THE iPHANTOM SHIP. 63 



Curse me if I know how to get naturally away from the Crocodile 

 Island." 



" Coach can't wait another moment, sir/* said the waiter, " sup- 

 per, two and sixpence." 



" Supper ! ^' exclaimed the traveller, " this d fellow, with 



his cock-and-a-buU story, about being king of the jackdaws, or 

 kickshaws, or Lord knows what, has kept me from eating a morsel.'^ 



" Coachman can't wait a moment, sir." 



" I tell you I haven't tasted a mouthful since I left Birmingham." 



" You can't help me to a plan for getting the young people off 

 the island ? " said the youth. 



" May the devil catch both of them, and a hundred crocodiles 

 eat every bone in their skins ! " 



" Two and sixpence for supper, sir," said the waiter. 



" Two hundred and sixty devils first," cried the traveller in a 

 prodigious passion, buttoning up his cloak and preparing to re- 

 sume his journey — " let that infernal Indian king, who is only 

 some lying scribbler in a magazine, pay for it himself, for I'm 

 hanged if he hasn't cheated me out of my cold beef, and drank 

 every drop of my porter to the bargain." 



" All right, gentlemen," said the coachman in the yard. 



" All right," replied the guard ! " tsli ! tsh ; ya ! hip — ts I ts !" 

 — and the half-famished outside passenger was whirled along 

 Corn Market, and over Magdalen Bridge, at the rate of eleven 

 miles an hour 



FUNEREAL SKETCHES. 

 No. XXII., THE PHANTOM SHIP. 



Beware ! beware ! 'Tis the phantom ship, 



She comes from the Dead-man's bay, 

 Where hoarse winds sweep o'er the midnight deep, 



Her course let none gainsay : 

 In the fellest gloom you may see her loom 



Along that trackless way. 

 But she is not seen in the moonbeam sheen 



And she is not seen by day. 



