"
"A singular object to sup upon," observed Jack.
"'I wonder what the deuce will come next,' said Sam to himself,
throwing the skull amongst the rest of the bones.
"The next time, however, he took the gridiron off the fire, there was
his last rasher done to a turn.
"'Now,' said Sam, 'I am going to have peace and quietness at last.'
"He sat down then very comfortably, and kept eating and drinking, and
drinking and smoking, till the village clock struck twelve."
"Good!" cried Jack. "You may come in now, ladies and gentlemen; the
performance is just a-going to begin."
"Sam heard a succession of crack cracks amongst the bones, and turning
round he beheld a frightful-looking spectre, pointing with its finger
to the door."
"Was it wrapped up in a white sheet?" inquired Jack.
"Yes, I rather think it was."
"Very well, then, I believe the story; for spectres are invariably
wrapped up in white sheets."
"The bones, instead of remaining quietly piled up in the corner, had
joined themselves together--the leg bones to the feet, the ribs to the
back-bone--and the skull had stuck itself on the top. Where the flesh
came from, Sam could not tell; but he strongly suspected that his own
steaks and bacon had something to do with it. But, be that as it may,
there was not half enough of fat to cover the bones, and the figure
was dreadfully thin.
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