58 MARTIN RATTLER.

its cold form writhing under his foot, than he uttered
a tremendous yell of terror, dropped his bundle of
sticks, and fled precipitately to the beach, where he
did not halt till he found himself knee-deep in the sea.

“Och, Martin, boy,” gasped the affrighted sailor,
“it’s my belafe that all the evil spirits on arth live in
yonder wood ; indeed I do.”

“ Nonsense, Barney,” said Martin, laughing ; “there
are no such things as ghosts; at any rate I’m resolved
to face them, for if we don’t get some sticks the fire
will go out and leave us very comfortless. Come;
Til go up with you.”

“Put on yer shoes then, avic, for the sarpints are
no ghosts, anyhow, and I’m tould they're pisonous
sometimes.”

They soon found the bundle of dry sticks that
Barney had thrown down, and returning with it to
the beach, they speedily kindled a roaring fire, which
made them feel quite cheerful. True, they had noth-
ing to eat; but having had a good dinner on board
the barque late that afternoon, they were not much
in want of food. While they sat thus on the sand of
the sea-shore, spreading their hands before the blaze
and talking over their strange position, a low rumbling
of distant thunder was heard. Barney’s countenance

instantly fell.