"We can't do what he says in this book," said Joshua, drumming with his fingers on the "Philosophy of Dreams." "I don't know. Why should he write all that unless he knew something? There is no harm in trying, at all events. Let me see. Here is a chart of a head, Jo turning to a diagram in the book. Where is combativeness? Oh! here, at the back of the head, behind the ear. Can you feel it, Jo? Is it a large bump? No; you are going too high up, I am sure. Now you are too much in the middle. Ah! that's the place, I think." These last sentences referred to Joshua's attempt to find Dan's organ of combativeness. "I don't feel any thing particular, Dan," he said. "But you feel something, don't you, Jo?" asked Dan anxiously. "There _is_ a bump there, isn't there?" "A very little one," answered Joshua, earnestly manipulating Dan's head, and pressing the bump. "Do you feel spiteful?" "No," said Dan, laughing. "There's a bump twice as large just above your fighting one." "What is that bump?" said Dan, examining the diagram again. "Ah that must be adhesiveness." "I don't know what that means." "Give me the dictionary;" and Dan with eager fingers turned over the pages of an old Walker's Dictionary. "'Adhesive--sticking, tenacious,'" he read. "That is, that I stick to a thing, as I mean to do to this. Now I'll tell you what we'll do, Jo. I shall sleep at your house to-morrow night, and when I am asleep, you shall press my organ of combativeness--put your fingers on it--yes, there; and when I wake I will tell you what I have dreamed of." "All right," said Joshua, removing his fingers. "You will be able to find the place again?" "Yes, Dan." "And you will be sure to keep awake?" "Sure, Dan." The following night, Joshua waited very patiently until Dan was asleep. He had to wait a long time; for Dan, in consequence of his anxiety, was longer than usual getting to sleep. Once or twice Joshua thought that his friend was in the Land of Nod, and he commenced operations, but he was interrupted by Dan saying drowsily, "I am not asleep yet, Jo." At length Dan really went off, and then Joshua, very quietly and with great care, felt for Dan's organ of combativeness, and pressed it. Joshua looked at his sleeping friend with anxiety. "Perhaps he will hit out at me," he thought. But Dan lay perfectly still, and Joshua, after waiting and watching in vain for some indication of the nature of Dan's sleeping fancies, began to feel very sleepy himself, and went to bed. In the morning, when they were both awake, Joshua asked what Dan had dreamed of. "I can't remember," said Dan, rubbing his eyes. "I pressed your combativeness for a long time, Dan," said Joshua; "and I pressed it so hard that I was almost afraid you would hit out." "I didn't, did I?" "No; you were as still as a mouse."