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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Humorous Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Humorous Ghost Stories
+
+Author: Dorothy Scarborough
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26950]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Marcia Brooks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+book was produced from scanned images of public domain
+material from the Google Print project.)
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+
+
+HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES
+
+
+
+
+HUMOROUS GHOST
+STORIES
+
+SELECTED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION
+
+BY
+
+DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH, PH.D.
+
+LECTURER IN ENGLISH, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
+AUTHOR OF "THE SUPERNATURAL IN MODERN ENGLISH FICTION,"
+"FUGITIVE VERSES," "FROM A SOUTHERN PORCH," ETC.
+COMPILER OF "FAMOUS MODERN GHOST STORIES"
+
+G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
+
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+The Knickerbocker Press
+
+1921
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1921
+
+BY
+
+DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH
+
+_Printed in the United States of America_
+
+
+
+
+    To
+
+    DR. AND MRS. JOHN T. HARRINGTON
+
+    _Life flings miles and years between us,
+        It is true,--
+    But brings never to me dearer
+        Friends than you!_
+
+
+
+
+The Humorous Ghost
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The humorous ghost is distinctly a modern character. In early literature
+wraiths took themselves very seriously, and insisted on a proper show of
+respectful fear on the part of those whom they honored by haunting. A
+mortal was expected to rise when a ghost entered the room, and in case
+he was slow about it, his spine gave notice of what etiquette demanded.
+In the event of outdoor apparition, if a man failed to bare his head in
+awe, the roots of his hair reminded him of his remissness. Woman has
+always had the advantage over man in such emergency, in that her locks,
+being long and pinned up, are less easily moved--which may explain the
+fact (if it be a fact!) that in fiction women have shown themselves more
+self-possessed in ghostly presence than men. Or possibly a woman knows
+that a masculine spook is, after all, only a man, and therefore may be
+charmed into helplessness, while the feminine can be seen through by
+another woman and thus disarmed. The majority of the comic apparitions,
+curiously enough, are masculine. You don't often find women wraithed in
+smiles--perhaps because they resent being made ridiculous, even after
+they're dead. Or maybe the reason lies in the fact that men have
+written most of the comic or satiric ghost stories, and have
+chivalrously spared the gentler shades. And there are very few funny
+child-ghosts--you might almost say none, in comparison with the number
+of grown-ups. The number of ghost children of any or all types is small
+proportionately--perhaps because it seems an unnatural thing for a child
+to die under any circumstances, while to make of him a butt for jokes
+would be unfeeling. There are a few instances, as in the case of the
+ghost baby mentioned later, but very few.
+
+Ancient ghosts were a long-faced lot. They didn't know how to play at
+all. They had been brought up in stern repression of frivolities as
+haunters--no matter how sportive they may have been in life--and in turn
+they cowed mortals into a servile submission. No doubt they thought of
+men and women as mere youngsters that must be taught their place, since
+any living person, however senile, would be thought juvenile compared
+with a timeless spook.
+
+But in these days of individualism and radical liberalism, spooks as
+well as mortals are expanding their personalities and indulging in
+greater freedom. A ghost can call his shade his own now, and exhibit any
+mood he pleases. Even young female wraiths, demanding latchkeys, refuse
+to obey the frowning face of the clock, and engage in light-hearted
+ebullience to make the ghost of Mrs. Grundy turn a shade paler in
+horror. Nowadays haunters have more fun and freedom than the haunted. In
+fact, it's money in one's pocket these days to be dead, for ghosts have
+no rent problems, and dead men pay no bills. What officer would
+willingly pursue a ghostly tenant to his last lodging in order to serve
+summons on him? And suppose a ghost brought into court demanded trial by
+a jury of his peers? No--manifestly death has compensations not
+connected with the consolations of religion.
+
+The marvel is that apparitions were so long in realizing their
+possibilities, in improving their advantages. The specters in classic
+and medieval literature were malarial, vaporous beings without energy to
+do anything but threaten, and mortals never would have trembled with
+fear at their frown if they had known how feeble they were. At best a
+revenant could only rattle a rusty skeleton, or shake a moldy shroud, or
+clank a chain--but as mortals cowered before his demonstrations, he
+didn't worry. If he wished to evoke the extreme of anguish from his
+host, he raised a menacing arm and uttered a windy word or two. Now it
+takes more than that to produce a panic. The up-to-date ghost keeps his
+skeleton in a garage or some place where it is cleaned and oiled and
+kept in good working order. The modern wraith has sold his sheet to the
+old clo'es man, and dresses as in life. Now the ghost has learned to
+have a variety of good times, and he can make the living squirm far
+more satisfyingly than in the past. The spook of to-day enjoys making
+his haunted laugh even while he groans in terror. He knows that there's
+no weapon, no threat, in horror, to be compared with ridicule.
+
+Think what a solemn creature the Gothic ghost was! How little
+originality and initiative he showed and how dependent he was on his own
+atmosphere for thrills! His sole appeal was to the spinal column. The
+ghost of to-day touches the funny bone as well. He adds new horrors to
+being haunted, but new pleasures also. The modern specter can be a
+joyous creature on occasion, as he can be, when he wishes, fearsome
+beyond the dreams of classic or Gothic revenant. He has a keen sense of
+humor and loves a good joke on a mortal, while he can even enjoy one on
+himself. Though his fun is of comparatively recent origin--it's less
+than a century since he learned to crack a smile--the laughing ghost is
+very much alive and sportively active. Some of these new spooks are
+notoriously good company. Many Americans there are to-day who would
+court being haunted by the captain and crew of Richard Middleton's Ghost
+Ship that landed in a turnip field and dispensed drink till they
+demoralized the denizens of village and graveyard alike. After that show
+of spirits, the turnips in that field tasted of rum, long after the
+ghost ship had sailed away into the blue.
+
+The modern spook is possessed not only of humor but of a caustic satire
+as well. His jest is likely to have more than one point to it, and he
+can haunt so insidiously, can make himself so at home in his host's
+study or bedroom that a man actually welcomes a chat with him--only to
+find out too late that his human foibles have been mercilessly flayed.
+Pity the poor chap in H. C. Bunner's story, _The Interfering Spook_, for
+instance, who was visited nightly by a specter that repeated to him all
+the silly and trite things he had said during the day, a ghost,
+moreover, that towered and swelled at every hackneyed phrase, till
+finally he filled the room and burst after the young man proposed to his
+admired one, and made subsequent remarks. Ghosts not only have
+appallingly long memories, but they possess a mean advantage over the
+living in that they have once been mortal, while the men and women they
+haunt haven't yet been ghosts. Suppose each one of us were to be haunted
+by his own inane utterances? True, we're told that we'll have to give
+account Some Day for every idle word, but recording angels seem more
+sympathetic than a sneering ghost at one's elbow. Ghosts can satirize
+more fittingly than anyone else the absurdities of certain psychic
+claims, as witness the delightful seriousness of the story _Back from
+that Bourne_, which appeared as a front page news story in the New York
+_Sun_ years ago. I should think that some of the futile, laggard
+messenger-boy ghosts that one reads about nowadays would blush with
+shame before the wholesome raillery of the porgy fisherman.
+
+The modern humorous ghost satirizes everything from the old-fashioned
+specter (he's very fond of taking pot-shots at him) to the latest
+psychic manifestations. He laughs at ghosts that aren't experts in
+efficiency haunting, and he has a lot of fun out of mortals for being
+scared of specters. He loves to shake the lugubrious terrors of the past
+before you, exposing their hollow futility, and he contrives to create
+new fears for you magically while you are laughing at him.
+
+The new ghost hates conventionality and uses the old thrills only to
+show what dead batteries they come from. His really electrical effects
+are his own inventions. He needs no dungeon keeps and monkish cells to
+play about in--not he! He demands no rag nor bone nor clank of chain of
+his old equipment to start on his career. He can start up a moving
+picture show of his own, as in Ruth McEnery Stuart's _The Haunted
+Photograph_, and demonstrate a new kind of apparition. The ghost story
+of to-day gives you spinal sensations with a difference, as in the
+immortal _Transferred Ghost_, by Frank R. Stockton, where the suitor on
+the moonlit porch, attempting to tell his fair one that he dotes on her,
+sees the ghost of her ferocious uncle (who isn't dead!) kicking his
+heels against the railing, and hears his admonition that he'd better
+hurry up, as the live uncle is coming in sight. The thrill with which
+you read of the ghost in Ellis Parker Butler's _The Late John Wiggins_,
+who deposits his wooden leg with the family he is haunting, on the plea
+that it is too materialistic to be worn with ease, and therefore they
+must take care of it for him, doesn't altogether leave you even when you
+discover that the late John is a fraud, has never been a ghost nor used
+a wooden leg. But a terrifying leg-acy while you do believe in it!
+
+The new ghost has a more nimble and versatile tongue as well as wit. In
+the older fiction and drama apparitions spoke seldom, and then merely as
+_ghosts_, not as individuals. And ghosts, like kings in drama, were of a
+dignity and must preserve it in their speech. Or perhaps the authors
+were doubtful as to the dialogue of shades, and compromised on a few
+stately ejaculations as being safely phantasmal speaking parts. But
+compare that usage with the rude freedom of some modern spooks, as John
+Kendrick Bangs's spectral cook of Bangletop, who lets fall her h's and
+twists grammar in a rare and diverting manner. For myself, I'd hate to
+be an old-fashioned ghost with no chance to keep up with the styles in
+slang. Think of having always--and always--to speak a dead language!
+
+The humorous ghost is not only modern, but he is distinctively American.
+There are ghosts of all nationalities, naturally, but the spook that
+provides a joke--on his host or on himself--is Yankee in origin and
+development. The dry humor, the comic sense of the incongruous, the
+willingness to laugh at himself as at others, carry over into
+immaterialization as characteristic American qualities and are preserved
+in their true flavor. I don't assert, of course, that Americans have
+been the only ones in this field. The French and English selections in
+this volume are sufficient to prove the contrary. Gautier's _The Mummy's
+Foot_ has a humor of a lightness and grace as delicate as the princess's
+little foot itself. There are various English stories of whimsical
+haunting, some of actual spooks and some of the hoax type. Hoax ghosts
+are fairly numerous in British as in American literature, one of the
+early specimens of the kind being _The Specter of Tappington_ in the
+_Ingoldsby Legends_. The files of _Blackwood's Magazine_ reveal several
+examples, though not of high literary value.
+
+Of the early specimens of the really amusing ghost that is an actual
+revenant is _The Ghost Baby_, in _Blackwood's_, which shows originality
+and humor, yet is too diffuse for printing here. In that we have a
+conventional young bachelor, engaged to a charming girl, who is
+entangled in social complications and made to suffer mental torment
+because, without his consent, he has been chosen as the nurse and
+guardian of a ghost baby that cradles after him wherever he goes. This
+is a rich story almost spoiled by being poorly told. I sigh to think of
+the laughs that Frank R. Stockton or John Kendrick Bangs or Gelett
+Burgess could have got out of the situation. There are other comic
+British spooks, as in Baring-Gould's _A Happy Release_, where a widow
+and a widower in love are haunted by the jealous ghosts of their
+respective spouses, till the phantom couple take a liking to each other
+and decide to let the living bury their dead. This is suggestive of
+Brander Matthews's earlier and cleverer story of a spectral courtship,
+in _The Rival Ghosts_. Medieval and later literature gave us many
+instances of a love affair or marriage between one spirit and one
+mortal, but it remained for the modern American to celebrate the
+nuptials of two ghosts. Think of being married when you know that you
+and the other party are going to live ever after--whether happily or no!
+Truly, the present terrors are more fearsome than the old!
+
+The stories by Eden Phillpotts and Richard Middleton in this collection
+show the diversity of the English humor as associated with apparitions,
+and are entertaining in themselves. The _Canterville Ghost_, by Oscar
+Wilde, is one of his best short stories and is in his happiest vein of
+laughing satire. This travesty on the conventional traditions of the
+wraith is preposterously delightful, one of the cleverest ghost stories
+in our language. Zangwill has written engagingly of spooks, with a
+laughable story about Samuel Johnson. And there are others. But the fact
+remains that in spite of conceded and admirable examples, the humorous
+ghost story is for the most part American in creation and spirit.
+Washington Irving might be said to have started that fashion in
+skeletons and shades, for he has given us various comic haunters, some
+real and some make-believe. Frank R. Stockton gave his to funny spooks
+with a riotous and laughing pen. The spirit in his _Transferred Ghost_
+is impudently deathless, and has called up a train of subsequent
+haunters. John Kendrick Bangs has made the darker regions seem
+comfortable and homelike for us, and has created ghosts so human and so
+funny that we look forward to being one--or more. We feel downright
+neighborly toward such specters as the futile "last ghost" Nelson Lloyd
+evokes for us, as we appreciate the satire of Rose O'Neill's
+sophisticated wraith. The daring concept of Gelett Burgess's Ghost
+Extinguisher is altogether American. The field is still comparatively
+limited, but a number of Americans have done distinctive work in it. The
+specter now wears motley instead of a shroud, and shakes his jester's
+bells the while he rattles his bones. I dare any, however grouchy,
+reader to finish the stories in this volume without having a kindlier
+feeling toward ghosts!
+
+D. S.
+
+NEW YORK,
+_March, 1921._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                     PAGE
+
+INTRODUCTION: THE HUMOROUS GHOST      vii
+
+THE CANTERVILLE GHOST                   3
+  BY OSCAR WILDE
+
+THE GHOST-EXTINGUISHER                 51
+  BY GELETT BURGESS
+
+"DEY AIN'T NO GHOSTS"                  69
+  BY ELLIS PARKER BUTLER
+
+THE TRANSFERRED GHOST                  89
+  BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+THE MUMMY'S FOOT                      109
+  BY THÉOPHILE GAUTIER
+
+THE RIVAL GHOSTS                      129
+  BY BRANDER MATTHEWS
+
+THE WATER GHOST OF HARROWBY HALL      159
+  BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+BACK FROM THAT BOURNE                 175
+  ANONYMOUS
+
+THE GHOST-SHIP                        187
+  BY RICHARD MIDDLETON
+
+THE TRANSPLANTED GHOST                205
+  BY WALLACE IRWIN
+
+THE LAST GHOST IN HARMONY             229
+  BY NELSON LLOYD
+
+THE GHOST OF MISER BRIMPSON           247
+  BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
+
+THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH                275
+  BY RUTH MCENERY STUART
+
+THE GHOST THAT GOT THE BUTTON         295
+  BY WILL ADAMS
+
+THE SPECTER BRIDEGROOM                315
+  BY WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+THE SPECTER OF TAPPINGTON             341
+  COMPILED BY RICHARD BARHAM
+
+IN THE BARN                           385
+  BY BURGES JOHNSON
+
+A SHADY PLOT                          403
+  BY ELSIE BROWN
+
+THE LADY AND THE GHOST                425
+  BY ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
+
+
+
+
+HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES
+
+
+
+
+THE CANTERVILLE GHOST
+
+_An amusing chronicle of the tribulations of the Ghost of Canterville
+Chase when his ancestral halls became the home of the American Minister
+to the Court of St. James._
+
+BY OSCAR WILDE
+
+
+
+
+The Canterville Ghost
+
+BY OSCAR WILDE
+
+
+I
+
+When Mr. Hiram B. Otis, the American Minister, bought Canterville Chase,
+everyone told him he was doing a very foolish thing, as there was no
+doubt at all that the place was haunted. Indeed, Lord Canterville
+himself, who was a man of the most punctilious honor, had felt it his
+duty to mention the fact to Mr. Otis when they came to discuss terms.
+
+"We have not cared to live in the place ourselves," said Lord
+Canterville, "since my grand-aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Bolton, was
+frightened into a fit, from which she never really recovered, by two
+skeleton hands being placed on her shoulders as she was dressing for
+dinner, and I feel bound to tell you, Mr. Otis, that the ghost has been
+seen by several living members of my family, as well as by the rector of
+the parish, the Rev. Augustus Dampier, who is a Fellow of King's
+College, Cambridge. After the unfortunate accident to the Duchess, none
+of our younger servants would stay with us, and Lady Canterville often
+got very little sleep at night, in consequence of the mysterious noises
+that came from the corridor and the library."
+
+"My Lord," answered the Minister, "I will take the furniture and the
+ghost at a valuation. I have come from a modern country, where we have
+everything that money can buy; and with all our spry young fellows
+painting the Old World red, and carrying off your best actors and
+prima-donnas, I reckon that if there were such a thing as a ghost in
+Europe, we'd have it at home in a very short time in one of our public
+museums, or on the road as a show."
+
+"I fear that the ghost exists," said Lord Canterville, smiling, "though
+it may have resisted the overtures of your enterprising impresarios. It
+has been well known for three centuries, since 1584 in fact, and always
+makes its appearance before the death of any member of our family."
+
+"Well, so does the family doctor for that matter, Lord Canterville. But
+there is no such thing, sir, as a ghost, and I guess the laws of Nature
+are not going to be suspended for the British aristocracy."
+
+"You are certainly very natural in America," answered Lord Canterville,
+who did not quite understand Mr. Otis's last observation, "and if you
+don't mind a ghost in the house, it is all right. Only you must remember
+I warned you."
+
+A few weeks after this, the purchase was concluded, and at the close of
+the season the Minister and his family went down to Canterville Chase.
