HOW NOT TO GO. 127 



and the man told him that 'twas no use, unless he 

 did : he was sure not to find it." 



"The captain ought to knowed that," responded 

 the new-comer. 



" Knowed it, of course he had ! everybody 

 knows Cap'n Kidd al'ers buried his money on the 

 full 'er the moon. Cap'n ought'er know better." 



" Ain't you goin' to try your luck some time ? " 



"Ain't I? Ain't I savin' all my wages, just for 

 that? there ain't no sorter doubt, there's a million 

 dollars buried there, it's sure as truth ; I'm 

 watchin' for signs, and, when they come right, you 

 bet I'll be there a-diggin'." 



The appearance of the mate, with an order for 

 the sailor, interrupted the conversation at this 

 point ; but I had heard enough to interest me. I 

 had seen another locality where the late Capt. 

 Kidd had buried his treasure. When I was a boy, 

 I used to visit with awe a certain spot on the back 

 of Munjoy Hill, in Portland, where many a man 

 had dug and dug for the supposed hidden ducats 

 of this, to my now thinking, much over-estimated 

 "bold privateer." 



As I write these lines, I read in the papers of 

 the day, that the people in the vicinity of Coffin's 

 Island, near New Jersey, have gone stark-staring 

 mad over a rumor, a report, a. tradition, or a clair- 



