsy, don't make me! I feel like I've swallowed a cemetery; I do, indeed.