It might be about eight o'clock in the morning when I was awakened by the entrance of the old man. "How have you rested?" said he, coming up to the bedside, and looking me in the face. "Well," said I, "and I feel much better, but I am still very sore." I surveyed him now for the first time with attention. He was dressed in a sober-coloured suit, and was apparently between sixty and seventy. In stature he was rather above the middle height, but with a slight stoop; his features were placid, and expressive of much benevolence, but, as it appeared to me, with rather a melancholy cast--as I gazed upon them, I felt ashamed that I should ever have conceived in my brain a vision like that of the preceding night, in which he appeared in so disadvantageous a light. At length he said, "It is now time for you to take some refreshment. I hear my old servant coming up with your breakfast." In a moment the elderly female entered with a tray, on which was some bread and butter, a teapot and cup. The cup was of common blue earthenware, but the pot was of china, curiously fashioned, and seemingly of great antiquity. The old man poured me out a cupful of tea, and then, with the assistance of the woman, raised me higher, and propped me up with the pillows. I ate and drank; when the pot was emptied of its liquid (it did not contain much), I raised it up with my left hand to inspect it. The sides were covered with curious characters, seemingly hieroglyphics. After surveying them for some time, I replaced it upon the tray. "You seem fond of china," said I, to the old man, after the servant had retired with the breakfast things, and I had returned to my former posture; "you have china on the mantelpiece, and that was a remarkable teapot out of which I have just been drinking." The old man fixed his eyes intently on me, and methought the expression of his countenance became yet more melancholy. "Yes," said he, at last, "I am fond of china--I have reason to be fond of china--but for china I should--" and here he sighed again. "You value it for the quaintness and singularity of its form," said I; "it appears to be less adapted for real use than our own pottery." "I care little about its form," said the old man; "I care for it simply on account of--however, why talk to you on the subject which can have no possible interest to you? I expect the surgeon here presently." "I do not like that surgeon at all," said I; "how strangely he behaved last night, coming back, when I was just falling asleep, to ask me if I would sell my horse." The old man smiled. "He has but one failing," said he, "an itch for horse-dealing; but for that he might be a much richer man than he is; he is continually buying and exchanging horses, and generally finds himself a loser by his bargains: but he is a worthy creature, and skilful in his profession--it is well for you that you are under his care."