Book 1 — CHAPTER I.

CONTAINING AN INKLING OF THE LIFE AND HABITS OF MR. ARTHUR MEGRIM.

Having been carried from the scene of my late transformation, as I mentioned before, physicked, put to bed, and allowed to sleep off my troubles, I awoke late on the following morning, feeling very comfortable, notwithstanding the bruises on my ribs, and with an uncommonly agreeable, though lazy sense of the enjoyment of lying a-bed. Indeed, this was my only feeling. I woke to a consciousness, though a vague one, of the change in my condition; and this, together with what I saw around me, when I had succeeded, after some effort, in getting my eyes a little opened, it may be supposed, would have filled me with surprise, and excited in me a great curiosity to inquire into matters relating to Mr. Arthur Megrim.

Such, however, was not the case. I looked upon the elegantly-adorned chamber in which I lay, and the sumptuous robes of my bed, with as much indifference, as if I had been accustomed to them all my life; and as for the happy destiny that now seemed opening upon me, I scarce thought on it at all.

Nor can I say that I felt in any way elated at my fortunate escape from the hangman and the anatomists. I remembered that affair with a drowsy indifference as being a matter of no further consequence to me; and as for Mr. Arthur Megrim's friends and kinsmen, his interests and relations in life, I thought to myself, with a yawn, "I shall know them all in good time."

I was content to take things as they might come, and eschew labours of mind as well as efforts of body. Curiosity, I felt, was a tumultuous passion, and I therefore resolved to avoid it. In this mood I turned over on the other side, and took a second nap.

From this I was roused, after a time, by some one tugging at my shoulder, who proved, upon examination, to be a very elegant-looking mulatto-boy—that is, a boy of twenty-five years or thereabouts—who signified, in language as genteel as his person, that it was exactly half past eleven o'clock, and therefore time for me to get up.

"Augh—well!" said I, taking about thirty seconds to gape out each word, it seemed such tiresome work to articulate; "what do you want?"

"Want you to get up, sah. Missie Ann says it does you no good to sleep so long."

"Augh—who is Missie Ann?"

"Lar bless us," said the gentleman, turning up the white of his eye, "Missie Ann is massa's sister!"

"Who is massa?"

"You, massa—Massa Arthur!"

"Augh—well; and who are you?"

"'Paminondas, massa. Coat very nicely brushed; very fine day; will do you good, sah, to get up and taste the air. Regular Indian summer, sah."

"You may go to the devil."

"Yes, sah."

With that I turned over for another nap, which I should undoubtedly have taken, had I not been interrupted, just as I was falling asleep, by the entrance of a lady of a somewhat starched and venerable appearance, though not more than six or seven years older than myself, I being perhaps twenty-five or six.

"A'n't you ashamed of yourself, Arthur!" said she. "Do tell me—do you intend to lie a-bed for ever?"

"Augh—pshaw!" said I. "Pray, madam, be so good as to inform me who you are, and—augh—what you want in my chamber?"

"Come," said the lady, "don't be ridiculous, and fall into any of your hyppoes again. Don't pretend you don't know your own sister, Ann Megrim."

"I won't," said I; "but—augh—sister, if you have no objection, I should like—augh—to sleep till dinner is ready."

"Dinner!" screamed my sister, Ann Megrim; "don't suppose you will ever be able to eat a dinner again. You know the doctor says it is your hard eating and your laziness together that have destroyed your digestive apparatus; and that, if you don't adhere to the bran bread and hickory ashes tea, you'll never be cured in the world."

"What!" said I, "am I sick?"

"Undoubtedly," said my sister Ann; "your digestive apparatus is all destroyed, and your nerves too. Did not you faint last night when they were galvanizing the bodies? Have you not lost all muscular power, so that you do nothing but lie on a bed or sofa all day long? Oh, really, brother Arthur Megrim, I am ashamed of you. A man like you—a young man and a rich man, a man of family and genius, a gentleman and a scholar, a man who might make himself governor of the state, or president of the nation, or any thing—yet to be nothing at all except the laziest man in Virginia, a man with no digestive apparatus, a poor nervous hyppo—oh, it is too bad! Do get up and stir yourself. Mount your horse, or go out in the carriage. Exercise, you know, is the only thing to restore strength to the digestive apparatus."

"Sister Ann," said I, "the more you speak of my digestive apparatus, the more—augh—the more I am convinced you don't know what you are talking about. I am resolved to get up and eat my dinner—"

"Of bran bread and hickory ashes," said my sister.

"Of canvass-back ducks and terapins," said I. At which Miss Ann Megrim expressed terror and aversion, and endeavoured to convince me that such indulgence would be punished by a horrible indigestion, as had been the case a thousand times before.

But cogent as were her arguments, I had, or felt, one still stronger on my side, being a savage appetite, which was waking within that very digestive apparatus she held in such disesteem, and which became the more eager the more she besought me to resist it.

The discussion was so far advantageous that it set me wide awake; and by-and-by, the zealous Epaminondas having made his second appearance, I succeeded, with his assistance, in getting on my clothes and descending to the dining-room, where, to the great horror and grief of my affectionate relative, I demolished two ducks and a half (being the true canvass-backs, or white-backs, as they call them in that country), and a full grown tortoise, of the genus emys, and species palustris. And in this operation, I may say, I found the first excitement of pleasure which I had yet known in my new body, and displayed an energy of application of which I did not before know that I was capable. Nor am I certain that any ill consequences followed the meal. I felt, indeed, a strong propensity to throw myself on a sofa and recruit after the labours of eating; but this Miss Megrim resisted, insisting I should get into my carriage (for it seems I had one, and a very handsome one too), and drive about to avoid a surfeit.

In this I consented to gratify her wishes, whereby I gratified one of my own; for I fell sound asleep within five minutes after starting, and so remained until the excursion was over.

Then, being as hungry as ever, and not knowing what else to do, I picked my teeth over a newspaper, and nodded at a novel until supper was got ready, which (disregarding Miss Megrim's exhortations, as before) I attacked with the good-will I had carried to my dinner, eating on this occasion two terapins and a half and one whole duck, of the genus anas, and species vallisneria.[1]

The only ill consequences were, that I dreamed of the devil and his imps all night, and that I awoke in a crusty humour next morning.