think _I_ have rather a
knack that way, and I'd like to know what to expect."

"No, her sort is the rappin' kind. Down yonder the only ghost I take
much stock in is old Bezee Tucker's. He killed himself in the back
bedroom, and some folks say they've heard him groanin' there nights, and
a drippin' sound; he bled to death, you know. It was kep' quiet at the
time, and is forgotten now by all but a few old chaps like me. Bezee was
allers civil to the ladies, so I guess he won't bother you, ma'am;" and
the old fellow laughed.

"If he does, I'll let you know;" and with that I departed, for my friend
called to me that the beach party was clamoring for our company.

In the delights of that festive hour, I forgot the croaking of the
ancient mariner, for I was about to taste a clam for the first time in
my life, and it was a most absorbing moment. Perched about on the rocks
like hungry penguins, we watched the jovial cooks with breathless
interest, as they struggled with refractory frying-pans, fish that
stubbornly refused to brown, steaming seaweed and hot stones.

A certain captivating little Margie waited upon me so prettily that I
should have been tempted to try a sea porcupine unskinned if she had
offered it, so irresistible was her chirping way of saying, "Oh, here's
a perfectly lovely one! Do take him by his little black head and eat him
quick."

So beguiled, I indulged recklessly in clams, served hot between two
shells, little dreaming what a price I was to pay for that marine
banquet.

We kept up till late, and then I was left at my own door by my friend,
who informed me that York was a very primitive, safe place, where people
slept with unlocked doors, and nothing ever went amiss o'nights.

I said nothing of the ghosts, being ashamed to own that I quaked a
little at the idea of the "back bedroom," as I shut out the friendly
faces and bolted myself in.

A lamp and matches stood in the hall, and lighting the lamp, I whisked
up stairs with suspicious rapidity, locked my door and retired to bed,
firmly refusing to own even to myself that I had ever heard the name of
Bezee Tucker.

Being very tired, I soon fell asleep; but fried potatoes and a dozen or
two of hot clams are not viands best fitted to insure quiet repose, so a
fit of nightmare brought me to a realizing sense of my indiscretion.

From a chaos of wild dreams was finally evolved a gigantic clam, whose
mission it was to devour me as I had devoured its