"Is this a joke?" I inquired, as I sat down to breakfast.
"Take his knife away, Georgina," said Aunt Julia; "cut up his bacon and let him eat it with a tea-spoon."
You can't eat fried bacon with a tea-spoon so as to enjoy it. I therefore protested against this interference with my convenience.
"I insist," said Uncle Sparrow, "on his knife being removed. John and James, sit one on each side of him and watch his movements very carefully. But be very careful not to wake him as that would be most dangerous. These trances usually last a week. John, feed him with a spoon. James, hold his tea-cup and give him a sip occasionally."
"Uncle," said I, "I beg—I beg that you will allow me to have my breakfast in peace. I had nothing to eat yesterday (having had a bilious headache), and I am literally starving."
"Now give him a bit of muffin," said Uncle Sparrow. "Now a spoonful of egg."
"Indeed, indeed, I am quite awake. I can feed myself. I want no assistance from anyone."
"Now a mouthful of tea—take care—its running down his waistcoat."
There was nothing for it but to submit to be fed by the hulking brothers.
I made several appeals to their intelligence, to their sense of humour, and to their feelings as human beings, but in vain. The only notice they took of my remarks was to direct each other's attention to the fact that I expressed myself quite coherently.