+Mrs. Otis, who, as Miss Lucretia R. Tappan, of West 53d Street, had been
+a celebrated New York belle, was now a very handsome, middle-aged woman,
+with fine eyes, and a superb profile. Many American ladies on leaving
+their native land adopt an appearance of chronic ill-health, under the
+impression that it is a form of European refinement, but Mrs. Otis had
+never fallen into this error. She had a magnificent constitution, and a
+really wonderful amount of animal spirits. Indeed, in many respects, she
+was quite English, and was an excellent example of the fact that we have
+really everything in common with America nowadays, except, of course,
+language. Her eldest son, christened Washington by his parents in a
+moment of patriotism, which he never ceased to regret, was a
+fair-haired, rather good-looking young man, who had qualified himself
+for American diplomacy by leading the German at the Newport Casino for
+three successive seasons, and even in London was well known as an
+excellent dancer. Gardenias and the peerage were his only weaknesses.
+Otherwise he was extremely sensible. Miss Virginia E. Otis was a little
+girl of fifteen, lithe and lovely as a fawn, and with a fine freedom in
+her large blue eyes. She was a wonderful Amazon, and had once raced old
+Lord Bilton on her pony twice round the park, winning by a length and a
+half, just in front of the Achilles statue, to the huge delight of the
+young Duke of Cheshire, who proposed for her on the spot, and was sent
+back to Eton that very night by his guardians, in floods of tears.
+After Virginia came the twins, who were usually called "The Stars and
+Stripes," as they were always getting swished. They were delightful
+boys, and, with the exception of the worthy Minister, the only true
+republicans of the family.
+
+As Canterville Chase is seven miles from Ascot, the nearest railway
+station, Mr. Otis had telegraphed for a wagonette to meet them, and they
+started on their drive in high spirits. It was a lovely July evening,
+and the air was delicate with the scent of the pinewoods. Now and then
+they heard a wood-pigeon brooding over its own sweet voice, or saw, deep
+in the rustling fern, the burnished breast of the pheasant. Little
+squirrels peered at them from the beech-trees as they went by, and the
+rabbits scudded away through the brushwood and over the mossy knolls,
+with their white tails in the air. As they entered the avenue of
+Canterville Chase, however, the sky became suddenly overcast with
+clouds, a curious stillness seemed to hold the atmosphere, a great
+flight of rooks passed silently over their heads, and, before they
+reached the house, some big drops of rain had fallen.
+
+Standing on the steps to receive them was an old woman, neatly dressed
+in black silk, with a white cap and apron. This was Mrs. Umney, the
+housekeeper, whom Mrs. Otis, at Lady Canterville's earnest request, had
+consented to keep in her former position. She made them each a low
+curtsy as they alighted, and said in a quaint, old-fashioned manner, "I
+bid you welcome to Canterville Chase." Following her, they passed
+through the fine Tudor hall into the library, a long, low room, paneled
+in black oak, at the end of which was a large stained glass window. Here
+they found tea laid out for them, and, after taking off their wraps,
+they sat down and began to look round, while Mrs. Umney waited on them.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Otis caught sight of a dull red stain on the floor just by
+the fireplace, and, quite unconscious of what it really signified, said
+to Mrs. Umney, "I am afraid something has been spilled there."
+
+"Yes, madam," replied the old housekeeper in a low voice, "blood has
+been spilled on that spot."
+
+"How horrid!" cried Mrs. Otis; "I don't at all care for blood-stains in
+a sitting-room. It must be removed at once."
+
+The old woman smiled, and answered in the same low, mysterious voice,
+"It is the blood of Lady Eleanore de Canterville, who was murdered on
+that very spot by her own husband, Sir Simon de Canterville, in 1575.
+Sir Simon survived her nine years, and disappeared suddenly under very
+mysterious circumstances. His body has never been discovered, but his
+guilty spirit still haunts the Chase. The blood-stain has been much
+admired by tourists and others, and cannot be removed."
+
+"That is all nonsense," cried Washington Otis; "Pinkerton's Champion
+Stain Remover and Paragon Detergent will clean it up in no time," and
+before the terrified housekeeper could interfere, he had fallen upon his
+knees, and was rapidly scouring the floor with a small stick of what
+looked like a black cosmetic. In a few moments no trace of the
+blood-stain could be seen.
+
+"I knew Pinkerton would do it," he exclaimed, triumphantly, as he looked
+round at his admiring family; but no sooner had he said these words than
+a terrible flash of lightning lit up the somber room, a fearful peal of
+thunder made them all start to their feet, and Mrs. Umney fainted.
+
+"What a monstrous climate!" said the American Minister, calmly, as he
+lit a long cheroot. "I guess the old country is so overpopulated that
+they have not enough decent weather for everybody. I have always been of
+opinion that emigration is the only thing for England."
+
+"My dear Hiram," cried Mrs. Otis, "what can we do with a woman who
+faints?"
+
+"Charge it to her like breakages," answered the Minister; "she won't
+faint after that"; and in a few moments Mrs. Umney certainly came to.
+There was no doubt, however, that she was extremely upset, and she
+sternly warned Mr. Otis to beware of some trouble coming to the house.
+
+"I have seen things with my own eyes, sir," she said, "that would make
+any Christian's hair stand on end, and many and many a night I have not
+closed my eyes in sleep for the awful things that are done here." Mr.
+Otis, however, and his wife warmly assured the honest soul that they
+were not afraid of ghosts, and, after invoking the blessings of
+Providence on her new master and mistress, and making arrangements for
+an increase of salary, the old housekeeper tottered off to her own room.
+
+
+II
+
+The storm raged fiercely all that night, but nothing of particular note
+occurred. The next morning, however, when they came down to breakfast,
+they found the terrible stain of blood once again on the floor. "I don't
+think it can be the fault of the Paragon Detergent," said Washington,
+"for I have tried it with everything. It must be the ghost." He
+accordingly rubbed out the stain a second time, but the second morning
+it appeared again. The third morning also it was there, though the
+library had been locked up at night by Mr. Otis himself, and the key
+carried upstairs. The whole family were now quite interested; Mr. Otis
+began to suspect that he had been too dogmatic in his denial of the
+existence of ghosts, Mrs. Otis expressed her intention of joining the
+Psychical Society, and Washington prepared a long letter to Messrs.
+Myers and Podmore on the subject of the Permanence of Sanguineous Stains
+when connected with Crime. That night all doubts about the objective
+existence of phantasmata were removed forever.
+
+The day had been warm and sunny; and, in the cool of the evening, the
+whole family went out to drive. They did not return home till nine
+o'clock, when they had a light supper. The conversation in no way turned
+upon ghosts, so there were not even those primary conditions of
+receptive expectations which so often precede the presentation of
+psychical phenomena. The subjects discussed, as I have since learned
+from Mr. Otis, were merely such as form the ordinary conversation of
+cultured Americans of the better class, such as the immense superiority
+of Miss Fanny Devonport over Sarah Bernhardt as an actress; the
+difficulty of obtaining green corn, buckwheat cakes, and hominy, even in
+the best English houses; the importance of Boston in the development of
+the world-soul; the advantages of the baggage-check system in railway
+traveling; and the sweetness of the New York accent as compared to the
+London drawl. No mention at all was made of the supernatural, nor was
+Sir Simon de Canterville alluded to in any way. At eleven o'clock the
+family retired, and by half-past all the lights were out. Some time
+after, Mr. Otis was awakened by a curious noise in the corridor, outside
+his room. It sounded like the clank of metal, and seemed to be coming
+nearer every moment. He got up at once, struck a match, and looked at
+the time. It was exactly one o'clock. He was quite calm, and felt his
+pulse, which was not at all feverish. The strange noise still continued,
+and with it he heard distinctly the sound of footsteps. He put on his
+slippers, took a small oblong phial out of his dressing-case, and opened
+the door. Right in front of him he saw, in the wan moonlight, an old man
+of terrible aspect. His eyes were as red burning coals; long gray hair
+fell over his shoulders in matted coils; his garments, which were of
+antique cut, were soiled and ragged, and from his wrists and ankles hung
+heavy manacles and rusty gyves.
+
+"My dear sir," said Mr. Otis, "I really must insist on your oiling those
+chains, and have brought you for that purpose a small bottle of the
+Tammany Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely efficacious
+upon one application, and there are several testimonials to that effect
+on the wrapper from some of our most eminent native divines. I shall
+leave it here for you by the bedroom candles, and will be happy to
+supply you with more, should you require it." With these words the
+United States Minister laid the bottle down on a marble table, and,
+closing his door, retired to rest.
+
+For a moment the Canterville ghost stood quite motionless in natural
+indignation; then, dashing the bottle violently upon the polished floor,
+he fled down the corridor, uttering hollow groans, and emitting a
+ghastly green light. Just, however, as he reached the top of the great
+oak staircase, a door was flung open, two little white-robed figures
+appeared, and a large pillow whizzed past his head! There was evidently
+no time to be lost, so, hastily adopting the Fourth dimension of Space
+as a means of escape, he vanished through the wainscoting, and the
+house became quite quiet.
+
+On reaching a small secret chamber in the left wing, he leaned up
+against a moonbeam to recover his breath, and began to try and realize
+his position. Never, in a brilliant and uninterrupted career of three
+hundred years, had he been so grossly insulted. He thought of the
+Dowager Duchess, whom he had frightened into a fit as she stood before
+the glass in her lace and diamonds; of the four housemaids, who had gone
+into hysterics when he merely grinned at them through the curtains on
+one of the spare bedrooms; of the rector of the parish, whose candle he
+had blown out as he was coming late one night from the library, and who
+had been under the care of Sir William Gull ever since, a perfect martyr
+to nervous disorders; and of old Madame de Tremouillac, who, having
+wakened up one morning early and seen a skeleton seated in an arm-chair
+by the fire reading her diary, had been confined to her bed for six
+weeks with an attack of brain fever, and, on her recovery, had become
+reconciled to the Church, and broken off her connection with that
+notorious skeptic, Monsieur de Voltaire. He remembered the terrible
+night when the wicked Lord Canterville was found choking in his
+dressing-room, with the knave of diamonds halfway down his throat, and
+confessed, just before he died, that he had cheated Charles James Fox
+out of £50,000 at Crockford's by means of that very card, and swore that
+the ghost had made him swallow it. All his great achievements came back
+to him again, from the butler who had shot himself in the pantry because
+he had seen a green hand tapping at the windowpane, to the beautiful
+Lady Stutfield, who was always obliged to wear a black velvet band round
+her throat to hide the mark of five fingers burnt upon her white skin,
+and who drowned herself at last in the carp-pond at the end of the
+King's Walk. With the enthusiastic egotism of the true artist, he went
+over his most celebrated performances, and smiled bitterly to himself as
+he recalled to mind his last appearance as "Red Reuben, or the Strangled
+Babe," his _début_ as "Gaunt Gibeon, the Blood-sucker of Bexley Moor,"
+and the _furore_ he had excited one lovely June evening by merely
+playing ninepins with his own bones upon the lawn-tennis ground. And
+after all this some wretched modern Americans were to come and offer him
+the Rising Sun Lubricator, and throw pillows at his head! It was quite
+unbearable. Besides, no ghost in history had ever been treated in this
+manner. Accordingly, he determined to have vengeance, and remained till
+daylight in an attitude of deep thought.
+
+
+III
+
+The next morning, when the Otis family met at breakfast, they discussed
+the ghost at some length. The United States Minister was naturally a
+little annoyed to find that his present had not been accepted. "I have
+no wish," he said, "to do the ghost any personal injury, and I must say
+that, considering the length of time he has been in the house, I don't
+think it is at all polite to throw pillows at him,"--a very just remark,
+at which, I am sorry to say, the twins burst into shouts of laughter.
+"Upon the other hand," he continued, "if he really declines to use the
+Rising Sun Lubricator, we shall have to take his chains from him. It
+would be quite impossible to sleep, with such a noise going on outside
+the bedrooms."
+
+For the rest of the week, however, they were undisturbed, the only thing
+that excited any attention being the continual renewal of the
+blood-stain on the library floor. This certainly was very strange, as
+the door was always locked at night by Mr. Otis, and the windows kept
+closely barred. The chameleon-like color, also, of the stain excited a
+good deal of comment. Some mornings it was a dull (almost Indian) red,
+then it would be vermilion, then a rich purple, and once when they came
+down for family prayers, according to the simple rites of the Free
+American Reformed Episcopalian Church, they found it a bright
+emerald-green. These kaleidoscopic changes naturally amused the party
+very much, and bets on the subject were freely made every evening. The
+only person who did not enter into the joke was little Virginia, who,
+for some unexplained reason, was always a good deal distressed at the
+sight of the blood-stain, and very nearly cried the morning it was
+emerald-green.
+
+The second appearance of the ghost was on Sunday night. Shortly after
+they had gone to bed they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful crash in
+the hall. Rushing downstairs, they found that a large suit of old armor
+had become detached from its stand, and had fallen on the stone floor,
+while seated in a high-backed chair was the Canterville ghost, rubbing
+his knees with an expression of acute agony on his face. The twins,
+having brought their pea-shooters with them, at once discharged two
+pellets on him, with that accuracy of aim which can only be attained by
+long and careful practice on a writing-master, while the United States
+Minister covered him with his revolver, and called upon him, in
+accordance with Californian etiquette, to hold up his hands! The ghost
+started up with a wild shriek of rage, and swept through them like a
+mist, extinguishing Washington Otis's candle as he passed, and so
+leaving them all in total darkness. On reaching the top of the staircase
+he recovered himself, and determined to give his celebrated peal of
+demoniac laughter. This he had on more than one occasion found extremely
+useful. It was said to have turned Lord Raker's wig gray in a single
+night, and had certainly made three of Lady Canterville's French
+governesses give warning before their month was up. He accordingly
+laughed his most horrible laugh, till the old vaulted roof rang and rang
+again, but hardly had the fearful echo died away when a door opened,
+and Mrs. Otis came out in a light blue dressing-gown. "I am afraid you
+are far from well," she said, "and have brought you a bottle of Doctor
+Dobell's tincture. If it is indigestion, you will find it a most
+excellent remedy." The ghost glared at her in fury, and began at once to
+make preparations for turning himself into a large black dog, an
+accomplishment for which he was justly renowned, and to which the family
+doctor always attributed the permanent idiocy of Lord Canterville's
+uncle, the Hon. Thomas Horton. The sound of approaching footsteps,
+however, made him hesitate in his fell purpose, so he contented himself
+with becoming faintly phosphorescent, and vanished with a deep
+churchyard groan, just as the twins had come up to him.
+
+On reaching his room he entirely broke down, and became a prey to the
+most violent agitation. The vulgarity of the twins, and the gross
+materialism of Mrs. Otis, were naturally extremely annoying, but what
+really distressed him most was that he had been unable to wear the suit
+of mail. He had hoped that even modern Americans would be thrilled by
+the sight of a Specter in armor, if for no more sensible reason, at
+least out of respect for their national poet Longfellow, over whose
+graceful and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away many a weary
+hour when the Cantervilles were up in town. Besides it was his own suit.
+He had worn it with great success at the Kenilworth tournament, and had
+been highly complimented on it by no less a person than the Virgin Queen
+herself. Yet when he had put it on, he had been completely overpowered
+by the weight of the huge breastplate and steel casque, and had fallen
+heavily on the stone pavement, barking both his knees severely, and
+bruising the knuckles of his right hand.
+
+For some days after this he was extremely ill, and hardly stirred out of
+his room at all, except to keep the blood-stain in proper repair.
+However, by taking great care of himself, he recovered, and resolved to
+make a third attempt to frighten the United States Minister and his
+family. He selected Friday, August 17th, for his appearance, and spent
+most of that day in looking over his wardrobe, ultimately deciding in
+favor of a large slouched hat with a red feather, a winding-sheet
+frilled at the wrists and neck, and a rusty dagger. Towards evening a
+violent storm of rain came on, and the wind was so high that all the
+windows and doors in the old house shook and rattled. In fact, it was
+just such weather as he loved. His plan of action was this. He was to
+make his way quietly to Washington Otis's room, gibber at him from the
+foot of the bed, and stab himself three times in the throat to the sound
+of low music. He bore Washington a special grudge, being quite aware
+that it was he who was in the habit of removing the famous Canterville
+blood-stain by means of Pinkerton's Paragon Detergent. Having reduced
+the reckless and foolhardy youth to a condition of abject terror, he
+was then to proceed to the room occupied by the United States Minister
+and his wife, and there to place a clammy hand on Mrs. Otis's forehead,
+while he hissed into her trembling husband's ear the awful secrets of
+the charnel-house. With regard to little Virginia, he had not quite made
+up his mind. She had never insulted him in any way, and was pretty and
+gentle. A few hollow groans from the wardrobe, he thought, would be more
+than sufficient, or, if that failed to wake her, he might grabble at the
+counterpane with palsy-twitching fingers. As for the twins, he was quite
+determined to teach them a lesson. The first thing to be done was, of
+course, to sit upon their chests, so as to produce the stifling
+sensation of nightmare. Then, as their beds were quite close to each
+other, to stand between them in the form of a green, icy-cold corpse,
+till they became paralyzed with fear, and finally, to throw off the
+winding-sheet, and crawl round the room, with white, bleached bones and
+one rolling eyeball in the character of "Dumb Daniel, or the Suicide's
+Skeleton," a _rôle_ in which he had on more than one occasion produced a
+great effect, and which he considered quite equal to his famous part of
+"Martin the Maniac, or the Masked Mystery."
