"You must go and give him a little shake," said Humphrey.
Miles advanced timidly. He didn't much like the job, but disobedience to Humphrey was a thing he never dreamt of.
Humphrey hid the trumpet behind him, and waited eagerly.
Miles's gentle shake produced no effect at all; Dyson only smiled pleasantly in his sleep.
"Shake his hand," said Humphrey.
Miles looked doubtfully at the horny hand lying on the arm of the chair, and flushed a little as he put his tiny fingers upon it. But the old man did not move.
"Harder!" cried Humphrey.
Miles exerted himself to the utmost, and succeeded better, for the old man turned over to one side of his chair, and lifted his head a little.
Miles retreated a few steps. But it was a false alarm, for old Dyson's head fell forward again.
"You must jump on his knee, Miles."