Childhood should be fun. Don't let bed wetting spoil that. Dry nights give maximum protection.

So kids can go to bed where we free. Have a dry night sleep. And wake up awesome.

Days start with dry nights. Search dry nights for a free sample. Hey. My name is Otis Gray and you're listening to Sleepy.

Podcasts where I read old books to help you get to sleep and a proud member of the Airwave podcast network.

I have got a wonderful snoozy bedtime story for you tonight. But before we get to tonight's reading, I just want to thank all of our patrons on patreon.com.

And as always, the music that you're hearing is by my good friend James Lepkowski. This is our second reading in October.

I feel it's probably a good idea to keep going with these spooky stories. So tonight, I'm going to read a book that I remember reading as a kid.

It took me a while to get through, but it was a really, really amazing story. It's Frankenstein by Mary Shelley.

So now getting to your bed lay your head back, fluff up your pillow just how you like it. Slowly just melding to your bed, close your eyes, and let me read to you.

I am by birth the Genives. And my family is one of the most distinguished of that Republic. My ancestors have been for many years, counselors and syndics. And my father had filled several public situations with honor and reputations.

He was respected by all on New Year's, for his integrity and indefatigable attention to public business. He passed his younger days perpetually occupied by the affairs of his country. A variety of circumstances had prevented his marrying early.

Nor was it until the decline of life that he became a husband and the father of a family.

As the circumstances of his marriage, history, his character, I cannot refrain from relating them. One of his most intimate friends was a merchant who from a flourishing stay fell through numerous mischances and a poverty.

This man, whose name was Beaufort, was of a proud and unbending disposition, and cannot bear to live in his poverty and oblivion in the same country where he had formerly been distinguished for his rank and magnificence.

Having paid his debts, therefore, in the most honorable manner, he retreated with his daughter to the town of Lucerne, where he lived unknown and wretchedness.

My father loved Beaufort, with the truest friendship, and was deeply grieved by his retreat in these unfortunate circumstances.

He bitterly deplored the false pride which led his friend to a conduct so little worthy of the affection that united them.

He lost no time endeavoring to seek him out, with the hope of persuading him to begin the world again through his credit and assistance.

Beaufort had taken effectual measures to conceal himself, and I was ten months before my father discovered his abode.

Overjoyed of this discovery, he hastened to the house, which was situated in a mean street near the roof.

But when he entered, misery and despair alone welcomed him.

Beaufort had saved but a very small sum of money from the wreck of his fortunes, but it was sufficient to provide him with the sustenance for some months, and in the mean time he hoped to procure some respectable employment in a merchant's house.

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