by the nose,
An' swung me up to the land,
An' I never went to sea again, as everybody knows,
And as everybody well may understand, 'derstand, 'derstand,
And as everybody well may understand.
Chorus.--Then the raging sea, etcetera.

The plaudits with which this song was received were, it need scarcely be
remarked, due more to the vigour of the chorus and the enthusiasm of the
audience than to intrinsic merit. Even Robin Wright was carried off his
legs for the moment, and, modest though he was, broke in at the chorus
with such effect--his voice being shrill and clear--that, he
unintentionally outyelled all the rest, and would have fled in
consternation from the saloon if he had not been caught and forcibly
detained by the sporting electrician, who demanded what right he had to
raise his steam-whistle in that fashion.

"But I say, young Wright," he added in a lower tone, leading our hero
aside, "what's this rumour I hear about a ghost in the steward's cabin?"

"Oh! it is nothing to speak of," replied Robin, with a laugh. "The lad
they call Stumps got a fright--that's all."

"But that's enough. Let us hear about it."

"Well, I suppose you know," said Robin, "that there's a ghost in the
Great Eastern."

"No, I don't know it from personal experience, but I have heard a report
to that effect."

"Well, I was down in Jim Slagg's berth, having a chat with him about the
nature of electric currents--for he has a very inquiring mind,--and
somehow we diverged to ghosts, and began to talk of the ghost of the
Great Eastern.

"`I don't believe in the Great Eastern ghost--no, nor in ghosts of any
kind,' said Stumps, who was sitting near us eating a bit of cheese.

"`But I believe in 'em,' said the boy Jeff, who was seated on the other
side of the table, and looked at us so earnestly that we could scarce
help smiling--though we didn't feel in a smiling humour at the time, for
it was getting dark, and we had got to talking in low tones and looking
anxiously over our shoulders, you know--

"`Oh yes, I know,' replied the sportsman, with a laugh; `I have
shuddered and grue-oo-ed many a time over ghost-stories. Well?'

"`_I_ don't believe in 'em, Jeff. Why do _you_?' asked Stumps, in a
scoffing tone.

"`Because I hear one every night a'most when I go down into the dark
places below to fetch things. There's one particular spot where the
ghost goes tap-tap-tapping continually.'

"`Fiddlededee,' said Stumps.

"