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by whom he might be watched; but his anxiety to conceal it from his aunt, whose mind he well knew would be for ever after filled with apprehension, induced him eventually to decide on endeavouring to prove it himself.

He therefore set to work and conceived various schemes, the operation of which were in his view calculated to prove the thing beyond all doubt, and having decided at length upon one which appeared to be the easiest and also the best, he, on retiring that night about ten, attached to one of his ancles a string, which communicated with a bell which he ingeniously hung, so that it would of necessity ring in the event of his getting out of bed, and at the same time prevent him from leaving the room.

Having artfully adjusted this machinery to his entire satisfaction he went to sleep, and as his thoughts soon afterwards reverted to the "ghost," which he then felt an extremely strong desire to see, he with great deliberation removed the string from his ancle, rose, dressed himself, and left the house.

For some time he walked leisurely up and down the road in the full expectation of seeing this spectre, but as in this he was, as a matter of course, disappointed, he, perceiving a light at the Crumpet and Crown, and hearing voices within, at length went to the door.

That night Mrs. Legge, who had been having some more private brandy-and-water, would have the door bolted, and Sylvester in consequence could not get in. He therefore knocked, and immediately heard such a hissing as that which might proceed from a dozen young serpents anxious to cry simultaneously "Hush!"

"There it is!" said Pokey.

"That's it!" exclaimed Obadiah.

"It's the same knock," observed Quocks.

"Exactly!" cried Legge. "Now then, what's to be done? Shall I open the door?"

"I'll have no ghost in this house to-night, if I know it," said Mrs. Legge, pointedly; "not if I know it."

"Go to bed, my dear," observed Legge; "go to bed."

"I shan't go to bed! you're a rogue to me, Legge, you know you are."

"Hark!" cried Legge, who had been so used to these affectionate observations that they really passed by him as the "idle wind." "Did you hear?"

"What!" exclaimed Pokey.

"A groan. Shall I open the door? Will you back me?"

"I will," replied Quocks, "at all events."

"Then the door shall be opened."

"Don't!" cried Pokey. "Don't! pray don't!"

Legge rose; but Mrs. Legge on the instant threw her arms round his neck, and cleverly burst into tears!

Legge couldn't stand this. He could, as well as any man in England; stand any given quantity of abuse, but all was over the very moment he saw a tear. Mrs. Legge knew this—of course she knew it—she hadn't