A moment later, beginning to dress himself in the ageworn and moth-eaten garments of the chest, he added:
"Well, here's the old duds on my back. Come, Mister Ancestor, down out of your frame, and dare to tell me a point of looks in which we differ."
Clad in Sir Henry Morgan's ancient habiliments, a cutlass strapped on around the middle and two flint-lock pistols of huge and ponderous design thrust into his waist-scarf, the resemblance between the living man and the pictured semblance of the old buccaneer who had been long since resolved to dust, was striking.
"Back to back against the mainmast, Held at bay the entire crew ..."
As the young man, picking the strings of a guitar, began to sing the old buccaneer rouse, it seemed to him that the picture of his forebear faded into another pi
