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Bucket alone, whose head was strongest at a banquet of all those

in the district; Bucket, who could drink two butts of mead before

his tongue faltered and his legs tottered-Bucket, though long had

he feasted and deeply did he slumber, still gave a sign of life;

he blinked with one eye, and saw!-real nightmares! two dreadful

faces directly above him, and each had a pair of mustaches. They

breathed upon him, and touched his lips with their mustaches, and

flourished about four hands like wings. He was terrified, and

wanted to cross him self, but he tried in vain to stir his arm;

his right arm seemed pinned to his side. He strove to move his

left-alas! he found that the spirits had wrapt him tight as a

babe in swaddling bands. He was terrified still more frightfully;

immediately he closed his eyes and lay without breathing; he grew

cold and was near to death.