+
+At half-past ten he heard the family going to bed. For some time he was
+disturbed by wild shrieks of laughter from the twins, who, with the
+light-hearted gayety of schoolboys, were evidently amusing themselves
+before they retired to rest, but at a quarter-past eleven all was still,
+and, as midnight sounded, he sallied forth. The owl beat against the
+window-panes, the raven croaked from the old yew-tree, and the wind
+wandered moaning round the house like a lost soul; but the Otis family
+slept unconscious of their doom, and high above the rain and storm he
+could hear the steady snoring of the Minister for the United States. He
+stepped stealthily out of the wainscoting, with an evil smile on his
+cruel, wrinkled mouth, and the moon hid her face in a cloud as he stole
+past the great oriel window, where his own arms and those of his
+murdered wife were blazoned in azure and gold. On and on he glided, like
+an evil shadow, the very darkness seeming to loathe him as he passed.
+Once he thought he heard something call, and stopped; but it was only
+the baying of a dog from the Red Farm, and he went on, muttering strange
+sixteenth century curses, and ever and anon brandishing the rusty dagger
+in the midnight air. Finally he reached the corner of the passage that
+led to luckless Washington's room. For a moment he paused there, the
+wind blowing his long gray locks about his head, and twisting into
+grotesque and fantastic folds the nameless horror of the dead man's
+shroud. Then the clock struck the quarter, and he felt the time was
+come. He chuckled to himself, and turned the corner; but no sooner had
+he done so than, with a piteous wail of terror, he fell back, and hid
+his blanched face in his long, bony hands. Right in front of him was
+standing a horrible specter, motionless as a carven image, and monstrous
+as a madman's dream! Its head was bald and burnished; its face round,
+and fat, and white; and hideous laughter seemed to have writhed its
+features into an eternal grin. From the eyes streamed rays of scarlet
+light, the mouth was a wide well of fire, and a hideous garment, like to
+his own, swathed with its silent snows the Titan form. On its breast was
+a placard with strange writing in antique characters, some scroll of
+shame it seemed, some record of wild sins, some awful calendar of crime,
+and, with its right hand, it bore aloft a falchion of gleaming steel.
+
+Never having seen a ghost before, he naturally was terribly frightened,
+and, after a second hasty glance at the awful phantom, he fled back to
+his room, tripping up in his long winding-sheet as he sped down the
+corridor, and finally dropping the rusty dagger into the Minister's
+jack-boots, where it was found in the morning by the butler. Once in the
+privacy of his own apartment, he flung himself down on a small
+pallet-bed, and hid his face under the clothes. After a time, however,
+the brave old Canterville spirit asserted itself, and he determined to
+go and speak to the other ghost as soon as it was daylight. Accordingly,
+just as the dawn was touching the hills with silver, he returned towards
+the spot where he had first laid eyes on the grisly phantom, feeling
+that, after all, two ghosts were better than one, and that, by the aid
+of his new friend, he might safely grapple with the twins. On reaching
+the spot, however, a terrible sight met his gaze. Something had
+evidently happened to the specter, for the light had entirely faded from
+its hollow eyes, the gleaming falchion had fallen from its hand, and it
+was leaning up against the wall in a strained and uncomfortable
+attitude. He rushed forward and seized it in his arms, when, to his
+horror, the head slipped off and rolled on the floor, the body assumed a
+recumbent posture, and he found himself clasping a white dimity
+bed-curtain, with a sweeping-brush, a kitchen cleaver, and a hollow
+turnip lying at his feet! Unable to understand this curious
+transformation, he clutched the placard with feverish haste, and there,
+in the gray morning light, he read these fearful words:
+
+    YE OTIS GHOSTE
+    Ye Onlie True and Originale Spook,
+    Beware of Ye Imitationes.
+    All others are counterfeite.
+
+The whole thing flashed across him. He had been tricked, foiled, and
+outwitted! The old Canterville look came into his eyes; he ground his
+toothless gums together; and, raising his withered hands high above his
+head, swore according to the picturesque phraseology of the antique
+school, that, when Chanticleer had sounded twice his merry horn, deeds
+of blood would be wrought, and murder walk abroad with silent feet.
+
+Hardly had he finished this awful oath when, from the red-tiled roof of
+a distant homestead, a cock crew. He laughed a long, low, bitter laugh,
+and waited. Hour after hour he waited, but the cock, for some strange
+reason, did not crow again. Finally, at half-past seven, the arrival of
+the housemaids made him give up his fearful vigil, and he stalked back
+to his room, thinking of his vain oath and baffled purpose. There he
+consulted several books of ancient chivalry, of which he was exceedingly
+fond, and found that, on every occasion on which this oath had been
+used, Chanticleer had always crowed a second time. "Perdition seize the
+naughty fowl," he muttered, "I have seen the day when, with my stout
+spear, I would have run him through the gorge, and made him crow for me
+an 'twere in death!" He then retired to a comfortable lead coffin, and
+stayed there till evening.
+
+
+IV
+
+The next day the ghost was very weak and tired. The terrible excitement
+of the last four weeks was beginning to have its effect. His nerves were
+completely shattered, and he started at the slightest noise. For five
+days he kept his room, and at last made up his mind to give up the point
+of the blood-stain on the library floor. If the Otis family did not
+want it, they clearly did not deserve it. They were evidently people on
+a low, material plane of existence, and quite incapable of appreciating
+the symbolic value of sensuous phenomena. The question of phantasmic
+apparitions, and the development of astral bodies, was of course quite a
+different matter, and really not under his control. It was his solemn
+duty to appear in the corridor once a week, and to gibber from the large
+oriel window on the first and third Wednesdays in every month, and he
+did not see how he could honorably escape from his obligations. It is
+quite true that his life had been very evil, but, upon the other hand,
+he was most conscientious in all things connected with the supernatural.
+For the next three Saturdays, accordingly, he traversed the corridor as
+usual between midnight and three o'clock, taking every possible
+precaution against being either heard or seen. He removed his boots,
+trod as lightly as possible on the old worm-eaten boards, wore a large
+black velvet cloak, and was careful to use the Rising Sun Lubricator for
+oiling his chains. I am bound to acknowledge that it was with a good
+deal of difficulty that he brought himself to adopt this last mode of
+protection. However, one night, while the family were at dinner, he
+slipped into Mr. Otis's bedroom and carried off the bottle. He felt a
+little humiliated at first, but afterwards was sensible enough to see
+that there was a great deal to be said for the invention, and, to a
+certain degree, it served his purpose. Still, in spite of everything he
+was not left unmolested. Strings were continually being stretched across
+the corridor, over which he tripped in the dark, and on one occasion,
+while dressed for the part of "Black Isaac, or the Huntsman of Hogley
+Woods," he met with a severe fall, through treading on a butter-slide,
+which the twins had constructed from the entrance of the Tapestry
+Chamber to the top of the oak staircase. This last insult so enraged him
+that he resolved to make one final effort to assert his dignity and
+social position, and determined to visit the insolent young Etonians the
+next night in his celebrated character of "Reckless Rupert, or the
+Headless Earl."
+
+He had not appeared in this disguise for more than seventy years; in
+fact, not since he had so frightened pretty Lady Barbara Modish by means
+of it, that she suddenly broke off her engagement with the present Lord
+Canterville's grandfather, and ran away to Gretna Green with handsome
+Jack Castletown, declaring that nothing in the world would induce her to
+marry into a family that allowed such a horrible phantom to walk up and
+down the terrace at twilight. Poor Jack was afterwards shot in a duel by
+Lord Canterville on Wandsworth Common, and Lady Barbara died of a broken
+heart at Tunbridge Wells before the year was out, so, in every way, it
+had been a great success. It was, however, an extremely difficult
+"make-up," if I may use such a theatrical expression in connection with
+one of the greatest mysteries of the supernatural, or, to employ a more
+scientific term, the higher-natural world, and it took him fully three
+hours to make his preparations. At last everything was ready, and he was
+very pleased with his appearance. The big leather riding-boots that went
+with the dress were just a little too large for him, and he could only
+find one of the two horse-pistols, but, on the whole, he was quite
+satisfied, and at a quarter-past one he glided out of the wainscoting
+and crept down the corridor. On reaching the room occupied by the twins,
+which I should mention was called the Blue Bed Chamber on account of the
+color of its hangings, he found the door just ajar. Wishing to make an
+effective entrance, he flung it wide open, when a heavy jug of water
+fell right down on him, wetting him to the skin, and just missing his
+left shoulder by a couple of inches. At the same moment he heard stifled
+shrieks of laughter proceeding from the four-post bed. The shock to his
+nervous system was so great that he fled back to his room as hard as he
+could go, and the next day he was laid up with a severe cold. The only
+thing that at all consoled him in the whole affair was the fact that he
+had not brought his head with him, for, had he done so, the consequences
+might have been very serious.
+
+He now gave up all hope of ever frightening this rude American family,
+and contented himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in
+list slippers, with a thick red muffler round his throat for fear of
+draughts, and a small arquebus, in case he should be attacked by the
+twins. The final blow he received occurred on the 19th of September. He
+had gone downstairs to the great entrance-hall feeling sure that there,
+at any rate, he would be quite unmolested, and was amusing himself by
+making satirical remarks on the large Saroni photographs of the United
+States Minister and his wife, which had now taken the place of the
+Canterville family pictures. He was simply but neatly clad in a long
+shroud, spotted with churchyard mold, had tied up his jaw with a strip
+of yellow linen, and carried a small lantern and a sexton's spade. In
+fact, he was dressed for the character of "Jonas the Graveless, or the
+Corpse-Snatcher of Chertsey Barn," one of his most remarkable
+impersonations, and one which the Cantervilles had every reason to
+remember, as it was the real origin of their quarrel with their
+neighbor, Lord Rufford. It was about a quarter-past two o'clock in the
+morning, and, as far as he could ascertain, no one was stirring. As he
+was strolling towards the library, however, to see if there were any
+traces left of the blood-stain, suddenly there leaped out on him from a
+dark corner two figures, who waved their arms wildly above their heads,
+and shrieked out "BOO!" in his ear.
+
+Seized with a panic, which, under the circumstances, was only natural,
+he rushed for the staircase, but found Washington Otis waiting for him
+there with the big garden-syringe, and being thus hemmed in by his
+enemies on every side, and driven almost to bay, he vanished into the
+great iron stove, which, fortunately for him, was not lit, and had to
+make his way home through the flues and chimneys, arriving at his own
+room in a terrible state of dirt, disorder, and despair.
+
+After this he was not seen again on any nocturnal expedition. The twins
+lay in wait for him on several occasions, and strewed the passages with
+nutshells every night to the great annoyance of their parents and the
+servants, but it was of no avail. It was quite evident that his feelings
+were so wounded that he would not appear. Mr. Otis consequently resumed
+his great work on the history of the Democratic party, on which he had
+been engaged for some years; Mrs. Otis organized a wonderful clam-bake,
+which amazed the whole county; the boys took to lacrosse, euchre, poker,
+and other American national games, and Virginia rode about the lanes on
+her pony, accompanied by the young Duke of Cheshire, who had come to
+spend the last week of his holidays at Canterville Chase. It was
+generally assumed that the ghost had gone away, and, in fact, Mr. Otis
+wrote a letter to that effect to Lord Canterville, who, in reply,
+expressed his great pleasure at the news, and sent his best
+congratulations to the Minister's worthy wife.
+
+The Otises, however, were deceived, for the ghost was still in the
+house, and though now almost an invalid, was by no means ready to let
+matters rest, particularly as he heard that among the guests was the
+young Duke of Cheshire, whose grand-uncle, Lord Francis Stilton, had
+once bet a hundred guineas with Colonel Carbury that he would play dice
+with the Canterville ghost, and was found the next morning lying on the
+floor of the card-room in such a helpless paralytic state that, though
+he lived on to a great age, he was never able to say anything again but
+"Double Sixes." The story was well known at the time, though, of course,
+out of respect to the feelings of the two noble families, every attempt
+was made to hush it up, and a full account of all the circumstances
+connected with it will be found in the third volume of Lord Tattle's
+_Recollections of the Prince Regent and his Friends_. The ghost, then,
+was naturally very anxious to show that he had not lost his influence
+over the Stiltons, with whom, indeed, he was distantly connected, his
+own first cousin having been married _en secondes noces_ to the Sieur de
+Bulkeley, from whom, as everyone knows, the Dukes of Cheshire are
+lineally descended. Accordingly, he made arrangements for appearing to
+Virginia's little lover in his celebrated impersonation of "The Vampire
+Monk, or the Bloodless Benedictine," a performance so horrible that when
+old Lady Startup saw it, which she did on one fatal New Year's Eve, in
+the year 1764, she went off into the most piercing shrieks, which
+culminated in violent apoplexy, and died in three days, after
+disinheriting the Cantervilles, who were her nearest relations, and
+leaving all her money to her London apothecary. At the last moment,
+however, his terror of the twins prevented his leaving his room, and the
+little Duke slept in peace under the great feathered canopy in the Royal
+Bedchamber, and dreamed of Virginia.
+
+
+V
+
+A few days after this, Virginia and her curly-haired cavalier went out
+riding on Brockley meadows, where she tore her habit so badly in getting
+through a hedge that, on their return home, she made up her mind to go
+up by the back staircase so as not to be seen. As she was running past
+the Tapestry Chamber, the door of which happened to be open, she fancied
+she saw someone inside, and thinking it was her mother's maid, who
+sometimes used to bring her work there, looked in to ask her to mend her
+habit. To her immense surprise, however, it was the Canterville ghost
+himself! He was sitting by the window, watching the ruined gold of the
+yellowing trees fly through the air, and the red leaves dancing madly
+down the long avenue. His head was leaning on his hand, and his whole
+attitude was one of extreme depression. Indeed, so forlorn, and so much
+out of repair did he look, that little Virginia, whose first idea had
+been to run away and lock herself in her room, was filled with pity, and
+determined to try and comfort him. So light was her footfall, and so
+deep his melancholy, that he was not aware of her presence till she
+spoke to him.
+
+"I am so sorry for you," she said, "but my brothers are going back to
+Eton to-morrow, and then, if you behave yourself, no one will annoy
+you."
+
+"It is absurd asking me to behave myself," he answered, looking round in
+astonishment at the pretty little girl who had ventured to address him,
+"quite absurd. I must rattle my chains, and groan through keyholes, and
+walk about at night, if that is what you mean. It is my only reason for
+existing."
+
+"It is no reason at all for existing, and you know you have been very
+wicked. Mrs. Umney told us, the first day we arrived here, that you had
+killed your wife."
+
+"Well, I quite admit it," said the ghost, petulantly, "but it was a
+purely family matter and concerned no one else."
+
+"It is very wrong to kill anyone," said Virginia, who at times had a
+sweet puritan gravity, caught from some old New England ancestor.
+
+"Oh, I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics! My wife was very
+plain, never had my ruffs properly starched, and knew nothing about
+cookery. Why, there was a buck I had shot in Hogley Woods, a magnificent
+pricket, and do you know how she had it sent to table? However, it is no
+matter now, for it is all over, and I don't think it was very nice of
+her brothers to starve me to death, though I did kill her."
+
+"Starve you to death? Oh, Mr. Ghost--I mean Sir Simon, are you hungry?
+I have a sandwich in my case. Would you like it?"
+
+"No, thank you, I never eat anything now; but it is very kind of you,
+all the same, and you are much nicer than the rest of your horrid, rude,
+vulgar, dishonest family."
+
+"Stop!" cried Virginia, stamping her foot, "it is you who are rude, and
+horrid, and vulgar, and as for dishonesty, you know you stole the paints
+out of my box to try and furbish up that ridiculous blood-stain in the
+library. First you took all my reds, including the vermilion, and I
+couldn't do any more sunsets, then you took the emerald-green and the
+chrome-yellow, and finally I had nothing left but indigo and Chinese
+white, and could only do moonlight scenes, which are always depressing
+to look at, and not at all easy to paint. I never told on you, though I
+was very much annoyed, and it was most ridiculous, the whole thing; for
+who ever heard of emerald-green blood?"
+
+"Well, really," said the Ghost, rather meekly, "what was I to do? It is
+a very difficult thing to get real blood nowadays, and, as your brother
+began it all with his Paragon Detergent, I certainly saw no reason why I
+should not have your paints. As for color, that is always a matter of
+taste: the Cantervilles have blue blood, for instance, the very bluest
+in England; but I know you Americans don't care for things of this
+kind."
+
+"You know nothing about it, and the best thing you can do is to emigrate
+and improve your mind. My father will be only too happy to give you a
+free passage, and though there is a heavy duty on spirits of every kind,
+there will be no difficulty about the Custom House, as the officers are
+all Democrats. Once in New York, you are sure to be a great success. I
+know lots of people there who would give a hundred thousand dollars to
+have a grandfather, and much more than that to have a family ghost."
+
+"I don't think I should like America."
+
+"I suppose because we have no ruins and no curiosities," said Virginia,
+satirically.
+
+"No ruins! no curiosities!" answered the Ghost; "you have your navy and
+your manners."
+
+"Good evening; I will go and ask papa to get the twins an extra week's
+holiday."
+
+"Please don't go, Miss Virginia," he cried; "I am so lonely and so
+unhappy, and I really don't know what to do. I want to go to sleep and I
+cannot."
+
+"That's quite absurd! You have merely to go to bed and blow out the
+candle. It is very difficult sometimes to keep awake, especially at
+church, but there is no difficulty at all about sleeping. Why, even
+babies know how to do that, and they are not very clever."
