But no answer came, so rising with a rashness most surprising, “Sir,” said I, “or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, when I heard some liquid lapping, Lapping, lapping, softly lapping, in behind this chamber-door. Who are you in there, I pray you?”――here I opened wide the door―― Smell of spirits, nothing more! Deeply that strong odour sniffing stood I “butting” there and “if-ing;” Guessing, wondering, surmising who it was that I’d heard pour. Still the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token; But a bottle brandy-soaken I remarked upon the floor. This I noticed, black and empty, lying there upon the floor―― Merely that, and nothing more! From the chamber I was turning, all my soul within me yearning For a little cup of cognac: since my chilblains were so sore―― When I heard a sound of rustling, as of some stout woman bustling―― “Ah,” said I, “this chamber’s mystery I will linger and explore―― Stay will I another minute and its mystery explore―― Why I heard that brandy pour?” Opened here a folding-door was; and in a few seconds more was A full stout and snuffy matron coming towards me o’er the floor; Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she, But upon a chair down sitting, beckoned me to what she bore: ’Twas a tiny roll of flannel in her portly arms she bore―― Only that, and nothing more! Then this flannel roll beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the strange and utter contrast that it to the matron bore, Sought my thoughts another channel, and I spoke unto the flannel, Saying, “What art thou and wherefore art thou brought here, I implore?―― Tell me why thou art thus carried, why so gently, I implore?” But it sobbed, and nothing more! Much I marvelled at its sobbing, and my heart was quickly throbbing As unto the ponderous matron said I, ‘Turn that flannel o’er!’ For you cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet beheld a bundle that could sob, and nothing more―― Ever yet a roll of flannel saw that sobbed and nothing more!” Quoth the matron, “Shut the door.” Then the flannel pink unfolding, soon was I with awe beholding Something like to which my eyes had never gazed upon before. Nothing further then it uttered――but I mouthed awhile and stuttered Till I positively muttered, “Tell me all, I would implore!” Said the matron, “There is little to inform you on that score: ’Tis your son, and nothing more!”