Elbow-Room | Page 5

it with extraordinary violence; after which
he walked up the street with gloom in his soul and a wretched feeling
of apprehension that the baby would never waken.
"What on earth would we do if it should stay asleep for years? S'pose'n
it should sleep right straight ahead for half a century, and grow to be an
old man without knowing its pa and ma, and without ever learning
anything or seeing anything!"
The thought maddened him. He remembered Rip Van Winkle; he
recalled the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus; he thought of the afflicted
woman whom he saw once at a menagerie in a trance, in which she had

been for twenty years continuously, excepting when she awoke for a
few moments at long intervals to ask for something to eat. Perhaps
when he and Mrs. Fogg were dead the baby might be rented to a
menagerie, and be carried around the country as a spectacle. The idea
haunted him. It made him miserable. He tried for two or three hours to
fix his mind upon his office-duties, but it was impossible. He
determined to go back to the house to ascertain if the baby had returned
to consciousness. When he got there, Mrs. Fogg was beginning to feel
very uneasy. She said,
"Isn't it strange, Wilberforce, that the baby stays asleep? He is not
awake yet. I suppose it is nervous exhaustion, poor darling! but I am a
little worried about it."
Mr. Fogg felt awfully. He went up and jagged a pin into the baby's leg
quietly, so that his wife could not see him. Still it lay there wrapped in
slumber; and after repeating the experiment he abandoned himself to
despair and went back to his office, uncertain whether to fly or to go
home and confess the terrible truth to Mrs. Fogg.
In a couple of hours that lovely woman came in to see him. She was
scared and breathless:
"Mr. Fogg, the baby is actually asleep yet, and I can't rouse him. I've
shaken him, called to him and done everything, and he don't stir. What
can be the matter with him? I'm afraid something dreadful has
happened to him."
"Maybe he is sleeping up a lot ahead, so's to stay awake at night some
more," said Mr. Fogg, with a feeble smile at his attempt at a joke.
"Wilberforce, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to trifle with such a
matter! S'pose the baby should die while it is in that condition? I
believe it is going to die, and I want you to go straight for the doctor."
Mr. Fogg started at once, and in half an hour he reached the house in
company with Dr. Gill. The doctor examined the child carefully and
said that it was a very queer case, but that, in his opinion, he must be

under the influence of opium.
"Did you give him any while I was asleep last night, Mr. Fogg?" asked
Mrs. Fogg, suspiciously and tearfully.
"Upon my word and honor I didn't," said Mr. Fogg, with the cold
perspiration standing upon his forehead.
"Are you sure you didn't give him _anything_?" demanded the mother,
suddenly remembering that the baby became quiet while she was down
stairs upon the preceding night.
"Maria, do you think I would deceive you?" asked Mr. Fogg, in agony.
"I'll take my solemn oath that I did not give it a drop of medicine of any
kind."
"It is very remarkable--very," said the doctor. "I don't know that I ever
encountered precisely such a case before. I think I will call in Dr.
Brown and consult with him about it."
Then Mrs. Fogg began to sob; and while she fondled the baby, Mr.
Fogg, feeling like a murderer, followed the doctor down stairs. When
they reached the hall, Mr. Fogg drew the doctor aside and said, in a
confidential whisper:
"Doctor, I am going to tell you something, but I want you to promise
solemnly that you will keep it a secret."
"Very well; what is it?"
"You won't tell Mrs. Fogg?"
"No."
"Well, doctor, I--I--I--know what is the matter with that baby."
"You do! you know! Well, why didn't you--What is the matter with it?"
"The fact is, I mesmerized it last night."

"You did! Mesmerized it! And why don't you rouse it up again?"
"I don't know how; that's the mischief of it. I did it accidentally, you
know. I was sort of fingering around the child's forehead, and all of a
sudden it stopped crying and dropped off. Can't you find me a
professional mesmerizer to come and undo the baby?"
"I don't believe I can. The only one I know of lives in San Francisco,
and he couldn't get here in less than a week even if we