He was a genteelly-dressed individual; rather corpulent, with dark features, and seemingly about forty-five.

He lay on his back, his hat slightly over his brow, and at his right hand lay an open book.

So strenuously did he snore that the wind from his nostrils agitated, perceptibly, a fine cambric frill which he wore at his bosom.

I gazed upon him for some time, expecting that he might awake; but he did not, but kept on snoring, his breast heaving convulsively.

At last, the noise he made became so terrible, that I felt alarmed for his safety, imagining that a fit might seize him, and he lose his life while fast asleep.