TOM BROWN'S
CHAPTER VII
SETTLING TO THE COLLAR
"Says Giles, ''Tis mortal hard to go;
But if so be's I must,
I means to follow arter he
As goes hisself the fust.'"—Ballad.
VERYBODY, I suppose, knows the dreamy, delicious state in which one lies, half asleep, half awake, while consciousness begins to return, after a sound night's rest in a new place which we are glad to be in, following upon a day of unwonted excitement and exertion. There are few pleasanter pieces of life. The worst of it is that they last such a short time; for, nurse them as you will, by lying perfectly passive in mind and body, you can't make more than five minutes or so of them. After which time the stupid, obtrusive, wakeful entity which we call "I," as impatient as he is stiff-necked, spite of our teeth will force
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