Falling asleep..Apparently a fail? Mr. Unicorn, of uniland, had a fit of sleeplessness one night ago, and after deeply struggleing to lose himself in slumber, he happened to remember that he once read in an almanac that a man could put himself to sleep by imagining that he saw a flock of sheep jumping over a fence, and by counting them as they jumped. He determined to try the new experiment, and found himself closing his eyes, he fancied the sheep jumping, and began to count. 1...2..3... Soon he had reached his hundred and fortieth sheep, and was beginning to doze offinto slumber, when Mrs. Unicorn suddenly said: “Hooves!” “Oh, what?” “I believe that yellow hen wants to set and raise a brood.” “Oh, don’t bother me with such nonsense as that now. Do keep quiet and go to sleep.” Then Mr.unicorn commenced to count again. He got up to one hundred and twenty five, and was feeling as if he would drop off into the land of dreams at any moment, and just as his hundred and twenty-sixth sheep was about to leap that fence, one of the terrible twins began to cry a fit. “Shoot that child!” he shouted at Mrs. Unicorn. “Why can’t you tend to it and put it to sleep? Hush up, you little troll, or I’ll spank you to china!” When Mrs. Unicorn had quieted the child, Mr. Unicorn, although a little nervous and excited, was determined to try it again. Turning on the imaginary button of sleep he began. Only sixty-four sheep had slid over the fence when Ms. Unicorns’s mother-in-law knocked on the door and asked if her husband was awake. When she learned that he was she said she believed he had forgotten to close the back shutters, and she thought she heard burglars in the yard. Mr. Unicorn arose in fury and went down to see about it. He proclaimed that the shutters were closed as usual, and as he returned to bed unstressed that Mrs. Unicorn's mother would leave the house for good in the morning, or he would. However, he thought he might as well give the almanac plan a fair trial, and setting the sheep in motion he began to count. This time he reached two hundred and forty, and would probably have gotten to sleep before the three hundredth sheep jumped, had not Their neighbors new dog in the next yard become suddenly homesick, and began to express his feelings in a series of prolonged and exasperating howls. Mr. Unicorn was indignant. Neglecting the sheep, he leaped from bed, and began to bombard The Neightbors new dog with boots, soap-cups, and every loose object he could lay his hands on. He impressed the animal at last with a plaster bust of Daniel Webster, and induced the dog to retreat to the stable and think all about home in silence. It seemed almost ridiculous to resume those sheep again, but he concluded to give the almanac man one more chance, and so as they began to jump the fence he began to count, and after seeing the eighty-second safely over, he was gliding gently into the land of dreams, when Mrs. Unicorn rolled out of bed and fell on the floor with such violence that she waked the twins and started them crying, while Mrs. Unicorn's mother-in-law came down-stairs, four steps at a time, to ask if they felt that earthquake. The situation was too awful for words. Mr. Unicorn regarded it for a minute with speechless indignation, and then seizing a pillow he went over to the sofa in the back sitting–room and lay down on the lounge. He fell asleep in ten minutes without the assistance of the almanac, but he dreamed all night that he was being butted around the equator by a Cotswold ram, and he awoke in the morning with a sore back and a terrible headache and a conviction that sheep are good enough for wool and chops, but not worth a cent as a narcotic.