though dead, of his deathless attachment) to offer her a share, not of his
bed and board, but of his shell and shroud. There is somewhat of the
imperative in the invitation, which runs thus:--

"The ghost it said so solemnly,
'Oh, Molly, you _must_ go with me,
All to the grave, your love to cool.'"

We have no doubt this assumption of command on the part of the ghost--an
assumption, be it remembered, never ventured upon by the living
Giles--gave rise to some unpleasant reflections in the mind of the
slumbering Molly. _Must_ is certainly an awkward word. Tell any lady that
she _must_ do this, or _must_ do that, and, however much her wishes may
have previously prompted the proceeding, we feel perfectly satisfied, that
on the very shortest notice she will find an absolute and undeniable
reason why such a proceeding is diametrically opposed to the line of
conduct she _will_, and therefore ought to, adopt.

With an intuitive knowledge of human nature, the great poet purposely uses
the above objectionable word. How could he do otherwise, or how more
effectually, and less offensively, extricate Molly Brown from the
unpleasant tenantry of the proposed under-ground floor? Command invariably
begets opposition, opposition as certainly leads to argument. So proves
our heroine, who, with a beautiful evasiveness, delivers the following
expostulation:--

"Says she, 'I am not dead, you fool!'"

One would think _that_ was a pretty decent clincher, by way of a reason
for declining the proposed trip to Giles Scroggins' little property at his