arly as terrified as herself, with her hands raised, her tongue
clinging to the roof of her mouth, and the perspiration falling from her
pale face in large drops. But as soon as she saw him swallow a portion
of that liquid, which she deemed beyond the deglutition of ghost
or devil, she instantly revived--her tongue resumed its accustomed
office--her courage, as well as her good-humor, returned, and she went
up to him with great confidence, saying,

"Why, then, your Reverence's honor, maybe I did make a bit of a mistake,
sir"--taking up the jug, and tasting its contents: "Hut! bad scran to
me, but I did, beggin' your honor's pardon; how-an-diver, I'll soon
rightify that, your Reverence."

So saying, she went and brought him a pint of the stoutest the house
afforded. The stranger drank a glass of it, and then ordered hot water
and sugar, adding--

"My honest friends here about the fire will have no objection to help me
with this; but, on second consideration, you had better get us another
quart, that as the night is cold, we may have a jorum at this pleasant
fire, that will do our hearts good; and this pretty girl here,"
addressing Biddy, who really deserved the epithet, "will sit beside me,
and give us a song."

It was surprising what an effect the punch even in perspective, had upon
the visual organs of the company; second-sight was rather its precursor
than its attendant; for, with intuitive penetration, they now discovered
various good qualities in his ghost-ship, that had hitherto been beyond
their ken; and those very personal properties, which before struck them
dumb with terror, already called forth their applause.

"What a fine man he is!" one would whisper, loud enough, however, to be
heard by the object of his panegyric.

"He is, indeed, and a rale gintleman," another would respond in the same
key.

"Hut! he's none of your proud, stingy upsthart bodagahs*--none of your
beggarly half-sirs*," a third would remark: "he's the dacent thing
entirely--you see he hasn't his heart in a thrifle."

* A person vulgar, but rich, without any pretensions but
those of wealth to the character of a gentleman; a churl.
Half-sir; the same as above.

"And so sign's on him," a fourth would add, with comic gravity, "he
wasn't bred to shabbiness, as you may know by his fine behavior and his
big whiskers."

When the punch was made, and the kitchen-table placed endwise towards
the fire, the stranger, finding h