'He is sick, child, sure enough. Ho, ho! sir, you have taken drows; what, another throe! writhe, sir, writhe, the hog died by the drow of gipsies; I saw him stretched at evening. That's yourself, sir. There is no hope, sir, no help; you have taken drow. Shall I tell your fortune, sir--your dukkerin? God bless you, young gentleman, much trouble will you have to suffer, and much water to cross; but never mind, pretty gentleman, you shall be fortunate at the end, and those who hate shall take off their hats to you.' 'Hey, bebee!' cried the girl, 'what is this? what do you mean? you have blessed the gorgio!' 'Blessed him! no, sure; what did I say? Oh, I remember; I'm mad. Well, I can't help it; I said what the dukkerin dook told me. Woe's me! he'll get up yet.' 'Nonsense, bebee! look at his motions; he's drabbed, spite of dukkerin.' 'Don't say so, child; he's sick, 'tis true: but don't laugh at dukkerin; only folks do that that know no better; I, for one, will never laugh at the dukkerin dook. Sick again; I wish he was gone.' 'He'll soon be gone, bebee; let's leave him. He's as good as gone; look there--he's dead!' 'No, he's not; he'll get up--I feel it. Can't we hasten him?' 'Hasten him? yes, to be sure; set the dog upon him. Here, Juggal, look in there, my dog.' The dog made its appearance at the door of the tent, and began to bark and tear up the ground. 'At him, Juggal, at him; he wished to poison, to drab you. Halloo!' The dog barked violently, and seemed about to spring at my face, but retreated. 'The dog won't fly at him, child; he flashed at the dog with his eye, and scared him. He'll get up.' 'Nonsense, bebee! you make me angry. How should he get up?' 'The dook tells me so; and what's more, I had a dream.'" But the gentle Leonora--which was the name of the girl--has a strong tendency towards the practical. She would have been an invaluable assistant at the inn of Terracina--which hostelry the dramatic writers of the Surrey side used to select as the scene of their most appalling tragedies; representing the landlord as an unhappy misanthrope, who could never sleep unless he had poniarded his man; and the head-waiter as a merry creature, who wore two brace of stilettoes in his girdle, and lurked at the bottom of the pit, to receive the visitors when the bed tumbled through the trap-door. Miss Leonora, we say, becomes impatient at the exceeding dilatoriness of Lavengro in giving up the ghost, and entreats her bebee, notwithstanding the dukkerin, to finish him at once by poking her stick into his eye! The venerable descendant of the hairy ones attempts to carry this humane advice into effect, but, at the second lounge, the pole of the tent gives way, and she is sent sprawling under the canvass.