WitH THE SToRY TELLERS

Now that the chost appeared complete,
Shawn feels his pulse the quicker beat,
And hard and fast he prays;

That he would not expire of fright,

That he would live till morning’s light;

So he could take ten guineas bright,
To cheer his mother’s days.

A ghastly sight before him spreads
Two pair of bodies, legs and heads,

Move past him down the floor;
From them two frightful ghosts are made,
And seeing them Shawn is sore afraid;
All heaven invokes to bring him aid;

Or this night he’ll deplore.

Meanwhile the ghosts together leant,

On shaping something they are bent,
Crouched down beside the door.

On them he now directs his gaze,

And soon a sphere he sees them raise;

Then tell off sides, arrange the plays,
And toss it on the floor.

Now happ’d the strangest sight of all,
The shades began to kick football;

But stranger still ’twas made;
For Shawn kicked hard the bounding leather,
And rushed the ghosts not caring whether,
Till all of them got mixed together,

And a fast game they played.

The football treat at length must cease,

The ghosts no longer seem at ease;
Shawn thinks he ought to speak.

“Of tonight’s games I long shall vaunt;

But why do you the castle haunt,

If ’tis allowed you speak, why can’t
You now the secret break?

105