[_The umbrella-handle is applied to Mr. M., a feeble-looking little man with a sandy top-knot; he grovels after the silver-top when it is depressed, and makes futile attempts to clamber up the umbrella after it when it is held aloft._ _Mrs. M._ (_severely_). I haven't patience to look at him. A _Kitten_ 'ud have had more sense! _The Hyp._ (_calling up one of the heavy youths_). Can you whistle, Sir? Yes? Then whistle something. (_The Youth whistles a popular air in a lugubrious tone._) Now you _can't_ whistle--try. (_The Youth tries--and produces nothing but a close imitation of an air-cushion that is being unscrewed._) Now, if I were not to wake him up, this young gentleman's friends would never enjoy the benefit of his whistle again! _Voice from a Back Row_. _Don't_ wake him, Guv'nor, we can _bear_ it! _Hyp._ (_after restoring the lost talent, and calling up another Youth, somewhat smartly attired_). Now, Sir, what do you drink? _The Youth_ (_with a sleepy candour_). Beer when I can get 'old of it. _A Friend of his in Audience_. JIM's 'aving a lark with him--he said as 'ow he meant to kid him like--_he_ ain't 'ipnotised, bless yer! _Hyp._ But you like water, too, don't you? (_JIM admits this--in moderation._) Try this. (_He gives him a tumbler of water._) Is that good water? _Jim_ (_smacking his lips_). That's good water enough, Sir. _Hyp._ It's bad water--taste it again. [_JIM tastes, and ejects it with every symptom of extreme disapproval._ _Jim's Friend_. Try him with a drop o' Scotch in it--_'e'll_ get it down! _Hyp._ (_to JIM_). There is _no_ water in that glass--it's full of sovereigns, don't you see? (_JIM agrees that this is so, and testifies to his conviction by promptly emptying the contents of the glass into his trousers' pocket_) What have you got in your pocket? _Jim_ (_chuckling with satisfaction_). Quids--golden sovereigns! _Hyp._ Wake up! _Now_ what do you find in your pocket--any sovereigns? _Jim_ (_surprised_). Sovereigns? No, Sir! (_After putting his hand in his pocket, bringing it out dripping, and dolefully regarding the stream of water issuing from his leg_.) More like water, Sir. [_He makes dismal efforts to dry himself, amidst roars of laughter._ _His Friend_. Old JIM didn't come best out o' that! _Hyp._ (_to JIM_). You don't feel comfortable? (_Emphatic assent from_ JIM.) Yes, you do, you feel no discomfort whatever. [_JIM resumes his seat with a satisfied expression._ _An Open-minded Spect._ Mind yer, if this yere 'Ipnotism can prevent water from being wet, there must be _something_ in it! _Hyp._ I will now give you an illustration of the manner in which, by hypnotic influence, a subject can_ be affected with an entirely imaginary pain. Take this gentleman. (_Indicating the unfortunate Mr. MIDGELLY, who is slumbering peacefully._) Now, what pain shall we give him? _A Voice_. Stomach-ache!