However, it was not my fate to die in good earnest.
By-and-by I opened my eyes, feeling in
very passable health, though somewhat weak and
dejected.

The devils, or my late attendants, whoever they
were, had all vanished, and with them noise, darkness,
and the various ill odours that had afflicted
my nostrils. I was lying in a very good bed, and
chamber with curtained windows, the curtains being
closed, to keep out the sunshine that was playing
on them; and at my side there sat in an arm-chair
a young gentleman of a buckish appearance,
sound asleep. The creaking of the bed, as I rose
on my elbow, roused him; he started, rubbed his
eyes, and, looking me in the face, burst into a
hearty laugh.

“Bravo!” he cried; “I told old Boneset so! I
could watch as comfortably as ever a child's nurse
of Messina. I thought I should have the child
wake me with crying! I vow to gad, I've been
snoozing all night. And so you've opened your
peepers like an honest man at last, Dawky!—
Pray, what the devil made you drown yourself?”

And here the young gentleman, seizing me by

[figure description] Page 132.[end figure description]

the hand, fell a laughing again, and that with more
zest than before.

“Sah!” said I, looking at him with both surprise
and confusion; for, though his voice and face
seemed familiar to me, I could not for the life of
me say who he was. “Sa—ah, really I—ah—”
and here I stopped; for, first, I knew not what to
say, and secondly, my bewildered looks set him
into such a roar of merriment, that there was no
saying a word to him.

“Come, you dog,” said he, with a grin here and
a roar there, “don't be comical just after coming
out of the grave. A man just fished out of a river,
and rescued from death after a hard fight between
the doctor and the devil, should be serious and ecclesiastical,
solemn of visage, and sanctified of
conversation. No joking, you dog; but get up,
Absalomize, and talk. No joking, I say; no joking
with Jack Tickle.”

As he spoke he seized me by the shoulder, and
dragged me half out of bed.

“Ged and demmee!” said I, “remember my
foot!” For my toe catching in the bed-cord, I suddenly
recollected the gouty member.

“I will,” said he, with another roar; “for, the
Lord knows, 'tis the best part of you. Spoil Dawky's
foot, and ruin him with women and shoe-makers
for ever! The one ceases to adore, and
the other trusts no longer.”

“But I mean the gout,” said I.

“The fiddlestick and fiddle!” said he: “

[figure description] Page 133.[end figure description]

whoever heard of a poor dandy, living on tick, having
the gout? Up, Dawky, my dog, and tell me what
set you to drowning? If 'twas about Betty Small,
'twas a small matter. What! drown for being
jilted! If 'twas about the tailor's bill, 'twas still
more ridiculous. I say, Dawky, my fellow, what
made you drown yourself?”

“Drown myself!” said I; but I said it with a
stare. The odd behaviour and expressions of the
young gentleman, who called himself Jack Tickle
(a name that I never remembered to have heard
before in my life, although his countenance was
certainly highly familiar), and certain queer associations
his appearance gave birth to; the singularity
of my feelings; and, more than all, the appearance
of my foot and leg (the former of which, instead of
being tumid and red with gout, was white, and of
elegant shape, while the latter, which but the day
before had a calf to compare with any old Quaker's
in Arch-street, was now as lank as a sword-blade);
I say, these circumstances had the effect to increase
my confusion to that degree, that I felt like one
who is asleep and knows it—provided one ever
did or can feel so.

In the midst of all I suddenly cast my eyes upon
a goodly large looking-glass that hung against
the wall, and saw my reflection therein. It was
the image of Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins! his exact
representation, perfect in beard and visage, save
that the former was in great disorder, and the latter
somewhat white, and equally perfect in figure, as

[figure description] Page 134.[end figure description]

far as I could compare a man in buff and linen to
one in the full panoply of the tailor.

“My ged!” said I, “I am transformed again!”

And with that I made a hop up to the glass to
look at myself closer. There was no mistaking
the matter, even if the looking-glass had. I looked
at my legs, and I gave a tweak at my mustaches.
My shoulders were elegantly narrow, and my foot
as sound as a savage's. I jumped up, cut a pigeon-wing,
and then, descending, attempted a balletdancer's
pirouette; after which I looked again into
the glass. I was a young man of twenty-five, and
the most elegant fellow. I ever laid eyes on!

I ran to Jack, and hugged him round the neck,
crying, “Lard, Jack, you rogue, I'm the most comical
creature that ever lived!”

“Ay,” said he, smothering with laughter and my
embraces together; “but what made you drown
yourself?”

I recollected all about it, and suddenly felt astonished.
I remembered how I had jumped into
the water, and how I had fished myself out, as
dead as a poker; that is, how Mr. Higginson had
fished me, or rather how I had fished Mr. Dawkins.
I remembered how I, John Hazlewood Higginson,
had wished to be Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins, and now
I was Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins himself, and nobody
but he. I sat down on the bedside, marvelling how
such a thing could be; and the wonder of it was
indeed amazing. That my spirit should creep into
a man's body, though strange enough, was not so

[figure description] Page 135.[end figure description]

prodigiously surprising; but that my spirit and
body together (for I did not know it had been otherwise
disposed of), especially so corpulent a one
as John H. Higginson's, should get into one—that
was truly marvellous.

But my study was brought to an end by Tickle
suddenly exclaiming, with a voice of concern,
“Curse him! gad, poor fellow, I believe he has
washed his wits out! He has gone mad!”

“No more than you have,” said I, shaking him
by the hand; “but you must allow it is a most extraordinary
affair.”

“'Pon honour, yes,” said he, laughing as hard as
ever; “but what made you throw yourself into the
river?”

“Why,” said I, in a hurry, “to save Dawkins.”

“To save Dawkins!!!” said he, looking at me
as one would look at a shoemaker who brings a
pair of shoes home the day he has promised them.

“That is,” said I, “to save Higginson.”

“To save Higginson!!!” he cried, with such a
roar of laughter as made my teeth rattle; “why
there were twenty people saw Higginson drag you
out! I say, Dawky, no lillibullering—what did
you jump into the river for?”

“I jumped,” said I, quite in a quandary, “after
my hat.”

At this answer my friend Jack Tickle threw himself
upon the bed, where he rolled over and over,
until his coat was covered with down and feathers,
which cooled his transports a little.

[figure description] Page 136.[end figure description]

“I see,” said he, “I see! It was the last of the
family; for hatters' tick was exhausted! Right,
Dawky; in such straits of credit, I think I should
have jumped after mine! Who would not fight,
roast, or drown, for his hat, when it was the last
decent one he ever expected to have on his head?
I am glad this was the cause: it makes me think
better of you. I thought, like the rest, it was on
account of your disappointment from the adorable
Betty—”

“The devil take Betty!” said I, but without
well knowing why.

“He has!” cried Jack, uproariously; “at least a
poor devil has. She has thrown away her seventy
thousand upon a fellow no more to be compared
with you than a tame goose with a wild one: and
instead of spending it like a man, the rascal will
buy stocks, and save it. I say, Dawky, you must
have been surprised at her conduct—as we all
were;—really, we thought you had her; and there
was no one more certain than the fair Miss Smith.”

“The devil take the fair Miss Smith!” said I.

“He will,” said Tickle, shaking his head and
laughing; “or, if he don't, I don't know who will;
for it is a clear matter—dad's done up entirely, and
they say the sheriff is already making an inventory
of his chattels. A great pity, Dawky; for, if she
had but money, Miss Smith would be certainly
an angel incarnate—a nymph, a houri—the finest
woman in town. I say, Dawky, I think she almost
had you!”

p016-146

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