believe anything in the ghost line.

It was past twelve when a couple o' pals brought him 'ome, and, arter
offering to fight all six of 'em, one after the other, Bill hit the wall
for getting in 'is way, and tumbled upstairs to bed. In less than ten
minutes 'e was fast asleep, and pore Mrs. Burtenshaw, arter trying her
best to keep awake, fell asleep too.

She was woke up suddenly by a noise that froze the marrer in 'er bones--
the most 'art-rending groan she 'ad ever heard in 'er life; and, raising
her 'ead, she saw Silas Winch standing at the foot of the bed. He 'ad
done his face and hands over with wot is called loominous paint, his cap
was pushed at the back of his 'ead, and wet wisps of 'air was hanging
over his eyes. For a moment Mrs. Burtenshaw's 'art stood still and then
Silas let off another groan that put her on edge all over. It was a
groan that seemed to come from nothing a'most until it spread into a roar
that made the room tremble and rattled the jug in the wash-stand basin.
It shook everything in the room but Bill, and he went on sleeping like an
infant. Silas did two more groans, and then 'e leaned over the foot o'
the bed, and stared at Bill, as though 'e couldn't believe his eyesight.

[Illustration: "She saw Silas Winch standing at the foot of the bed."]

"Try a squeaky one," ses Mrs. Burtenshaw.

Silas tried five squeaky ones, and then he 'ad a fit o' coughing that
would ha' woke the dead, as they say, but it didn't wake Bill.

"Now some more deep ones," ses Mrs. Burtenshaw, in a w'isper.