Believe me, the poetry would be the better for it, as well as the stomach.

Now, positively, I shall begin questioning you." So Elsley was won to detail the symptoms of internal _malaise_, which he was only too much in the habit of watching himself; but there were some among them which Tom could not quite account for on the ground of mere effeminate habits.

A thought struck him.
"You sleep ill, I suppose ?" said he carelessly.
"Very ill." "Did you ever try opiates ?" "No--yes--that is, sometimes." "Ah!" said Tom, more carelessly still, for he wished to hide, by all means, the importance of the confession.

"Well, they give relief for a time: but they are dangerous things--disorder the digestion, and have their revenge on the nerves next morning, as spitefully as brandy itself.

Much better try a glass of strong ale or porter just before going to bed.