It was level full of sand, but when we scooped some of it out with our hands, we came upon the perfect skelington of a man, black with age, but nothing missing. It looked as if he might have been the giant Goliar that we read of in the Bible. He was no use to us, so we covered him up decent like, and as it was getting towards dark we took ourselves home agin. Next day I borrowed old Garrod’s dickey,[7] and rode up to Stalham, and called on old Dr. Rix, for he was what some folks call a aquarian, or somethin’ o’ that sort, and showed him my guinea in the bag, and the old bit o’ steel; and he gave me just what I asked him for ’em, and that was two-and-twenty shillings: he was pleased, and so was I, for it was just as much as I could earn in a fortnight. I stopped at his some time goldering[8] about what I had seen at Eccles, and he up and told me, when I mentioned about the big skelington, that if I could bring it to him _intack_--that’s not broken or any bits lost--he’d give me a five-pound note. Lor, I wor soon home agen, I made the old dickey fly as if the Old ’un were arter us. Thinks I, this ought to be a single-handed job, and if I take a big poke[9] and go alone, I shan’t have any one to dole[10] out halves to. So I got my spade and a lantern, a poke, and a fairish thumbpiece of bacon and bread, and everything else I wanted all ready, and then waited till near midnight, so that I knew the coast would be clear for the job. It was a thick, starless night, with great grey snow-clouds rolling about overhead, and the wind from the north-east was a regular marrer-freezer, and I can’t say I much cared for the work in hand; but, as the parson said when he went on a slide, “it’s foolish to turn back,” so on I went. The road was frozen right nubbly, and made me wobble about a bit, but by the time I got to the beach I was warm and comfortable, and got along more comfortable-like on the frozen sand, which was covered with snow in the hollows. The sand and foam from seaward was a bit unpleasant, but I didn’t trouble much about that, for my thoughts were a mile ahead, with the skelington waiting for me at Eccles. I had walked about half-a-mile along the beach, when down came the snow, wreathing and tearing about all mander[11] of ways, and every now and then I got into the centre of a whirl that pulled me up short, and nearly took my breath away. This only lasted a few minutes, and then the squall cleared off as suddenly as it came on, and I got on much faster with my journey.