“But Brother—” here you will observe How friendly we’d become, “For me to go up there tonight With You—is going Some!
“And such a task! What could I do? ’Twould weigh so mighty on My mortal shoulders—and besides I’ve but my nightie on!”
“Why don’t you see” replied the wraith, “What faith I’ve got in you— Who’d parcel-post a glacier’s ice In cans—what can’t you do?
“Some high explosive you could get Like dynamite and blow Me out from all my frigid plight— It could be done, I know.”
“It could be done,” I said, “but then The risk you run is heightened— The dyna-MITE blow bones and all— And then again it mightn’t!”
I looked to see—perhaps the pun Had punched his ponderous thinker— His countenance was passive quite, He never winked a blinker.
But then his wraithy nut, I ween, Was shadow-celled—not solid, Hence this hiatus in his bean, His manner grave and stolid.
“This dynamiting Dinos is Quite risky in the main— Although you haven’t much to lose And quite a bit to gain!”
“I’ll chance it—come!” the Dino said, “There’s little time to lose— We ghosts you know, can only romp While other people snooze.”
His trunk galumpled toward my bunk, It snoodled till it found me, Then with a firm but gentle squeeze It wrapped itself around me;