"Now," said Herbert, as it was succeeded by silence, "he's drinking.

Now," said Herbert, as the growl resounded in the beam once more, "he's down again on his back!" Clara returned soon afterwards, and Herbert accompanied me up stairs to see our charge.

As we passed Mr.Barley's door, he was heard hoarsely muttering within, in a strain that rose and fell like wind, the following Refrain, in which I substitute good wishes for something quite the reverse:-- "Ahoy! Bless your eyes, here's old Bill Barley.

Here's old Bill Barley, bless your eyes.

Here's old Bill Barley on the flat of his back, by the Lord.