just as we ended a game, and when we were listening if a boat was
coming, before beginning another, we heard the Yarmouth clocks ring
twelve.

'Put up the cards,' says Lawrence; 'I'll not play more.'

'Why not?' says I.

'Because,' says he, and he stammered a little--'because it's Sunday.'

Well, mates, I had forgotten all my notions of that kind, and so I
laughed at him. But it was no use.

'Them,' says he, 'that plays cards on a Sunday, runs a double chance
of death on Monday.'

His mother had told him this, and so he refused out-and-out to go on.
'Well,' says I, 'I aint afraid, and I'd play if I had a partner.'

Mates! the cards were lying in a pack, and the words were hardly out
of my mouth, before they slipped down, and spread themselves out upon
the table! Lawrence gave a loud screech, and jumped up. 'Oh!' says he,
'it's the Old Un with us in the cabin!' and up the companion he
tumbled, and I at his heels; and rushed for'ard as hard as we could
pelt, and cuddled under the foresail--which was lying on the deck--all
trembling and shaking, and our teeth chattering.

'I told you what it would be,' says Lawrence.

'I'll never play cards again,' says I, 'on a Sunday!'