The dolls’ dressmaker looked on until he rolled himself into a corner with his Turkish slippers uppermost, and then, resolving in the first place to address her ministration to the salt and snuff, gave him more water and slapped his back. But, the latter application was by no means a success, causing Mr. Fledgeby to scream, and to cry out, “Oh my eye! don’t slap me! I’m covered with weales and I smart so!”

However, he gradually ceased to choke and crow, saving at intervals, and Miss Jenny got him into an easy-chair: where, with his eyes red and watery, with his features swollen, and with some half-dozen livid bars across his face, he presented a most rueful sight.

“What ever possessed you to take salt and snuff, young man?” inquired Miss Jenny.

“I didn’t take it,” the dismal youth replied. “It was crammed into my mouth.”

“Who crammed it?” asked Miss Jenny.