“‘Ten thousand What’s-a-names,’ cried Sam, ‘where’s my steak?’

“No answer was vouchsafed to this query; he looked up the chimney, and could see no one.”

“The steak had really disappeared then?” said Jack, inquiringly.

“Yes, not a fragment remained; but he had more beef, so he cut off another; and, as his head had got a little middled with the grog, he thought it just possible that he might have capsized the gridiron into the fire, so he quietly recommenced the operation.”

“And the second steak disappeared like the first?” “Yes, Master Fritz, with this difference—­there was a dead man’s thigh-bone in its place.”

“An awkward transformation for a hungry man,” said Jack.

“‘Here’s a go!’ cried Sam, like to burst his sides with laughing, ’they expect to frighten me with bones, do they? they’ve got the wrong man—­been played too many tricks of that kind at sea to be scared by that sort of thing.  Ha, ha, ha! capital joke though.’”

“Your friend Sam must have been a merry fellow, Willis.”

“Yes, but he was hungry, and wanted his supper; so he continued supplying the gridiron with steaks as long as the beef lasted, but only obtained human shin-bones, clavicles and tibias.

“‘Never mind,’ said Sam to himself, ’they will tire of this game in course of time.’

“When the beef was done, he kept up a supply of rashers of bacon, and threw the bones as they appeared in a corner, consoling himself in the meantime with his pipe and his grog.”

“He must have been both patient and persevering,” remarked Jack.

“This went on till a skull appeared on the gridiron.”

“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.”