+
+"I have not slept for three hundred years," he said sadly, and
+Virginia's beautiful blue eyes opened in wonder; "for three hundred
+years I have not slept, and I am so tired."
+
+Virginia grew quite grave, and her little lips trembled like
+rose-leaves. She came towards him, and kneeling down at his side,
+looked up into his old withered face.
+
+"Poor, poor ghost," she murmured; "have you no place where you can
+sleep?"
+
+"Far away beyond the pinewoods," he answered, in a low, dreamy voice,
+"there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there
+are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale
+sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold crystal moon
+looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the
+sleepers."
+
+Virginia's eyes grew dim with tears, and she hid her face in her hands.
+
+"You mean the Garden of Death," she whispered.
+
+"Yes, death. Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth,
+with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have
+no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at
+peace. You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death's
+house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is."
+
+Virginia trembled, a cold shudder ran through her, and for a few moments
+there was silence. She felt as if she was in a terrible dream.
+
+Then the ghost spoke again, and his voice sounded like the sighing of
+the wind.
+
+"Have you ever read the old prophecy on the library window?"
+
+"Oh, often," cried the little girl, looking up; "I know it quite well.
+It is painted in curious black letters, and is difficult to read. There
+are only six lines:
+
+    "'When a golden girl can win
+    Prayer from out the lips of sin,
+    When the barren almond bears,
+    And a little child gives away its tears,
+    Then shall all the house be still
+    And peace come to Canterville.'
+
+"But I don't know what they mean."
+
+"They mean," he said, sadly, "that you must weep with me for my sins,
+because I have no tears, and pray with me for my soul, because I have no
+faith, and then, if you have always been sweet, and good, and gentle,
+the angel of death will have mercy on me. You will see fearful shapes in
+darkness, and wicked voices will whisper in your ear, but they will not
+harm you, for against the purity of a little child the powers of Hell
+cannot prevail."
+
+Virginia made no answer, and the ghost wrung his hands in wild despair
+as he looked down at her bowed golden head. Suddenly she stood up, very
+pale, and with a strange light in her eyes. "I am not afraid," she said
+firmly, "and I will ask the angel to have mercy on you."
+
+He rose from his seat with a faint cry of joy, and taking her hand bent
+over it with old-fashioned grace and kissed it. His fingers were as cold
+as ice, and his lips burned like fire, but Virginia did not falter, as
+he led her across the dusky room. On the faded green tapestry were
+broidered little huntsmen. They blew their tasseled horns and with their
+tiny hands waved to her to go back. "Go back! little Virginia," they
+cried, "go back!" but the ghost clutched her hand more tightly, and she
+shut her eyes against them. Horrible animals with lizard tails and
+goggle eyes blinked at her from the carven chimney-piece, and murmured,
+"Beware! little Virginia, beware! we may never see you again," but the
+ghost glided on more swiftly, and Virginia did not listen. When they
+reached the end of the room he stopped, and muttered some words she
+could not understand. She opened her eyes, and saw the wall slowly
+fading away like a mist, and a great black cavern in front of her. A
+bitter cold wind swept round them, and she felt something pulling at her
+dress. "Quick, quick," cried the ghost, "or it will be too late," and in
+a moment the wainscoting had closed behind them, and the Tapestry
+Chamber was empty.
+
+
+VI
+
+About ten minutes later, the bell rang for tea, and, as Virginia did not
+come down, Mrs. Otis sent up one of the footmen to tell her. After a
+little time he returned and said that he could not find Miss Virginia
+anywhere. As she was in the habit of going out to the garden every
+evening to get flowers for the dinner-table, Mrs. Otis was not at all
+alarmed at first, but when six o'clock struck, and Virginia did not
+appear, she became really agitated, and sent the boys out to look for
+her, while she herself and Mr. Otis searched every room in the house. At
+half-past six the boys came back and said that they could find no trace
+of their sister anywhere. They were all now in the greatest state of
+excitement, and did not know what to do, when Mr. Otis suddenly
+remembered that, some few days before, he had given a band of gipsies
+permission to camp in the park. He accordingly at once set off for
+Blackfell Hollow, where he knew they were, accompanied by his eldest son
+and two of the farm-servants. The little Duke of Cheshire, who was
+perfectly frantic with anxiety, begged hard to be allowed to go too, but
+Mr. Otis would not allow him, as he was afraid there might be a scuffle.
+On arriving at the spot, however, he found that the gipsies had gone,
+and it was evident that their departure had been rather sudden, as the
+fire was still burning, and some plates were lying on the grass. Having
+sent off Washington and the two men to scour the district, he ran home,
+and dispatched telegrams to all the police inspectors in the county,
+telling them to look out for a little girl who had been kidnapped by
+tramps or gipsies. He then ordered his horse to be brought round, and
+after insisting on his wife and the three boys sitting down to dinner,
+rode off down the Ascot road with a groom. He had hardly, however, gone
+a couple of miles, when he heard somebody galloping after him, and,
+looking round, saw the little Duke coming up on his pony, with his face
+very flushed, and no hat. "I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Otis," gasped out the
+boy, "but I can't eat any dinner as long as Virginia is lost. Please
+don't be angry with me; if you had let us be engaged last year, there
+would never have been all this trouble. You won't send me back, will
+you? I can't go! I won't go!"
+
+The Minister could not help smiling at the handsome young scapegrace,
+and was a good deal touched at his devotion to Virginia, so leaning down
+from his horse, he patted him kindly on the shoulders, and said, "Well,
+Cecil, if you won't go back, I suppose you must come with me, but I must
+get you a hat at Ascot."
+
+"Oh, bother my hat! I want Virginia!" cried the little Duke, laughing,
+and they galloped on to the railway station. There Mr. Otis inquired of
+the station-master if anyone answering to the description of Virginia
+had been seen on the platform, but could get no news of her. The
+station-master, however, wired up and down the line, and assured him
+that a strict watch would be kept for her, and, after having bought a
+hat for the little Duke from a linen-draper, who was just putting up his
+shutters, Mr. Otis rode off to Bexley, a village about four miles away,
+which he was told was a well-known haunt of the gipsies, as there was a
+large common next to it. Here they roused up the rural policeman, but
+could get no information from him, and, after riding all over the
+common, they turned their horses' heads homewards, and reached the Chase
+about eleven o'clock, dead-tired and almost heart-broken. They found
+Washington and the twins waiting for them at the gate-house with
+lanterns, as the avenue was very dark. Not the slightest trace of
+Virginia had been discovered. The gipsies had been caught on Brockley
+meadows, but she was not with them, and they had explained their sudden
+departure by saying that they had mistaken the date of Chorton Fair, and
+had gone off in a hurry for fear they should be late. Indeed, they had
+been quite distressed at hearing of Virginia's disappearance, as they
+were very grateful to Mr. Otis for having allowed them to camp in his
+park, and four of their number had stayed behind to help in the search.
+The carp-pond had been dragged, and the whole Chase thoroughly gone
+over, but without any result. It was evident that, for that night at any
+rate, Virginia was lost to them; and it was in a state of the deepest
+depression that Mr. Otis and the boys walked up to the house, the groom
+following behind with the two horses and the pony. In the hall they
+found a group of frightened servants, and lying on a sofa in the library
+was poor Mrs. Otis, almost out of her mind with terror and anxiety, and
+having her forehead bathed with eau de cologne by the old housekeeper.
+Mr. Otis at once insisted on her having something to eat, and ordered up
+supper for the whole party. It was a melancholy meal, as hardly anyone
+spoke, and even the twins were awestruck and subdued, as they were very
+fond of their sister. When they had finished, Mr. Otis, in spite of the
+entreaties of the little Duke, ordered them all to bed, saying that
+nothing more could be done that night, and that he would telegraph in
+the morning to Scotland Yard for some detectives to be sent down
+immediately. Just as they were passing out of the dining-room, midnight
+began to boom from the clock tower, and when the last stroke sounded
+they heard a crash and a sudden shrill cry; a dreadful peal of thunder
+shook the house, a strain of unearthly music floated through the air, a
+panel at the top of the staircase flew back with a loud noise, and out
+on the landing, looking very pale and white, with a little casket in her
+hand, stepped Virginia. In a moment they had all rushed up to her. Mrs.
+Otis clasped her passionately in her arms, the Duke smothered her with
+violent kisses, and the twins executed a wild war-dance round the group.
+
+"Good heavens! child, where have you been?" said Mr. Otis, rather
+angrily, thinking that she had been playing some foolish trick on them.
+"Cecil and I have been riding all over the country looking for you, and
+your mother has been frightened to death. You must never play these
+practical jokes any more."
+
+"Except on the ghost! except on the ghost!" shrieked the twins, as they
+capered about.
+
+"My own darling, thank God you are found; you must never leave my side
+again," murmured Mrs. Otis, as she kissed the trembling child, and
+smoothed the tangled gold of her hair.
+
+"Papa," said Virginia, quietly, "I have been with the ghost. He is dead,
+and you must come and see him. He had been very wicked, but he was
+really sorry for all that he had done, and he gave me this box of
+beautiful jewels before he died."
+
+The whole family gazed at her in mute amazement, but she was quite grave
+and serious; and, turning round, she led them through the opening in the
+wainscoting down a narrow secret corridor, Washington following with a
+lighted candle, which he had caught up from the table. Finally, they
+came to a great oak door, studded with rusty nails. When Virginia
+touched it, it swung back on its heavy hinges, and they found themselves
+in a little low room, with a vaulted ceiling, and one tiny grated
+window. Embedded in the wall was a huge iron ring, and chained to it was
+a gaunt skeleton, that was stretched out at full length on the stone
+floor, and seemed to be trying to grasp with its long fleshless fingers
+an old-fashioned trencher and ewer, that were placed just out of its
+reach. The jug had evidently been once filled with water, as it was
+covered inside with green mold. There was nothing on the trencher but a
+pile of dust. Virginia knelt down beside the skeleton, and, folding her
+little hands together, began to pray silently, while the rest of the
+party looked on in wonder at the terrible tragedy whose secret was now
+disclosed to them.
+
+"Hallo!" suddenly exclaimed one of the twins, who had been looking out
+of the window to try and discover in what wing of the house the room was
+situated. "Hallo! the old withered almond-tree has blossomed. I can see
+the flowers quite plainly in the moonlight."
+
+"God has forgiven him," said Virginia, gravely, as she rose to her feet,
+and a beautiful light seemed to illumine her face.
+
+"What an angel you are!" cried the young Duke, and he put his arm round
+her neck, and kissed her.
+
+
+VII
+
+Four days after these curious incidents, a funeral started from
+Canterville Chase at about eleven o'clock at night. The hearse was drawn
+by eight black horses, each of which carried on its head a great tuft of
+nodding ostrich-plumes, and the leaden coffin was covered by a rich
+purple pall, on which was embroidered in gold the Canterville
+coat-of-arms. By the side of the hearse and the coaches walked the
+servants with lighted torches, and the whole procession was wonderfully
+impressive. Lord Canterville was the chief mourner, having come up
+specially from Wales to attend the funeral, and sat in the first
+carriage along with little Virginia. Then came the United States
+Minister and his wife, then Washington and the three boys, and in the
+last carriage was Mrs. Umney. It was generally felt that, as she had
+been frightened by the ghost for more than fifty years of her life, she
+had a right to see the last of him. A deep grave had been dug in the
+corner of the churchyard, just under the old yew-tree, and the service
+was read in the most impressive manner by the Rev. Augustus Dampier.
+When the ceremony was over, the servants, according to an old custom
+observed in the Canterville family, extinguished their torches, and, as
+the coffin was being lowered into the grave, Virginia stepped forward,
+and laid on it a large cross made of white and pink almond-blossoms. As
+she did so, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and flooded with its
+silent silver the little churchyard, and from a distant copse a
+nightingale began to sing. She thought of the ghost's description of the
+Garden of Death, her eyes became dim with tears, and she hardly spoke a
+word during the drive home.
+
+The next morning, before Lord Canterville went up to town, Mr. Otis had
+an interview with him on the subject of the jewels the ghost had given
+to Virginia. They were perfectly magnificent, especially a certain ruby
+necklace with old Venetian setting, which was really a superb specimen
+of sixteenth-century work, and their value was so great that Mr. Otis
+felt considerable scruples about allowing his daughter to accept them.
+
+"My lord," he said, "I know that in this country mortmain is held to
+apply to trinkets as well as to land, and it is quite clear to me that
+these jewels are, or should be, heirlooms in your family. I must beg
+you, accordingly, to take them to London with you, and to regard them
+simply as a portion of your property which has been restored to you
+under certain strange conditions. As for my daughter, she is merely a
+child, and has as yet, I am glad to say, but little interest in such
+appurtenances of idle luxury. I am also informed by Mrs. Otis, who, I
+may say, is no mean authority upon Art,--having had the privilege of
+spending several winters in Boston when she was a girl,--that these gems
+are of great monetary worth, and if offered for sale would fetch a tall
+price. Under these circumstances, Lord Canterville, I feel sure that you
+will recognize how impossible it would be for me to allow them to remain
+in the possession of any member of my family; and, indeed, all such vain
+gauds and toys, however suitable or necessary to the dignity of the
+British aristocracy, would be completely out of place among those who
+have been brought up on the severe, and I believe immortal, principles
+of Republican simplicity. Perhaps I should mention that Virginia is very
+anxious that you should allow her to retain the box, as a memento of
+your unfortunate but misguided ancestor. As it is extremely old, and
+consequently a good deal out of repair, you may perhaps think fit to
+comply with her request. For my own part, I confess I am a good deal
+surprised to find a child of mine expressing sympathy with medievalism
+in any form, and can only account for it by the fact that Virginia was
+born in one of your London suburbs shortly after Mrs. Otis had returned
+from a trip to Athens."
+
+Lord Canterville listened very gravely to the worthy Minister's speech,
+pulling his gray moustache now and then to hide an involuntary smile,
+and when Mr. Otis had ended, he shook him cordially by the hand, and
+said: "My dear sir, your charming little daughter rendered my unlucky
+ancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service, and I and my family are
+much indebted to her for her marvelous courage and pluck. The jewels are
+clearly hers, and, egad, I believe that if I were heartless enough to
+take them from her, the wicked old fellow would be out of his grave in a
+fortnight, leading me the devil of a life. As for their being heirlooms,
+nothing is an heirloom that is not so mentioned in a will or legal
+document, and the existence of these jewels has been quite unknown. I
+assure you I have no more claim on them than your butler, and when Miss
+Virginia grows up, I dare say she will be pleased to have pretty things
+to wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis, that you took the furniture and
+the ghost at a valuation, and anything that belonged to the ghost passed
+at once into your possession, as, whatever activity Sir Simon may have
+shown in the corridor at night, in point of law he was really dead, and
+you acquired his property by purchase."
+
+Mr. Otis was a good deal distressed at Lord Canterville's refusal, and
+begged him to reconsider his decision, but the good-natured peer was
+quite firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his daughter to
+retain the present the ghost had given her, and when, in the spring of
+1890, the young Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen's first
+drawing-room on the occasion of her marriage her jewels were the
+universal theme of admiration. For Virginia received the coronet, which
+is the reward of all good little American girls, and was married to her
+boy-lover as soon as he came of age. They were both so charming, and
+they loved each other so much, that everyone was delighted at the match,
+except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton, who had tried to catch the Duke
+for one of her seven unmarried daughters, and had given no less than
+three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose, and, strange to say,
+Mr. Otis himself. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young Duke
+personally, but, theoretically, he objected to titles, and, to use his
+own words, "was not without apprehension lest, amid the enervating
+influences of a pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles of
+Republican simplicity should be forgotten." His objections, however,
+were completely over-ruled, and I believe that when he walked up the
+aisle of St. George's, Hanover Square, with his daughter leaning on his
+arm, there was not a prouder man in the whole length and breadth of
+England.
+
+The Duke and Duchess, after the honeymoon was over, went down to
+Canterville Chase, and on the day after their arrival they walked over
+in the afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pinewoods. There had
+been a great deal of difficulty at first about the inscription on Sir
+Simon's tombstone, but finally it had been decided to engrave on it
+simply the initials of the old gentleman's name, and the verse from the
+library window. The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses,
+which she strewed upon the grave, and after they had stood by it for
+some time they strolled into the ruined chancel of the old abbey. There
+the Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while her husband lay at her
+feet smoking a cigarette and looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly
+he threw his cigarette away, took hold of her hand, and said to her,
+"Virginia, a wife should have no secrets from her husband."
+
+"Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you."
+
+"Yes, you have," he answered, smiling, "you have never told me what
+happened to you when you were locked up with the ghost."
+
+"I have never told anyone, Cecil," said Virginia, gravely.
+
+"I know that, but you might tell me."
+
+"Please don't ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I owe
+him a great deal. Yes, don't laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see
+what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than
+both."
+
+The Duke rose and kissed his wife lovingly.
+
+"You can have your secret as long as I have your heart," he murmured.
+
+"You have always had that, Cecil."
+
+"And you will tell our children some day, won't you?"
+
+Virginia blushed.
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST-EXTINGUISHER
+
+BY GELETT BURGESS
+
+From the _Cosmopolitan Magazine_, April, 1905. By permission of John
+Brisben Walker and Gelett Burgess.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost-Extinguisher
+
+BY GELETT BURGESS
+
+
+My attention was first called to the possibility of manufacturing a
+practicable ghost-extinguisher by a real-estate agent in San Francisco.
