Give us a shake of your paw, my hearty.' "Here Sam, somehow or other, stumbled over the lamp, and when he got up again the spectre had vanished.

He laid hold of the chest, however, and groped his way back to the mill.

When safe inside, he made a stiff jorum of grog, and then fell comfortably asleep.

That night he dreamt that he was eating gold and silver, that he was his own captain, that the cat-o'-nine tails was entirely abolished in the navy, and that his ship, instead of sailing in salt water was floating in rum.

When he awoke, the sun was steaming through all the nooks and crannies of the old mill.