JACK-IN-THE-SWAMP.

I got these facts, hastened out to Nottingham to see
the ghost.

Of course the peasants and common people were
thoroughly frightened by this time and kept away ;
but the party from London were resolved to see
for themselves. They went into the old vault as
night came on, and sat down to wait for the ghost.

The party of the night before, using their same
tactics, drew the poor ghost from the hill as soon as
it appeared there, and made it take to the deep
carriage cut as before. Then closed in from both
ways with torches and lanterns, it fled frightened into
the old vault where a somewhat terrified party
crouched in the dark waiting for it. The two ladies
screamed and then fainted. The men jumped up
and tumbled over each other, while the poor ghost
scrambled up to the highest coffin and stood there
trembling and shaking till its little feet beat a
strange tattoo on the dry old oaken lid of some
ancient baron, The men got to their feet as fast as
they could, and catching up their lanterns, held them
high up over their heads and looked at the ghost.
It was a sheep !

They pulled Robin Hood’s ghost down from his
high place in a hurry, for they were very angry and
impatient at being hoaxed by a sheep. And the

237

ladies who were quite ashamed at having fainted,
caught hold of him and began to pull his wool and
shake him heartily. But when they found he was
only skin and bone they began to feel sorry and
to try to find out what was the matter with him.

And what do you think! why, the poor thing had
been licking and nosing an old tin can and got it
fast over its upper jaw. Then the flesh had swollen
and it would not come off, paw and plunge and dig
with his slim fore legs, and claw with his hind ones,
as he might. And as you know, or at least ought to
know, a sheep, nor indeed any cloven-footed creature
that chews the cud, has no upper teeth on its fore
jaw, and so as it could neither bite it off, nor paw it
off, nor kick it off, the poor creature was dying,
crazy from pain and hunger and fright.

Of course they relieved the wretched creature, and
in a few moments it was nibbling at the grass. But
no one ever wrote up the facts, I think. I think,
as the lady who told me the story said, they all felt
a little bit sheepish about it.

I have ventured to tell it because in the first place
it is quite harmless, and in the second place I wish
to impress you with this solid truth, that all ghosts
have no more foundation in fact than had this famoug
Robin Hood’s ghost.

 

JACK-IN-THE-SWAMP.

By Lucy Larcom.

RACKLE! crash! the ice is melting ;
From the west, wild showers are pelting ;
Swish and gurgle! splash and spatter!
* Halloo, good folks! what’s the matter?
Seems to me the roof is leaking!”
Jack from down below is speaking.

You know little Jack?

In the spring he stands up on the swampy edge

Of the hemlock-wood, looking out from the shade of the ferny ledge;

But in winters he cuddles close under a thatch of damp leaves,

Hark ! the water is trickling fast in through his garret-eaves,

And he opens his eyes, and up he starts out of his earthy bed ;

And he carefully holds, while he climbs aloft, his umbrella over his head.
High time for you to be up, Jack, when every living thing

Is washing and sunning itself, Jack, and getting ready for spring!