+
+"There's one thing," he said, "that affects city property here in a
+curious way. You know we have a good many murders, and, as a
+consequence, certain houses attain a very sensational and undesirable
+reputation. These houses it is almost impossible to let; you can
+scarcely get a decent family to occupy them rent-free. Then we have a
+great many places said to be haunted. These were dead timber on my hands
+until I happened to notice that the Japanese have no objections to
+spooks. Now, whenever I have such a building to rent, I let it to Japs
+at a nominal figure, and after they've taken the curse off, I raise the
+rent, the Japs move out, the place is renovated, and in the market
+again."
+
+The subject interested me, for I am not only a scientist, but a
+speculative philosopher as well. The investigation of those phenomena
+that lie upon the threshold of the great unknown has always been my
+favorite field of research. I believed, even then, that the Oriental
+mind, working along different lines than those which we pursue, has
+attained knowledge that we know little of. Thinking, therefore, that
+these Japs might have some secret inherited from their misty past, I
+examined into the matter.
+
+I shall not trouble you with a narration of the incidents which led up
+to my acquaintance with Hoku Yamanochi. Suffice it to say that I found
+in him a friend who was willing to share with me his whole lore of
+quasi-science. I call it this advisedly, for science, as we Occidentals
+use the term, has to do only with the laws of matter and sensation; our
+scientific men, in fact, recognize the existence of nothing else. The
+Buddhistic philosophy, however, goes further.
+
+According to its theories, the soul is sevenfold, consisting of
+different shells or envelopes--something like an onion--which are shed
+as life passes from the material to the spiritual state. The first, or
+lowest, of these is the corporeal body, which, after death, decays and
+perishes. Next comes the vital principle, which, departing from the
+body, dissipates itself like an odor, and is lost. Less gross than this
+is the astral body, which, although immaterial, yet lies near to the
+consistency of matter. This astral shape, released from the body at
+death, remains for a while in its earthly environment, still preserving
+more or less definitely the imprint of the form which it inhabited.
+
+It is this relic of a past material personality, this outworn shell,
+that appears, when galvanized into an appearance of life, partly
+materialized, as a ghost. It is not the soul that returns, for the soul,
+which is immortal, is composed of the four higher spiritual essences
+that surround the ego, and are carried on into the next life. These
+astral bodies, therefore, fail to terrify the Buddhists, who know them
+only as shadows, with no real volition. The Japs, in point of fact, have
+learned how to exterminate them.
+
+There is a certain powder, Hoku informed me, which, when burnt in their
+presence, transforms them from the rarefied, or semi-spiritual,
+condition to the state of matter. The ghost, so to speak, is
+precipitated into and becomes a material shape which can easily be
+disposed of. In this state it is confined and allowed to disintegrate
+slowly where it can cause no further annoyance.
+
+This long-winded explanation piqued my curiosity, which was not to be
+satisfied until I had seen the Japanese method applied. It was not long
+before I had an opportunity. A particularly revolting murder having been
+committed in San Francisco, my friend Hoku Yamanochi applied for the
+house, and, after the police had finished their examination, he was
+permitted to occupy it for a half-year at the ridiculous price of three
+dollars a month. He invited me to share his quarters, which were large
+and luxuriously furnished.
+
+For a week, nothing abnormal occurred. Then, one night, I was awakened
+by terrifying groans followed by a blood-curdling shriek which seemed
+to emerge from a large closet in my room, the scene of the late
+atrocity. I confess that I had all the covers pulled over my head and
+was shivering with horror when my Japanese friend entered, wearing a
+pair of flowered-silk pajamas. Hearing his voice, I peeped forth, to see
+him smiling reassuringly.
+
+"You some kind of very foolish fellow," he said. "I show you how to fix
+him!"
+
+He took from his pocket three conical red pastils, placed them upon a
+saucer and lighted them. Then, holding the fuming dish in one
+outstretched hand, he walked to the closed door and opened it. The
+shrieks burst out afresh, and, as I recalled the appalling details of
+the scene which had occurred in this very room only five weeks ago, I
+shuddered at his temerity. But he was quite calm.
+
+Soon, I saw the wraith-like form of the recent victim dart from the
+closet. She crawled under my bed and ran about the room, endeavoring to
+escape, but was pursued by Hoku, who waved his smoking plate with
+indefatigable patience and dexterity.
+
+At last he had her cornered, and the specter was caught behind a curtain
+of odorous fumes. Slowly the figure grew more distinct, assuming the
+consistency of a heavy vapor, shrinking somewhat in the operation. Hoku
+now hurriedly turned to me.
+
+"You hully up, bling me one pair bellows pletty quick!" he commanded.
+
+I ran into his room and brought the bellows from his fireplace. These
+he pressed flat, and then carefully inserting one toe of the ghost into
+the nozzle and opening the handles steadily, he sucked in a portion of
+the unfortunate woman's anatomy, and dexterously squirted the vapor into
+a large jar, which had been placed in the room for the purpose. Two more
+operations were necessary to withdraw the phantom completely from the
+corner and empty it into the jar. At last the transfer was effected and
+the receptacle securely stoppered and sealed.
+
+"In formeryore-time," Hoku explained to me, "old pliests sucked ghost
+with mouth and spit him to inside of vase with acculacy. Modern-time
+method more better for stomach and epiglottis."
+
+"How long will this ghost keep?" I inquired.
+
+"Oh, about four, five hundled years, maybe," was his reply. "Ghost now
+change from spilit to matter, and comes under legality of matter as
+usual science."
+
+"What are you going to do with her?" I asked.
+
+"Send him to Buddhist temple in Japan. Old pliest use him for high
+celemony," was the answer.
+
+My next desire was to obtain some of Hoku Yamanochi's ghost-powder and
+analyze it. For a while it defied my attempts, but, after many months of
+patient research, I discovered that it could be produced, in all its
+essential qualities, by means of a fusion of formaldehyde and
+hypophenyltrybrompropionic acid in an electrified vacuum. With this
+product I began a series of interesting experiments.
+
+As it became necessary for me to discover the habitat of ghosts in
+considerable numbers, I joined the American Society for Psychical
+Research, thus securing desirable information in regard to haunted
+houses. These I visited persistently, until my powder was perfected and
+had been proved efficacious for the capture of any ordinary house-broken
+phantom. For a while I contented myself with the mere sterilization of
+these specters, but, as I became surer of success, I began to attempt
+the transfer of ghosts to receptacles wherein they could be transported
+and studied at my leisure, classified and preserved for future
+reference.
+
+Hoku's bellows I soon discarded in favor of a large-sized bicycle-pump,
+and eventually I had constructed one of my own, of a pattern which
+enabled me to inhale an entire ghost at a single stroke. With this
+powerful instrument I was able to compress even an adult life-sized
+ghost into a two-quart bottle, in the neck of which a sensitive valve
+(patented) prevented the specter from emerging during process.
+
+My invention was not yet, however, quite satisfactory. While I had no
+trouble in securing ghosts of recent creation--spirits, that is, who
+were yet of almost the consistency of matter--on several of my trips
+abroad in search of material I found in old manor houses or ruined
+castles many specters so ancient that they had become highly rarefied
+and tenuous, being at times scarcely visible to the naked eye. Such
+elusive spirits are able to pass through walls and elude pursuit with
+ease. It became necessary for me to obtain some instrument by which
+their capture could be conveniently effected.
+
+The ordinary fire-extinguisher of commerce gave me the hint as to how
+the problem could be solved. One of these portable hand-instruments I
+filled with the proper chemicals. When inverted, the ingredients were
+commingled in vacuo and a vast volume of gas was liberated. This was
+collected in the reservoir provided with a rubber tube having a nozzle
+at the end. The whole apparatus being strapped upon my back, I was
+enabled to direct a stream of powerful precipitating gas in any desired
+direction, the flow being under control through the agency of a small
+stopcock. By means of this ghost-extinguisher I was enabled to pursue my
+experiments as far as I desired.
+
+So far my investigations had been purely scientific, but before long the
+commercial value of my discovery began to interest me. The ruinous
+effects of spectral visitations upon real estate induced me to realize
+some pecuniary reward from my ghost-extinguisher, and I began to
+advertise my business. By degrees, I became known as an expert in my
+original line, and my professional services were sought with as much
+confidence as those of a veterinary surgeon. I manufactured the Gerrish
+Ghost-Extinguisher in several sizes, and put it on the market, following
+this venture with the introduction of my justly celebrated Gerrish
+Ghost-Grenades. These hand-implements were made to be kept in racks
+conveniently distributed in country houses for cases of sudden
+emergency. A single grenade, hurled at any spectral form, would, in
+breaking, liberate enough formaldybrom to coagulate the most perverse
+spirit, and the resulting vapor could easily be removed from the room by
+a housemaid with a common broom.
+
+This branch of my business, however, never proved profitable, for the
+appearance of ghosts, especially in the United States, is seldom
+anticipated. Had it been possible for me to invent a preventive as well
+as a remedy, I might now be a millionaire; but there are limits even to
+modern science.
+
+Having exhausted the field at home, I visited England in the hope of
+securing customers among the country families there. To my surprise, I
+discovered that the possession of a family specter was considered as a
+permanent improvement to the property, and my offers of service in
+ridding houses of ghostly tenants awakened the liveliest resentment. As
+a layer of ghosts I was much lower in the social scale than a layer of
+carpets.
+
+Disappointed and discouraged, I returned home to make a further study of
+the opportunities of my invention. I had, it seemed, exhausted the
+possibilities of the use of unwelcome phantoms. Could I not, I thought,
+derive a revenue from the traffic in desirable specters? I decided to
+renew my investigations.
+
+The nebulous spirits preserved in my laboratory, which I had graded and
+classified, were, you will remember, in a state of suspended animation.
+They were, virtually, embalmed apparitions, their inevitable decay
+delayed, rather than prevented. The assorted ghosts that I had now
+preserved in hermetically sealed tins were thus in a state of unstable
+equilibrium. The tins once opened and the vapor allowed to dissipate,
+the original astral body would in time be reconstructed and the
+warmed-over specter would continue its previous career. But this
+process, when naturally performed, took years. The interval was quite
+too long for the phantom to be handled in any commercial way. My problem
+was, therefore, to produce from my tinned Essence of Ghost a specter
+that was capable of immediately going into business and that could haunt
+a house while you wait.
+
+It was not until radium was discovered that I approached the solution of
+my great problem, and even then months of indefatigable labor were
+necessary before the process was perfected. It has now been well
+demonstrated that the emanations of radiant energy sent forth by this
+surprising element defy our former scientific conceptions of the
+constitution of matter. It was for me to prove that the vibratory
+activity of radium (whose amplitudes and intensity are undoubtedly
+four-dimensional) effects a sort of allotropic modification in the
+particles of that imponderable ether which seems to lie halfway between
+matter and pure spirit. This is as far as I need to go in my
+explanation, for a full discussion involves the use of quaternions and
+the method of least squares. It will be sufficient for the layman to
+know that my preserved phantoms, rendered radio-active, would, upon
+contact with the air, resume their spectral shape.
+
+The possible extension of my business now was enormous, limited only by
+the difficulty in collecting the necessary stock. It was by this time
+almost as difficult to get ghosts as it was to get radium. Finding that
+a part of my stock had spoiled, I was now possessed of only a few dozen
+cans of apparitions, many of these being of inferior quality. I
+immediately set about replenishing my raw material. It was not enough
+for me to pick up a ghost here and there, as one might get old mahogany;
+I determined to procure my phantoms in wholesale lots.
+
+Accident favored my design. In an old volume of _Blackwood's Magazine_ I
+happened, one day, to come across an interesting article upon the battle
+of Waterloo. It mentioned, incidentally, a legend to the effect that
+every year, upon the anniversary of the celebrated victory, spectral
+squadrons had been seen by the peasants charging battalions of ghostly
+grenadiers. Here was my opportunity.
+
+I made elaborate preparations for the capture of this job lot of
+phantoms upon the next anniversary of the fight. Hard by the fatal ditch
+which engulfed Napoleon's cavalry I stationed a corps of able
+assistants provided with rapid-fire extinguishers ready to enfilade the
+famous sunken road. I stationed myself with a No. 4 model magazine-hose,
+with a four-inch nozzle, directly in the path which I knew would be
+taken by the advancing squadron.
+
+It was a fine, clear night, lighted, at first, by a slice of new moon;
+but later, dark, except for the pale illumination of the stars. I have
+seen many ghosts in my time--ghosts in garden and garret, at noon, at
+dusk, at dawn, phantoms fanciful, and specters sad and spectacular--but
+never have I seen such an impressive sight as this nocturnal charge of
+cuirassiers, galloping in goblin glory to their time-honored doom. From
+afar the French reserves presented the appearance of a nebulous mass,
+like a low-lying cloud or fog-bank, faintly luminous, shot with
+fluorescent gleams. As the squadron drew nearer in its desperate charge,
+the separate forms of the troopers shaped themselves, and the galloping
+guardsmen grew ghastly with supernatural splendor.
+
+Although I knew them to be immaterial and without mass or weight, I was
+terrified at their approach, fearing to be swept under the hoofs of the
+nightmares they rode. Like one in a dream, I started to run, but in
+another instant they were upon me, and I turned on my stream of
+formaldybrom. Then I was overwhelmed in a cloud-burst of wild warlike
+wraiths.
+
+The column swept past me, over the bank, plunging to its historic fate.
+The cut was piled full of frenzied, scrambling specters, as rank after
+rank swept down into the horrid gut. At last the ditch swarmed full of
+writhing forms and the carnage was dire.
+
+My assistants with the extinguishers stood firm, and although almost
+unnerved by the sight, they summoned their courage, and directed
+simultaneous streams of formaldybrom into the struggling mass of
+fantoms. As soon as my mind returned, I busied myself with the huge
+tanks I had prepared for use as receivers. These were fitted with a
+mechanism similar to that employed in portable forges, by which the
+heavy vapor was sucked off. Luckily the night was calm, and I was
+enabled to fill a dozen cylinders with the precipitated ghosts. The
+segregation of individual forms was, of course, impossible, so that men
+and horses were mingled in a horrible mixture of fricasseed spirits. I
+intended subsequently to empty the soup into a large reservoir and allow
+the separate specters to reform according to the laws of spiritual
+cohesion.
+
+Circumstances, however, prevented my ever accomplishing this result. I
+returned home, to find awaiting me an order so large and important that
+I had no time in which to operate upon my cylinders of cavalry.
+
+My patron was the proprietor of a new sanatorium for nervous invalids,
+located near some medicinal springs in the Catskills. His building was
+unfortunately located, having been built upon the site of a once-famous
+summer hotel, which, while filled with guests, had burnt to the ground,
+scores of lives having been lost. Just before the patients were to be
+installed in the new structure, it was found that the place was haunted
+by the victims of the conflagration to a degree that rendered it
+inconvenient as a health resort. My professional services were
+requested, therefore, to render the building a fitting abode for
+convalescents. I wrote to the proprietor, fixing my charge at five
+thousand dollars. As my usual rate was one hundred dollars per ghost,
+and over a hundred lives were lost at the fire, I considered this price
+reasonable, and my offer was accepted.
+
+The sanatorium job was finished in a week. I secured one hundred and two
+superior spectral specimens, and upon my return to the laboratory, put
+them up in heavily embossed tins with attractive labels in colors.
+
+My delight at the outcome of this business was, however, soon
+transformed to anger and indignation. The proprietor of the health
+resort, having found that the specters from his place had been sold,
+claimed a rebate upon the contract price equal to the value of the
+modified ghosts transferred to my possession. This, of course, I could
+not allow. I wrote, demanding immediate payment according to our
+agreement, and this was peremptorily refused. The manager's letter was
+insulting in the extreme. The Pied Piper of Hamelin was not worse
+treated than I felt myself to be; so, like the piper, I determined to
+have my revenge.
+
+I got out the twelve tanks of Waterloo ghost-hash from the storerooms,
+and treated them with radium for two days. These I shipped to the
+Catskills billed as hydrogen gas. Then, accompanied by two trustworthy
+assistants, I went to the sanatorium and preferred my demand for payment
+in person. I was ejected with contumely. Before my hasty exit, however,
+I had the satisfaction of noticing that the building was filled with
+patients. Languid ladies were seated in wicker chairs upon the piazzas,
+and frail anemic girls filled the corridors. It was a hospital of
+nervous wrecks whom the slightest disturbance would throw into a panic.
+I suppressed all my finer feelings of mercy and kindness and smiled
+grimly as I walked back to the village.
+
+That night was black and lowering, fitting weather for the pandemonium I
+was about to turn loose. At ten o'clock, I loaded a wagon with the tanks
+of compressed cohorts, and, muffled in heavy overcoats, we drove to the
+sanatorium. All was silent as we approached; all was dark. The wagon
+concealed in a grove of pines, we took out the tanks one by one, and
+placed them beneath the ground-floor windows. The sashes were easily
+forced open, and raised enough to enable us to insert the rubber tubes
+connected with the iron reservoirs. At midnight everything was ready.
+
+I gave the word, and my assistants ran from tank to tank, opening the
+stopcocks. With a hiss as of escaping steam the huge vessels emptied
+themselves, vomiting forth clouds of vapor, which, upon contact with the
+air, coagulated into strange shapes as the white of an egg does when
+dropped into boiling water. The rooms became instantly filled with
+dismembered shades of men and horses seeking wildly to unite themselves
+with their proper parts.
