which it had paced the hall, the phantom of Squire Woodcock firmly,
advanced its cane, and marched straight forward towards the mysterious
stranger.

As he neared him, Israel shrunk. The dark coat-sleeve flapped on the
bony skeleton of the unknown arm. The face was lost in a sort of ghastly
blank. It was no living man.

But mechanically continuing his course, Israel drew still nearer and saw
a scarecrow.

Not a little relieved by the discovery, our adventurer paused, more
particularly to survey so deceptive an object, which seemed to have been
constructed on the most efficient principles; probably by some broken
down wax figure costumer. It comprised the complete wardrobe of a
scarecrow, namely: a cocked hat, bunged; tattered coat; old velveteen
breeches; and long worsted stockings, full of holes; all stuffed very
nicely with straw, and skeletoned by a frame-work of poles. There was a
great flapped pocket to the coat--which seemed to have been some
laborer's--standing invitingly opened. Putting his hands in, Israel drew
out the lid of an old tobacco-box, the broken bowl of a pipe, two rusty
nails, and a few kernels of wheat. This reminded him of the Squire's
pockets. Trying them, he produced a handsome handkerchief, a
spectacle-case, with a purse containing some silver and gold, amounting
to a little more than five pounds. Such is the difference between the
contents of the pockets of scarecrows and the pockets of well-to-do
squires. Ere donning his present habiliments, Israel had not omitted to
withdraw his own money from his own coat, and put it in the pocket of
his own waistcoat, which he had not exchanged.