This not having any perceptible effect, I next resorted to coaxing.
No: he wouldn't drink the stinking stuff! Now, no doctor, I take it, likes to have his potions called "stinking stuff." I began to remonstrate; and from that--not being in a very amiable frame of mind--I ere long got mad, and was on the point of pitching into the sufferer, when it occurred to me that for a doctor to be caught thrashing his patient would be a very unbecoming spectacle! So I contented myself with giving him a "setting-up;" calling him, according to the best of my recollections, supported by the subsequent testimony of the patient, an "ungrateful dog," "peep," "nincompoop," _et als._: after listening to which for a space, Wade got up and drank the _tea_.

Peace was immediately restored with this act of obedience; and I proceeded to get him to bed.

Pulling down the boat, I filled it half up with such of the shrubs and moss as had not been besmirched with the blood of the walrus.

Wade then got into it.

I made him a pillow of the geese-feathers by piling them into the bow under his head, and spreading over them my pocket-handkerchief.