+
+Legs ran down the corridors, seeking their respective trunks, arms
+writhed wildly reaching for missing bodies, heads rolled hither and yon
+in search of native necks. Horses' tails and hoofs whisked and hurried
+in quest of equine ownership until, reorganized, the spectral steeds
+galloped about to find their riders.
+
+Had it been possible, I would have stopped this riot of wraiths long ere
+this, for it was more awful than I had anticipated, but it was already
+too late. Cowering in the garden, I began to hear the screams of
+awakened and distracted patients. In another moment, the front door of
+the hotel was burst open, and a mob of hysterical women in expensive
+nightgowns rushed out upon the lawn, and huddled in shrieking groups.
+
+I fled into the night.
+
+I fled, but Napoleon's men fled with me. Compelled by I know not what
+fatal astral attraction, perhaps the subtle affinity of the creature for
+the creator, the spectral shells, moved by some mysterious mechanics of
+spiritual being, pursued me with fatuous fury. I sought refuge, first,
+in my laboratory, but, even as I approached, a lurid glare foretold me
+of its destruction. As I drew nearer, the whole ghost-factory was seen
+to be in flames; every moment crackling reports were heard, as the
+over-heated tins of phantasmagoria exploded and threw their supernatural
+contents upon the night. These liberated ghosts joined the army of
+Napoleon's outraged warriors, and turned upon me. There was not enough
+formaldybrom in all the world to quench their fierce energy. There was
+no place in all the world safe for me from their visitation. No
+ghost-extinguisher was powerful enough to lay the host of spirits that
+haunted me henceforth, and I had neither time nor money left with which
+to construct new Gatling quick-firing tanks.
+
+It is little comfort to me to know that one hundred nervous invalids
+were completely restored to health by means of the terrific shock which
+I administered.
+
+
+
+
+"DEY AIN'T NO GHOSTS"
+
+BY ELLIS PARKER BUTLER
+
+From the _Century Magazine_, November, 1911. By permission of the
+Century Company and Ellis Parker Butler.
+
+
+
+
+"Dey Ain't No Ghosts"
+
+BY ELLIS PARKER BUTLER
+
+
+Once 'pon a time dey was a li'l' black boy whut he name was Mose. An'
+whin he come erlong to be 'bout knee-high to a mewel, he 'gin to git
+powerful 'fraid ob ghosts, 'ca'se dat am sure a mighty ghostly location
+whut he lib' in, 'ca'se dey 's a grabeyard in de hollow, an' a
+buryin'-ground on de hill, an' a cemuntary in betwixt an' between, an'
+dey ain't nuffin' but trees nowhar excipt in de clearin' by de shanty
+an' down de hollow whar de pumpkin-patch am.
+
+An' whin de night come erlong, dey ain't no sounds _at_ all whut kin be
+heard in dat locality but de rain-doves, whut mourn out,
+"Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" jes dat trembulous _an'_ scary, an' de owls, whut mourn
+out, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" more trembulous an' scary dan dat, an' de
+wind, whut mourn out, "You-_you_-o-o-o!" mos' scandalous' trembulous an'
+scary ob all. Dat a powerful onpleasant locality for a li'l' black boy
+whut he name was Mose.
+
+'Ca'se dat li'l' black boy he so specially black he can't be seen in de
+dark _at_ all 'cept by de whites ob he eyes. So whin he go' outen de
+house _at_ night, he ain't dast shut he eyes, 'ca'se den ain't nobody
+can see him in de least. He jes as invidsible as nuffin'. An' who know'
+but whut a great, big ghost bump right into him 'ca'se it can't see him?
+An' dat shore w'u'd scare dat li'l' black boy powerful' bad, 'ca'se
+yever'body knows whut a cold, damp pussonality a ghost is.
+
+So whin dat li'l' black Mose go' outen de shanty at night, he keep' he
+eyes wide open, you may be shore. By day he eyes 'bout de size ob
+butter-pats, an' come sundown he eyes 'bout de size ob saucers; but whin
+he go' outen de shanty at night, he eyes am de size ob de white chiny
+plate whut set on de mantel; an' it powerful' hard to keep eyes whut am
+de size ob dat from a-winkin' an' a-blinkin'.
+
+So whin Hallowe'en come' erlong, dat li'l' black Mose he jes mek' up he
+mind he ain't gwine outen he shack _at_ all. He cogitate he gwine stay
+right snug in de shack wid he pa an' he ma, 'ca'se de rain-doves tek
+notice dat de ghosts are philanderin' roun' de country, 'ca'se dey mourn
+out, "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owls dey mourn out, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!"
+an' de wind mourn out, "You-_you_-o-o-o!" De eyes ob dat li'l' black
+Mose dey as big as de white chiny plate whut set on de mantel by side de
+clock, an' de sun jes a-settin'.
+
+So dat all right. Li'l' black Mose he scrooge' back in de corner by de
+fireplace, an' he 'low' he gwine stay dere till he gwine _to_ bed. But
+byme-by Sally Ann, whut live' up de road, draps in, an' Mistah Sally
+Ann, whut is her husban', he draps in, an' Zack Badget an' de
+school-teacher whut board' at Unc' Silas Diggs's house drap in, an' a
+powerful lot ob folks drap in. An' li'l' black Mose he seen dat gwine be
+one s'prise-party, an' he right down cheerful 'bout dat.
+
+So all dem folks shake dere hands an' 'low "Howdy," an' some ob dem say:
+"Why, dere's li'l' Mose! Howdy, li'l' Mose?" An' he so please' he jes
+grin' an' grin', 'ca'se he ain't reckon whut gwine happen. So byme-by
+Sally Ann, whut live up de road, she say', "Ain't no sort o' Hallowe'en
+lest we got a jack-o'-lantern." An' de school-teacher, whut board at
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she 'low', "Hallowe'en jes no Hallowe'en _at_
+all 'thout we got a jack-o'-lantern." An' li'l' black Mose he stop'
+a-grinnin', an' he scrooge' so far back in de corner he 'mos' scrooge
+frough de wall. But dat ain't no use, 'ca'se he ma say', "Mose, go on
+down to de pumpkin-patch an' fotch a pumpkin."
+
+"I ain't want to go," say' li'l' black Mose.
+
+"Go on erlong wid yo'," say' he ma, right commandin'.
+
+"I ain't want to go," say' Mose ag'in.
+
+"Why ain't yo' want to go?" he ma ask'.
+
+"'Ca'se I's afraid ob de ghosts," say' li'l' black Mose, an' dat de
+particular truth an' no mistake.
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts," say' de school-teacher, whut board at Unc' Silas
+Diggs's house, right peart.
+
+"'Co'se dey ain't no ghosts," say' Zack Badget, whut dat 'fear'd ob
+ghosts he ain't dar' come to li'l' black Mose's house ef de
+school-teacher ain't ercompany him.
+
+"Go 'long wid your ghosts!" say li'l' black Mose's ma.
+
+"Wha' yo' pick up dat nomsense?" say' he pa. "Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' dat whut all dat s'prise-party 'low: dey ain't no ghosts. An' dey
+'low dey mus' hab a jack-o'-lantern or de fun all sp'iled. So dat li'l'
+black boy whut he name is Mose he done got to fotch a pumpkin from de
+pumpkin-patch down de hollow. So he step'outen de shanty an' he stan' on
+de doorstep twell he get' he eyes pried open as big as de bottom ob he
+ma's wash-tub, mostly, an' he say', "Dey ain't no ghosts." An' he put'
+one foot on de ground, an' dat was de fust step.
+
+An' de rain-dove say', "OO-_oo_-o-o-o!"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step.
+
+An' de owl mourn' out, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step.
+
+An' de wind sob' out, "You-_you_-o-o-o!"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he tuck one look ober he shoulder, an' he shut he
+eyes so tight dey hurt round de aidges, an' he pick' up he foots an'
+run. Yas, sah, he run' right peart fast. An' he say': "Dey ain't no
+ghosts. Dey ain't no ghosts." An' he run' erlong de paff whut lead' by
+de buryin'-ground on de hill, 'ca'se dey ain't no fince eround dat
+buryin'-ground _at_ all.
+
+No fince; jes' de big trees whut de owls an' de rain-doves sot in an'
+mourn an' sob, an' whut de wind sigh an' cry frough. An byme-by somefin'
+jes' _brush_' li'l' Mose on de arm, which mek' him run jes a bit more
+faster. An' byme-by somefin' jes brush' li'l' Mose on de cheek, which
+mek' him run erbout as fast as he can. An' byme-by somefin' grab' li'l'
+Mose by de aidge of he coat, an' he fight' an' struggle' an' cry out:
+"Dey ain't no ghosts. Dey ain't no ghosts." An' dat ain't nuffin' but de
+wild brier whut grab' him, an' dat ain't nuffin' but de leaf ob a tree
+whut brush' he cheek, an' dat ain't nuffin' but de branch ob a
+hazel-bush whut brush' he arm. But he downright scared jes de same, an'
+he ain't lose no time, 'ca'se de wind an' de owls an' de rain-doves dey
+signerfy whut ain't no good. So he scoot' past dat buryin'-ground whut
+on de hill, an' dat cemuntary whut betwixt an' between, an' dat
+grabeyard in de hollow, twell he come' to de pumpkin-patch, an' he
+rotch' down an' tek' erhold ob de bestest pumpkin whut in de patch. An'
+he right smart scared. He jes' de mostest scared li'l' black boy whut
+yever was. He ain't gwine open he eyes fo' nuffin', 'ca'se de wind go,
+"You-_you_-o-o-o!" an' de owls go, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' de
+rain-doves go, "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!"
+
+He jes speculate', "Dey ain't no ghosts," an' wish' he hair don't stand
+on ind dat way. An' he jes cogitate', "Dey ain't no ghosts," an' wish'
+he goose-pimples don't rise up dat way. An' he jes 'low', "Dey ain't no
+ghosts," an' wish' he backbone ain't all trembulous wid chills dat way.
+So he rotch' down, an' he rotch' down, twell he git' a good hold on dat
+pricklesome stem of dat bestest pumpkin whut in de patch, an' he jes
+yank' dat stem wid all he might.
+
+"_Let loosen my head!_" say' a big voice all on a suddent.
+
+Dat li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose he jump' 'most outen he skin.
+He open' he eyes, an' he 'gin to shake like de aspen-tree, 'ca'se whut
+dat a-standin' right dar behint him but a 'mendjous big ghost! Yas, sah,
+dat de bigges', whites' ghost whut yever was. An' it ain't got no head.
+Ain't got no head _at_ all! Li'l' black Mose he jes drap' on he knees
+an' he beg' an' pray':
+
+"Oh, 'scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost!" he beg'. "Ah ain't mean no
+harm _at_ all."
+
+"Whut for you try to take my head?" ask' de ghost in dat fearsome voice
+whut like de damp wind outen de cellar.
+
+"'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" beg' li'l' Mose. "Ah ain't know dat was yo'
+head, an' I ain't know you was dar _at_ all. 'Scuse me!"
+
+"Ah 'scuse you ef you do me dis favor," say' de ghost. "Ah got somefin'
+powerful _im_portant to say unto you, an' Ah can't say hit 'ca'se Ah
+ain't got no head; an' whin Ah ain't got no head, Ah ain't got no mouf,
+an' whin Ah ain't got no mouf, Ah can't talk _at_ all."
+
+An' dat right logical fo' shore. Can't nobody talk whin he ain't got no
+mouf, an' can't nobody have no mouf whin he ain't got no head, an' whin
+li'l' black Mose he look', he see' dat ghost ain't got no head _at_ all.
+Nary head.
+
+So de ghost say':
+
+"Ah come on down yere fo' to git a pumpkin fo' a head, an' Ah pick' dat
+_ixact_ pumpkin whut yo' gwine tek, an' Ah don't like dat one bit. No,
+sah. Ah feel like Ah pick yo' up an' carry yo' away, an' nobody see you
+no more for yever. But Ah got somefin' powerful _im_portant to say unto
+yo', an' if yo' pick up dat pumpkin an' sot it on de place whar my head
+ought to be, Ah let you off dis time, 'ca'se Ah ain't been able to talk
+fo' so long Ah right hongry to say somefin'."
+
+So li'l' black Mose he heft up dat pumpkin, an' de ghost he bend' down,
+an' li'l' black Mose he sot dat pumpkin on dat ghostses neck. An' right
+off dat pumpkin head 'gin' to wink an' blink like a jack-o'-lantern, an'
+right off dat pumpkin head 'gin' to glimmer an' glow frough de mouf like
+a jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat ghost start' to speak. Yas, sah,
+dass so.
+
+"Whut yo' want to say unto me?" _in_quire' li'l' black Mose.
+
+"Ah want to tell yo'," say' de ghost, "dat yo' ain't need yever be
+skeered of ghosts, 'ca'se dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' whin he say dat, de ghost jes vanish' away like de smoke in July. He
+ain't even linger round dat locality like de smoke in Yoctober. He jes
+dissipate' outen de air, an' he gone _in_tirely.
+
+So li'l' Mose he grab' up de nex' bestest pumpkin an' he scoot'. An'
+whin he come' to de grabeyard in de hollow, he goin' erlong same as
+yever, on'y faster, whin he reckon' he'll pick up a club _in_ case he
+gwine have trouble. An' he rotch' down an' rotch' down an' tek' hold of
+a likely appearin' hunk o' wood whut right dar. An' whin he grab' dat
+hunk of wood----
+
+"_Let loosen my leg!_" say' a big voice all on a suddent.
+
+Dat li'l' black boy 'most jump' outen he skin, 'ca'se right dar in de
+paff is six 'mendjus big ghostes an' de bigges' ain't got but one leg.
+So li'l' black Mose jes natchully handed dat hunk of wood to dat bigges'
+ghost, an' he say':
+
+"'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost; Ah ain't know dis your leg."
+
+An' whut dem six ghostes do but stand round an' confabulate? Yas, sah,
+dass so. An' whin dey do so, one say':
+
+"'Pears like dis a mighty likely li'l' black boy. Whut we gwine do fo'
+to _re_ward him fo' politeness?"
+
+An' annuder say':
+
+"Tell him whut de truth is 'bout ghostes."
+
+So de bigges' ghost he say':
+
+"Ah gwine tell yo' somefin' _im_portant whut yever'body don't know: Dey
+_ain't_ no ghosts."
+
+An' whin he say' dat, de ghostes jes natchully vanish away, an' li'l'
+black Mose he proceed' up de paff. He so scared he hair jes yank' at de
+roots, an' whin de wind go', "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owl go',
+"Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' de rain-doves go, "You-_you_-o-o-o-!" he jes
+tremble' an' shake'. An' byme-by he come' to de cemuntary whut betwixt
+an' between, an' he shore is mighty skeered, 'ca'se dey is a whole
+comp'ny of ghostes lined up along de road, an' he 'low' he ain't gwine
+spind no more time palaverin' wid ghostes. So he step' offen de road fo'
+to go round erbout, an' he step' on a pine-stump whut lay right dar.
+
+"_Git offen my chest!_" say' a big voice all on a suddent, 'ca'se dat
+stump am been selected by de captain ob de ghostes for to be he chest,
+'ca'se he ain't got no chest betwixt he shoulders an' he legs. An' li'l'
+black Mose he hop' offen dat stump right peart. Yes, _sah_; right peart.
+
+"'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" dat li'l' black Mose beg' an' plead', an' de
+ghostes ain't know whuther to eat him all up or not, 'ca'se he step on
+de boss ghostes's chest dat a-way. But byme-by they 'low they let him go
+'ca'se dat was an accident, an' de captain ghost he say', "Mose, you
+Mose, Ah gwine let you off dis time, 'ca'se you ain't nuffin' but a
+misabul li'l' tremblin' nigger; but Ah want you should _re_mimimber one
+thing mos' particular'."
+
+"Ya-yas, sah," say' dat li'l' black boy; "Ah'll remimber. Whut is dat Ah
+got to remimber?"
+
+De captain ghost he swell' up, an' he swell' up, twell he as big as a
+house, an' he say' in a voice whut shake' de ground:
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+So li'l' black Mose he bound to remimber dat, an' he rise' up an' mek' a
+bow, an' he proceed' toward home right libely. He do, indeed.
+
+An' he gwine along jes as fast as he kin, whin he come' to de aidge ob
+de buryin'-ground whut on de hill, an' right dar he bound to stop,
+'ca'se de kentry round about am so populate' he ain't able to go frough.
+Yas, sah, seem' like all de ghostes in de world habin' a conferince
+right dar. Seem' like all de ghosteses whut yever was am havin' a
+convintion on dat spot. An' dat li'l' black Mose so skeered he jes fall'
+down on a' old log whut dar an' screech' an' moan'. An' all on a suddent
+de log up and spoke:
+
+"_Get offen me! Get offen me!_" yell' dat log.
+
+So li'l' black Mose he git' offen dat log, an' no mistake.
+
+An' soon as he git' offen de log, de log uprise, an' li'l' black Mose he
+see' dat dat log am de king ob all de ghostes. An' whin de king uprise,
+all de congergation crowd round li'l' black Mose, an' dey am about leben
+millium an' a few lift over. Yas, sah; dat de reg'lar annyul Hallowe'en
+convintion whut li'l' black Mose interrup'. Right dar am all de sperits
+in de world, an' all de ha'nts in de world, an' all de hobgoblins in de
+world, an' all de ghouls in de world, an' all de spicters in de world,
+an' all de ghostes in de world. An' whin dey see li'l' black Mose, dey
+all gnash dey teef an' grin' 'ca'se it gettin' erlong toward dey-all's
+lunch-time. So de king, whut he name old Skull-an'-Bones, he step' on
+top ob li'l' Mose's head, an' he say':
+
+"Gin'l'min, de convintion will come to order. De sicretary please note
+who is prisint. De firs' business whut come' before de convintion am:
+whut we gwine do to a li'l' black boy whut stip' on de king an' maul'
+all ober de king an' treat' de king dat disrespictful'."
