The beer-hall presented a brilliant appearance now, with all the lights flaming, with most of the chairs filled by merry young men, with three or four white-jacketed waiters flitting about, bearing high in air both hands full of foaming glasses--a fine contrast to the dingy, bare interior of the twilight, with only the solitary Owgoost. Above the ceaseless hum of conversation and laughter, rose, at intervals, the strains of lively music from the far-off piano, reinforced now by a harp and a flute. After a time cards were proposed, and Tom made one of a quartette who ranged themselves at the table. Seth could not play, and so moved his chair back, to watch the game. His cigar burned badly and he relighted it. Then it tasted bitter, and, after some hesitation, he threw it away. The game, called seven-up, was one he had never seen before; the ten-spots were invested with a fictitious value which puzzled him. Tom, over whose shoulder he watched had three of these tens, and silently indicated to Seth that they were of especial interest. Seth fixed his eyes upon them, to see how they were to be managed. They were very curious ten-spots, being made of beer-glasses running over with lambs-tongues, with lambs chasing them to rescue their lamented members, and burly “Bismarck” striving in vain to secure order. General Sigel came to help him, and Tom dealt him a terrific blow. Here _was_ a fight at last, and John Fairchild stood by, rapidly taking notes. Then it came bed-time, and--Seth was being shaken into sensibility by Tom, who said between fits of chuckling: “Wake up, old boy! Wake up!” Another great change had taken place in the beer-hall--the lights were out, the music had ceased, the crowd was gone. A solitary gas-jet flickered from the chandelier over the table; the game was ended, and the players were standing ready to depart, and laughing. Fat Bismarck stood behind him, in the half-shadow, looking very sleepy, and he seemed to be grinning too. Seth saw all this first. Then he discovered that he held his collar and necktie in his hand, and that his coat and waistcoat were on the table. He dimly began to understand that he had been asleep, and that, in the operation of his dream, he had commenced undressing. Everybody was laughing at him, his friend Tom, who now was helping him on with his coat, most heartily of all. “I declare,” Seth said, “I must have fallen asleep. I had no idea--I suppose I was dreaming of getting ready for bed.” “Oh, dots all right, dots all right,” said Bismarck heartily. “Ve don’d mind it a bit. You vas only dired owut.” “Yes, that’s it,” said Tom, “he’d had a hard day of it, traveling all the way from Thessaly. Are you ready? We’ll get the bag, and trot along home. Good night, boys!”