Premise: Ever and again he would be seized with a fit of deadly shuddering and groan aloud , and carrying the bottle to his lips , drink down the raw spirits by the mouthful .<br>I stepped forward , came close behind him where he sat , and suddenly clapping my two hands down upon his shoulders -- `` Ah ! ''<br>cried I. My uncle gave a kind of broken cry like a sheep 's bleat , flung up his arms , and tumbled to the floor like a dead man .<br>I was somewhat shocked at this ; but I had myself to look to first of all , and did not hesitate to let him lie as he had fallen .
Hypothesis: My uncle drank wine by the mouthful.