+
+An li'l' black Mose jes moan' an' sob':
+
+"'Scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah King! Ah ain't mean no harm _at_ all."
+
+But nobody ain't pay no _at_tintion to him _at_ all, 'ca'se yevery one
+lookin' at a monstrous big ha'nt whut name Bloody Bones, whut rose up
+an' spoke.
+
+"Your Honor, Mistah King, an' gin'l'min _an_' ladies," he say', "dis am
+a right bad case ob _lasy majesty_, 'ca'se de king been step on. Whin
+yivery li'l' black boy whut choose' gwine wander round _at_ night an'
+stip on de king ob ghostes, it ain't no time for to palaver, it ain't no
+time for to prevaricate, it ain't no time for to cogitate, it ain't no
+time do nuffin' but tell de truth, an' de whole truth, an' nuffin' but
+de truth."
+
+An' all dem ghostes sicond de motion, an' dey confabulate out loud
+erbout dat, an' de noise soun' like de rain-doves goin',
+"Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owls goin', "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' de wind
+goin', "You-_you_-o-o-o!" So dat risolution am passed unanermous, an' no
+mistake.
+
+So de king ob de ghostes, whut name old Skull-an'-Bones, he place' he
+hand on de head ob li'l' black Mose, an' he hand feel like a wet rag,
+an' he say':
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' one ob de hairs whut on de head of li'l' black Mose turn' white.
+
+An' de monstrous big ha'nt whut he name Bloody Bones he lay he hand on
+de head ob li'l' black Mose, an' he hand feel like a toadstool in de
+cool ob de day, an' he say':
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li'l' black Mose turn' white.
+
+An' a heejus sperit whut he name Moldy Pa'm place' he hand on de head ob
+li'l' black Mose, an' he hand feel like de yunner side ob a lizard, an'
+he say':
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li'l' black Mose turn white
+_as_ snow.
+
+An' a perticklar bend-up hobgoblin he put' he hand on de head ob li'l'
+black Mose, an' he mek' dat same _re_mark, an' dat whole convintion ob
+ghostes an' spicters an' ha'nts an' yiver'thing, which am more 'n a
+millium, pass by so quick dey-all's hands feel lak de wind whut blow
+outen de cellar whin de day am hot, an' dey-all say, "Dey ain't no
+ghosts." Yas, sah, dey-all say dem wo'ds so fas' it soun' like de wind
+whin it moan frough de turkentine-trees whut behind de cider-priss. An'
+yivery hair whut on li'l' black Mose's head turn' white. Dat whut
+happen' whin a li'l' black boy gwine meet a ghost convintion dat-a-way.
+Dat's so he ain' gwine forgit to remimber dey ain't no ghostes. 'Ca'se
+ef a li'l' black boy gwine imaginate dey _is_ ghostes, he gwine be
+skeered in de dark. An' dat a foolish thing for to imaginate.
+
+So prisintly all de ghostes am whiff away, like de fog outen de holler
+whin de wind blow' on it, an' li'l' black Mose he ain' see no ca'se for
+to remain in dat locality no longer. He rotch' down, an' he raise' up de
+pumpkin, an' he perambulate' right quick to he ma's shack, an' he lift'
+up de latch, an' he open' de do', an' he yenter' in. An' he say':
+
+"Yere's de pumpkin."
+
+An' he ma an' he pa, an' Sally Ann, whut live up de road, an' Mistah
+Sally Ann, whut her husban', an' Zack Badget, an' de school-teacher whut
+board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, an' all de powerful lot of folks whut
+come to de doin's, dey all scrooged back in de cornder ob de shack,
+'ca'se Zack Badget he been done tell a ghost-tale, an' de rain-doves
+gwine, "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owls am gwine, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" and
+de wind it gwine, "You-_you_-o-o-o!" an' yiver'body powerful skeered.
+'Ca'se li'l' black Mose he come' a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do' jes
+whin dat ghost-tale mos' skeery, an' yiver'body gwine imaginate dat he a
+ghost a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do'. Yas, sah. So li'l' black Mose
+he turn' he white head, an' he look' roun' an' peer' roun', an' he say':
+
+"Whut you all skeered fo'?"
+
+'Ca'se ef anybody skeered, he want' to be skeered too. Dat's natural.
+But de school-teacher, whut live at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she say':
+
+"Fo' de lan's sake, we fought you was a ghost!"
+
+So li'l' black Mose he sort ob sniff an' he sort ob sneer, an' he 'low':
+
+"Huh! dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+Den he ma she powerful took back dat li'l' black Mose he gwine be so
+uppetish an' contrydict folks whut know 'rifmeticks an' algebricks an'
+gin'ral countin' widout fingers, like de school-teacher whut board at
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house knows, an' she say':
+
+"Huh! whut you know 'bout ghosts, anner ways?"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he jes kinder stan' on one foot, an' he jes kinder
+suck' he thumb, an' he jes kinder 'low':
+
+"I don't know nuffin' erbout ghosts, 'ca'se dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+So he pa gwine whop him fo' tellin' a fib 'bout dey ain' no ghosts whin
+yiver'body know' dey is ghosts; but de school-teacher, whut board at
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she tek' note de hair ob li'l' black Mose's
+head am plumb white, an' she tek' note li'l' black Mose's face am de
+color ob wood-ash, so she jes retch' one arm round dat li'l' black boy,
+an' she jes snuggle' him up, an' she say':
+
+"Honey lamb, don't you be skeered; ain' nobody gwine hurt you. How you
+know dey ain't no ghosts?"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he kinder lean' up 'g'inst de school-teacher whut
+board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, an' he 'low':
+
+"'Ca'se--'ca'se--'ca'se I met de cap'n ghost, an' I met de gin'ral
+ghost, an' I met de king ghost, an' I met all de ghostes whut yiver was
+in de whole worl', an' yivery ghost say' de same thing: 'Dey ain't no
+ghosts.' An' if de cap'n ghost an' de gin'ral ghost an' de king ghost
+an' all de ghostes in de whole worl' don't know ef dar am ghostes, who
+does?"
+
+"Das right; das right, honey lamb," say' de school-teacher. And she
+say': "I been s'picious dey ain' no ghostes dis long whiles, an' now I
+know. Ef all de ghostes say dey ain' no ghosts, dey _ain'_ no ghosts."
+
+So yiver'body 'low' dat so 'cep' Zack Badget, whut been tellin' de
+ghost-tale, an' he ain' gwine say "Yis" an' he ain' gwine say "No,"
+'ca'se he right sweet on de school-teacher; but he know right well he
+done seen plinty ghostes in he day. So he boun' to be sure fust. So he
+say' to li'l' black Mose:
+
+"'T ain't likely you met up wid a monstrous big ha'nt whut live' down de
+lane whut he name Bloody Bones?"
+
+"Yas," say' li'l' black Mose; "I done met up wid him."
+
+"An' did old Bloody Bones done tol' you dey ain' no ghosts?" say Zack
+Badget.
+
+"Yas," say' li'l' black Mose, "he done tell me perzackly dat."
+
+"Well, if _he_ tol' you dey ain't no ghosts," say' Zack Badget, "I got
+to 'low dey ain't no ghosts, 'ca'se he ain' gwine tell no lie erbout it.
+I know dat Bloody Bones ghost sence I was a piccaninny, an' I done met
+up wif him a powerful lot o' times, an' he ain't gwine tell no lie
+erbout it. Ef dat perticklar ghost say' dey ain't no ghosts, dey _ain't_
+no ghosts."
+
+So yiver'body say':
+
+"Das right; dey ain' no ghosts."
+
+An' dat mek' li'l' black Mose feel mighty good, 'ca'se he ain' lak
+ghostes. He reckon' he gwine be a heap mo' comfortable in he mind sence
+he know' dey ain' no ghosts, an' he reckon' he ain' gwine be skeered of
+nuffin' never no more. He ain' gwine min' de dark, an' he ain' gwine
+min' de rain-doves whut go', "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' he ain' gwine min' de
+owls whut go', "Who-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' he ain' gwine min' de wind whut
+go', "You-_you_-o-o-o!" nor nuffin', nohow. He gwine be brave as a lion,
+sence he know' fo' sure dey ain' no ghosts. So prisintly he ma say':
+
+"Well, time fo' a li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose to be gwine up de
+ladder to de loft to bed."
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he 'low' he gwine wait a bit. He 'low' he gwine jes
+wait a li'l' bit. He 'low' he gwine be no trouble _at_ all ef he jes
+been let wait twell he ma she gwine up de ladder to de loft to bed, too.
+So he ma she say':
+
+"Git erlong wid yo'! Whut yo' skeered ob whin dey ain't no ghosts?"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he scrooge', and he twist', an' he pucker' up de
+mouf, an' he rub' he eyes, an' prisintly he say' right low:
+
+"I ain' skeered ob ghosts whut am, 'ca'se dey ain' no ghosts."
+
+"Den whut _am_ yo' skeered ob?" ask he ma.
+
+"Nuffin," say' de li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose; "but I jes feel
+kinder oneasy 'bout de ghosts whut ain't."
+
+Jes lak white folks! Jes lak white folks!
+
+
+
+
+THE TRANSFERRED GHOST
+
+BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+From _The Lady or the Tiger? and Other Stories_. Copyright, 1884, by
+Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of the publishers.
+
+
+
+
+The Transferred Ghost
+
+BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+
+The country residence of Mr. John Hinckman was a delightful place to me,
+for many reasons. It was the abode of a genial, though somewhat
+impulsive, hospitality. It had broad, smooth-shaven lawns and towering
+oaks and elms; there were bosky shades at several points, and not far
+from the house there was a little rill spanned by a rustic bridge with
+the bark on; there were fruits and flowers, pleasant people, chess,
+billiards, rides, walks, and fishing. These were great attractions; but
+none of them, nor all of them together, would have been sufficient to
+hold me to the place very long. I had been invited for the trout season,
+but should, probably, have finished my visit early in the summer had it
+not been that upon fair days, when the grass was dry, and the sun was
+not too hot, and there was but little wind, there strolled beneath the
+lofty elms, or passed lightly through the bosky shades, the form of my
+Madeline.
+
+This lady was not, in very truth, my Madeline. She had never given
+herself to me, nor had I, in any way, acquired possession of her. But as
+I considered her possession the only sufficient reason for the
+continuance of my existence, I called her, in my reveries, mine. It may
+have been that I would not have been obliged to confine the use of this
+possessive pronoun to my reveries had I confessed the state of my
+feelings to the lady.
+
+But this was an unusually difficult thing to do. Not only did I dread,
+as almost all lovers dread, taking the step which would in an instant
+put an end to that delightful season which may be termed the
+ante-interrogatory period of love, and which might at the same time
+terminate all intercourse or connection with the object of my passion;
+but I was, also, dreadfully afraid of John Hinckman. This gentleman was
+a good friend of mine, but it would have required a bolder man than I
+was at that time to ask him for the gift of his niece, who was the head
+of his household, and, according to his own frequent statement, the main
+prop of his declining years. Had Madeline acquiesced in my general views
+on the subject, I might have felt encouraged to open the matter to Mr.
+Hinckman; but, as I said before, I had never asked her whether or not
+she would be mine. I thought of these things at all hours of the day and
+night, particularly the latter.
+
+I was lying awake one night, in the great bed in my spacious chamber,
+when, by the dim light of the new moon, which partially filled the room,
+I saw John Hinckman standing by a large chair near the door. I was very
+much surprised at this for two reasons. In the first place, my host had
+never before come into my room; and, in the second place, he had gone
+from home that morning, and had not expected to return for several days.
+It was for this reason that I had been able that evening to sit much
+later than usual with Madeline on the moonlit porch. The figure was
+certainly that of John Hinckman in his ordinary dress, but there was a
+vagueness and indistinctness about it which presently assured me that it
+was a ghost. Had the good old man been murdered? and had his spirit come
+to tell me of the deed, and to confide to me the protection of his
+dear--? My heart fluttered at what I was about to think, but at this
+instant the figure spoke.
+
+"Do you know," he said, with a countenance that indicated anxiety, "if
+Mr. Hinckman will return to-night?"
+
+I thought it well to maintain a calm exterior, and I answered:
+
+"We do not expect him."
+
+"I am glad of that," said he, sinking into the chair by which he stood.
+"During the two years and a half that I have inhabited this house, that
+man has never before been away for a single night. You can't imagine the
+relief it gives me."
+
+And as he spoke he stretched out his legs, and leaned back in the chair.
+His form became less vague, and the colors of his garments more distinct
+and evident, while an expression of gratified relief succeeded to the
+anxiety of his countenance.
+
+"Two years and a half!" I exclaimed. "I don't understand you."
+
+"It is fully that length of time," said the ghost, "since I first came
+here. Mine is not an ordinary case. But before I say anything more about
+it, let me ask you again if you are sure Mr. Hinckman will not return
+to-night."
+
+"I am as sure of it as I can be of anything," I answered. "He left
+to-day for Bristol, two hundred miles away."
+
+"Then I will go on," said the ghost, "for I am glad to have the
+opportunity of talking to someone who will listen to me; but if John
+Hinckman should come in and catch me here, I should be frightened out of
+my wits."
+
+"This is all very strange," I said, greatly puzzled by what I had heard.
+"Are you the ghost of Mr. Hinckman?"
+
+This was a bold question, but my mind was so full of other emotions that
+there seemed to be no room for that of fear.
+
+"Yes, I am his ghost," my companion replied, "and yet I have no right to
+be. And this is what makes me so uneasy, and so much afraid of him. It
+is a strange story, and, I truly believe, without precedent. Two years
+and a half ago, John Hinckman was dangerously ill in this very room. At
+one time he was so far gone that he was really believed to be dead. It
+was in consequence of too precipitate a report in regard to this matter
+that I was, at that time, appointed to be his ghost. Imagine my
+surprise and horror, sir, when, after I had accepted the position and
+assumed its responsibilities, that old man revived, became convalescent,
+and eventually regained his usual health. My situation was now one of
+extreme delicacy and embarrassment. I had no power to return to my
+original unembodiment, and I had no right to be the ghost of a man who
+was not dead. I was advised by my friends to quietly maintain my
+position, and was assured that, as John Hinckman was an elderly man, it
+could not be long before I could rightfully assume the position for
+which I had been selected. But I tell you, sir," he continued, with
+animation, "the old fellow seems as vigorous as ever, and I have no idea
+how much longer this annoying state of things will continue. I spend my
+time trying to get out of that old man's way. I must not leave this
+house, and he seems to follow me everywhere. I tell you, sir, he haunts
+me."
+
+"That is truly a queer state of things," I remarked. "But why are you
+afraid of him? He couldn't hurt you."
+
+"Of course he couldn't," said the ghost. "But his very presence is a
+shock and terror to me. Imagine, sir, how you would feel if my case were
+yours."
+
+I could not imagine such a thing at all. I simply shuddered.
+
+"And if one must be a wrongful ghost at all," the apparition continued,
+"it would be much pleasanter to be the ghost of some man other than
+John Hinckman. There is in him an irascibility of temper, accompanied
+by a facility of invective, which is seldom met with. And what would
+happen if he were to see me, and find out, as I am sure he would, how
+long and why I had inhabited his house, I can scarcely conceive. I have
+seen him in his bursts of passion; and, although he did not hurt the
+people he stormed at any more than he would hurt me, they seemed to
+shrink before him."
+
+All this I knew to be very true. Had it not been for this peculiarity of
+Mr. Hinckman, I might have been more willing to talk to him about his
+niece.
+
+"I feel sorry for you," I said, for I really began to have a sympathetic
+feeling toward this unfortunate apparition. "Your case is indeed a hard
+one. It reminds me of those persons who have had doubles, and I suppose
+a man would often be very angry indeed when he found that there was
+another being who was personating himself."
+
+"Oh! the cases are not similar at all," said the ghost. "A double or
+_doppelgänger_ lives on the earth with a man; and, being exactly like
+him, he makes all sorts of trouble, of course. It is very different with
+me. I am not here to live with Mr. Hinckman. I am here to take his
+place. Now, it would make John Hinckman very angry if he knew that.
+Don't you know it would?"
+
+I assented promptly.
+
+"Now that he is away I can be easy for a little while," continued the
+ghost; "and I am so glad to have an opportunity of talking to you. I
+have frequently come into your room, and watched you while you slept,
+but did not dare to speak to you for fear that if you talked with me Mr.
+Hinckman would hear you, and come into the room to know why you were
+talking to yourself."
+
+"But would he not hear you?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, no!" said the other: "there are times when anyone may see me, but
+no one hears me except the person to whom I address myself."
+
+"But why did you wish to speak to me?" I asked.
+
+"Because," replied the ghost, "I like occasionally to talk to people,
+and especially to someone like yourself, whose mind is so troubled and
+perturbed that you are not likely to be frightened by a visit from one
+of us. But I particularly wanted to ask you to do me a favor. There is
+every probability, so far as I can see, that John Hinckman will live a
+long time, and my situation is becoming insupportable. My great object
+at present is to get myself transferred, and I think that you may,
+perhaps, be of use to me."
