I said nothing of ghosts, being ashamed to own that I quaked, a little
at the idea of the "back bed-room," as I shut out the friendly faces and
fastened myself in.
A lamp and matches stood in the hall, and lighting the lamp, I whisked
up stairs with suspicious rapidity, locking my door, and went to bed,
firmly refusing to own even to myself that I had ever heard the name of
Bezee Tucker.
Being very tired, I soon fell asleep; but fried potatoes and a dozen or
two of hot clams are not kinds of food best fitted to bring quiet sleep,
so a fit of nightmare brought me to a realizing sense of my foolishness.
From a chaos of wild dreams was finally brought forth a gigantic clam,
whose mission it was to devour me as I had devoured its relatives. The
sharp shells were open before me, and a solemn voice said, "Take her by
her little head and eat her quick."
Retribution was at hand, and, with a despairing effort to escape by
diving, I bumped my head smartly against the wall, and woke up feeling
as if there was an earthquake under the bed.
Collecting my scattered wits, I tried to go to sleep again; but alas!
that fatal feast had destroyed sleep, and I vainly tried to quiet my
wakeful senses with the rustle of leaves about the window and the
breaking waves upon the beach.
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