+
+"Transferred!" I exclaimed. "What do you mean by that?"
+
+"What I mean," said the other, "is this: Now that I have started on my
+career I have got to be the ghost of somebody, and I want to be the
+ghost of a man who is really dead."
+
+"I should think that would be easy enough," I said. "Opportunities must
+continually occur."
+
+"Not at all! not at all!" said my companion quickly. "You have no idea
+what a rush and pressure there is for situations of this kind. Whenever
+a vacancy occurs, if I may express myself in that way, there are crowds
+of applications for the ghost-ship."
+
+"I had no idea that such a state of things existed," I said, becoming
+quite interested in the matter. "There ought to be some regular system,
+or order of precedence, by which you could all take your turns like
+customers in a barber's shop."
+
+"Oh dear, that would never do at all!" said the other. "Some of us would
+have to wait forever. There is always a great rush whenever a good
+ghost-ship offers itself--while, as you know, there are some positions
+that no one would care for. And it was in consequence of my being in too
+great a hurry on an occasion of the kind that I got myself into my
+present disagreeable predicament, and I have thought that it might be
+possible that you would help me out of it. You might know of a case
+where an opportunity for a ghost-ship was not generally expected, but
+which might present itself at any moment. If you would give me a short
+notice, I know I could arrange for a transfer."
+
+"What do you mean?" I exclaimed. "Do you want me to commit suicide? Or
+to undertake a murder for your benefit?"
+
+"Oh, no, no, no!" said the other, with a vapory smile. "I mean nothing
+of that kind. To be sure, there are lovers who are watched with
+considerable interest, such persons having been known, in moments of
+depression, to offer very desirable ghost-ships; but I did not think of
+anything of that kind in connection with you. You were the only person I
+cared to speak to, and I hoped that you might give me some information
+that would be of use; and, in return, I shall be very glad to help you
+in your love affair."
+
+"You seem to know that I have such an affair," I said.
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied the other, with a little yawn. "I could not be here
+so much as I have been without knowing all about that."
+
+There was something horrible in the idea of Madeline and myself having
+been watched by a ghost, even, perhaps, when we wandered together in the
+most delightful and bosky places. But, then, this was quite an
+exceptional ghost, and I could not have the objections to him which
+would ordinarily arise in regard to beings of his class.
+
+"I must go now," said the ghost, rising: "but I will see you somewhere
+to-morrow night. And remember--you help me, and I'll help you."
+
+I had doubts the next morning as to the propriety of telling Madeline
+anything about this interview, and soon convinced myself that I must
+keep silent on the subject. If she knew there was a ghost about the
+house, she would probably leave the place instantly. I did not mention
+the matter, and so regulated my demeanor that I am quite sure Madeline
+never suspected what had taken place. For some time I had wished that
+Mr. Hinckman would absent himself, for a day at least, from the
+premises. In such case I thought I might more easily nerve myself up to
+the point of speaking to Madeline on the subject of our future
+collateral existence; and, now that the opportunity for such speech had
+really occurred, I did not feel ready to avail myself of it. What would
+become of me if she refused me?
+
+I had an idea, however, that the lady thought that, if I were going to
+speak at all, this was the time. She must have known that certain
+sentiments were afloat within me, and she was not unreasonable in her
+wish to see the matter settled one way or the other. But I did not feel
+like taking a bold step in the dark. If she wished me to ask her to give
+herself to me, she ought to offer me some reason to suppose that she
+would make the gift. If I saw no probability of such generosity, I would
+prefer that things should remain as they were.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That evening I was sitting with Madeline in the moonlit porch. It was
+nearly ten o'clock, and ever since supper-time I had been working myself
+up to the point of making an avowal of my sentiments. I had not
+positively determined to do this, but wished gradually to reach the
+proper point, when, if the prospect looked bright, I might speak. My
+companion appeared to understand the situation--at least, I imagined
+that the nearer I came to a proposal the more she seemed to expect it.
+It was certainly a very critical and important epoch in my life. If I
+spoke, I should make myself happy or miserable forever, and if I did not
+speak I had every reason to believe that the lady would not give me
+another chance to do so.
+
+Sitting thus with Madeline, talking a little, and thinking very hard
+over these momentous matters, I looked up and saw the ghost, not a dozen
+feet away from us. He was sitting on the railing of the porch, one leg
+thrown up before him, the other dangling down as he leaned against a
+post. He was behind Madeline, but almost in front of me, as I sat facing
+the lady. It was fortunate that Madeline was looking out over the
+landscape, for I must have appeared very much startled. The ghost had
+told me that he would see me some time this night, but I did not think
+he would make his appearance when I was in the company of Madeline. If
+she should see the spirit of her uncle, I could not answer for the
+consequences. I made no exclamation, but the ghost evidently saw that I
+was troubled.
+
+"Don't be afraid," he said--"I shall not let her see me; and she cannot
+hear me speak unless I address myself to her, which I do not intend to
+do."
+
+I suppose I looked grateful.
+
+"So you need not trouble yourself about that," the ghost continued; "but
+it seems to me that you are not getting along very well with your
+affair. If I were you, I should speak out without waiting any longer.
+You will never have a better chance. You are not likely to be
+interrupted; and, so far as I can judge, the lady seems disposed to
+listen to you favorably; that is, if she ever intends to do so. There is
+no knowing when John Hinckman will go away again; certainly not this
+summer. If I were in your place, I should never dare to make love to
+Hinckman's niece if he were anywhere about the place. If he should catch
+anyone offering himself to Miss Madeline, he would then be a terrible
+man to encounter."
+
+I agreed perfectly to all this.
+
+"I cannot bear to think of him!" I ejaculated aloud.
+
+"Think of whom?" asked Madeline, turning quickly toward me.
+
+Here was an awkward situation. The long speech of the ghost, to which
+Madeline paid no attention, but which I heard with perfect distinctness,
+had made me forget myself.
+
+It was necessary to explain quickly. Of course, it would not do to admit
+that it was of her dear uncle that I was speaking; and so I mentioned
+hastily the first name I thought of.
+
+"Mr. Vilars," I said.
+
+This statement was entirely correct; for I never could bear to think of
+Mr. Vilars, who was a gentleman who had, at various times, paid much
+attention to Madeline.
+
+"It is wrong for you to speak in that way of Mr. Vilars," she said. "He
+is a remarkably well educated and sensible young man, and has very
+pleasant manners. He expects to be elected to the legislature this
+fall, and I should not be surprised if he made his mark. He will do well
+in a legislative body, for whenever Mr. Vilars has anything to say he
+knows just how and when to say it."
+
+This was spoken very quietly, and without any show of resentment, which
+was all very natural, for if Madeline thought at all favorably of me she
+could not feel displeased that I should have disagreeable emotions in
+regard to a possible rival. The concluding words contained a hint which
+I was not slow to understand. I felt very sure that if Mr. Vilars were
+in my present position he would speak quickly enough.
+
+"I know it is wrong to have such ideas about a person," I said, "but I
+cannot help it."
+
+The lady did not chide me, and after this she seemed even in a softer
+mood. As for me, I felt considerably annoyed, for I had not wished to
+admit that any thought of Mr. Vilars had ever occupied my mind.
+
+"You should not speak aloud that way," said the ghost, "or you may get
+yourself into trouble. I want to see everything go well with you,
+because then you may be disposed to help me, especially if I should
+chance to be of any assistance to you, which I hope I shall be."
+
+I longed to tell him that there was no way in which he could help me so
+much as by taking his instant departure. To make love to a young lady
+with a ghost sitting on the railing nearby, and that ghost the
+apparition of a much-dreaded uncle, the very idea of whom in such a
+position and at such a time made me tremble, was a difficult, if not an
+impossible, thing to do; but I forbore to speak, although I may have
+looked my mind.
+
+"I suppose," continued the ghost, "that you have not heard anything that
+might be of advantage to me. Of course, I am very anxious to hear; but
+if you have anything to tell me, I can wait until you are alone. I will
+come to you to-night in your room, or I will stay here until the lady
+goes away."
+
+"You need not wait here," I said; "I have nothing at all to say to you."
+
+Madeline sprang to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes ablaze.
+
+"Wait here!" she cried. "What do you suppose I am waiting for? Nothing
+to say to me indeed!--I should think so! What should you have to say to
+me?"
+
+"Madeline!" I exclaimed, stepping toward her, "let me explain."
+
+But she had gone.
+
+Here was the end of the world for me! I turned fiercely to the ghost.
+
+"Wretched existence!" I cried. "You have ruined everything. You have
+blackened my whole life. Had it not been for you----"
+
+But here my voice faltered. I could say no more.
+
+"You wrong me," said the ghost. "I have not injured you. I have tried
+only to encourage and assist you, and it is your own folly that has
+done this mischief. But do not despair. Such mistakes as these can be
+explained. Keep up a brave heart. Good-by."
+
+And he vanished from the railing like a bursting soap-bubble.
+
+I went gloomily to bed, but I saw no apparitions that night except those
+of despair and misery which my wretched thoughts called up. The words I
+had uttered had sounded to Madeline like the basest insult. Of course,
+there was only one interpretation she could put upon them.
+
+As to explaining my ejaculations, that was impossible. I thought the
+matter over and over again as I lay awake that night, and I determined
+that I would never tell Madeline the facts of the case. It would be
+better for me to suffer all my life than for her to know that the ghost
+of her uncle haunted the house. Mr. Hinckman was away, and if she knew
+of his ghost she could not be made to believe that he was not dead. She
+might not survive the shock! No, my heart could bleed, but I would never
+tell her.
+
+The next day was fine, neither too cool nor too warm; the breezes were
+gentle, and nature smiled. But there were no walks or rides with
+Madeline. She seemed to be much engaged during the day, and I saw but
+little of her. When we met at meals she was polite, but very quiet and
+reserved. She had evidently determined on a course of conduct and had
+resolved to assume that, although I had been very rude to her, she did
+not understand the import of my words. It would be quite proper, of
+course, for her not to know what I meant by my expressions of the night
+before.
+
+I was downcast and wretched, and said but little, and the only bright
+streak across the black horizon of my woe was the fact that she did not
+appear to be happy, although she affected an air of unconcern. The
+moonlit porch was deserted that evening, but wandering about the house I
+found Madeline in the library alone. She was reading, but I went in and
+sat down near her. I felt that, although I could not do so fully, I must
+in a measure explain my conduct of the night before. She listened
+quietly to a somewhat labored apology I made for the words I had used.
+
+"I have not the slightest idea what you meant," she said, "but you were
+very rude."
+
+I earnestly disclaimed any intention of rudeness, and assured her, with
+a warmth of speech that must have made some impression upon her, that
+rudeness to her would be an action impossible to me. I said a great deal
+upon the subject, and implored her to believe that if it were not for a
+certain obstacle I could speak to her so plainly that she would
+understand everything.
+
+She was silent for a time, and then she said, rather more kindly, I
+thought, than she had spoken before:
+
+"Is that obstacle in any way connected with my uncle?"
+
+"Yes," I answered, after a little hesitation, "it is, in a measure,
+connected with him."
+
+She made no answer to this, and sat looking at her book, but not
+reading. From the expression of her face, I thought she was somewhat
+softened toward me. She knew her uncle as well as I did, and she may
+have been thinking that, if he were the obstacle that prevented my
+speaking (and there were many ways in which he might be that obstacle),
+my position would be such a hard one that it would excuse some wildness
+of speech and eccentricity of manner. I saw, too, that the warmth of my
+partial explanations had had some effect on her, and I began to believe
+that it might be a good thing for me to speak my mind without delay. No
+matter how she should receive my proposition, my relations with her
+could not be worse than they had been the previous night and day, and
+there was something in her face which encouraged me to hope that she
+might forget my foolish exclamations of the evening before if I began to
+tell her my tale of love.
+
+I drew my chair a little nearer to her, and as I did so the ghost burst
+into the room from the doorway behind her. I say burst, although no door
+flew open and he made no noise. He was wildly excited, and waved his
+arms above his head. The moment I saw him, my heart fell within me. With
+the entrance of that impertinent apparition, every hope fled from me. I
+could not speak while he was in the room.
+
+I must have turned pale; and I gazed steadfastly at the ghost, almost
+without seeing Madeline, who sat between us.
+
+"Do you know," he cried, "that John Hinckman is coming up the hill? He
+will be here in fifteen minutes; and if you are doing anything in the
+way of love-making, you had better hurry it up. But this is not what I
+came to tell you. I have glorious news! At last I am transferred! Not
+forty minutes ago a Russian nobleman was murdered by the Nihilists.
+Nobody ever thought of him in connection with an immediate ghost-ship.
+My friends instantly applied for the situation for me, and obtained my
+transfer. I am off before that horrid Hinckman comes up the hill. The
+moment I reach my new position, I shall put off this hated semblance.
+Good-by. You can't imagine how glad I am to be, at last, the real ghost
+of somebody."
+
+"Oh!" I cried, rising to my feet, and stretching out my arms in utter
+wretchedness, "I would to Heaven you were mine!"
+
+"I _am_ yours," said Madeline, raising to me her tearful eyes.
+
+
+
+
+THE MUMMY'S FOOT
+
+BY THÉOPHILE GAUTIER
+
+Translated for this volume by Sara Goldman.
+
+
+
+
+The Mummy's Foot
+
+By THÉOPHILE GAUTIER
+
+
+I had sauntered idly into the shop of one of those dealers in old
+curiosities--"bric-à-brac" as they say in that Parisian _argot_, so
+absolutely unintelligible elsewhere in France.
+
+You have no doubt often glanced through the windows of some of these
+shops, which have become numerous since it is so fashionable to buy
+antique furniture, that the humblest stockbroker feels obliged to have a
+room furnished in medieval style.
+
+Something is there which belongs alike to the shop of the dealer in old
+iron, the warehouse of the merchant, the laboratory of the chemist, and
+the studio of the painter: in all these mysterious recesses, where but a
+discreet half-light filters through the shutters, the most obviously
+antique thing is the dust: the cobwebs are more genuine than the laces,
+and the old pear-tree furniture is more modern than the mahogany which
+arrived but yesterday from America.
+
+The warehouse of my dealer in bric-à-brac was a veritable Capharnaüm;
+all ages and all countries seemed to have arranged a rendezvous there;
+an Etruscan terra cotta lamp stood upon a Boule cabinet, with ebony
+panels decorated with simple filaments of inlaid copper: a duchess of
+the reign of Louis XV stretched nonchalantly her graceful feet under a
+massive Louis XIII table with heavy, spiral oaken legs, and carvings of
+intermingled flowers and grotesque figures.
+
+In a corner glittered the ornamented breastplate of a suit of
+damaskeened armor of Milan. The shelves and floor were littered with
+porcelain cupids and nymphs, Chinese monkeys, vases of pale green
+enamel, cups of Dresden and old Sèvres.
+
+Upon the denticulated shelves of sideboards, gleamed huge Japanese
+plaques, with red and blue designs outlined in gold, side by side with
+the enamels of Bernard Palissy, with serpents, frogs, and lizards in
+relief.
+
+From ransacked cabinets tumbled cascades of silvery-gleaming China silk,
+the shimmering brocade pricked into luminous beads by a slanting
+sunbeam; while portraits of every epoch smiled through their yellowed
+varnish from frames more or less tarnished.
+
+The dealer followed me watchfully through the tortuous passages winding
+between the piles of furniture, warding off with his hands the perilous
+swing of my coat tail, observing my elbows with the disquieting concern
+of an antiquarian and a usurer.
+
+He was an odd figure--this dealer; an enormous skull, smooth as a knee,
+was surrounded by a scant aureole of white hair, which, by contrast,
+emphasized the salmon-colored tint of his complexion, and gave a wrong
+impression of patriarchal benevolence, corrected, however, by the
+glittering of two small, yellow eyes which shifted in their orbits like
+two _louis d'or_ floating on quicksilver. The curve of his nose gave him
+an aquiline silhouette, which suggested the Oriental or Jewish type. His
+hands, long, slender, with prominent veins and sinews protruding like
+the strings on a violin, with nails like the claws on the membraneous
+wings of the bat moved with a senile trembling painful to behold, but
+those nervously quivering hands became firmer than pincers of steel, or
+the claws of a lobster, when they picked up any precious object, an onyx
+cup, a Venetian glass, or a platter of Bohemian crystal. This curious
+old fellow had an air so thoroughly rabbinical and cabalistic, that,
+from mere appearance, he would have been burned at the stake three
+centuries ago.
+
+"Will you not buy something from me to-day, sir? Here is a kris from
+Malay, with a blade which undulates like a flame; look at these grooves
+for the blood to drip from, these teeth reversed so as to tear out the
+entrails in withdrawing the weapon; it is a fine specimen of a ferocious
+weapon, and will be an interesting addition to your trophies; this
+two-handed sword is very beautiful--it is the work of Joseph de la Herz;
+and this _cauchelimarde_ with its carved guard--what superb
+workmanship!"
+
+"No, I have enough weapons and instruments of carnage; I should like to
+have a small figure, any sort of object which can be used for a paper
+weight; for I cannot endure those commonplace bronzes for sale at the
+stationers which one sees invariably on everybody's desk."
+
+The old gnome, rummaging among his ancient wares, displayed before me
+some antique bronzes--pseudo-antique, at least, fragments of malachite,
+little Hindu and Chinese idols, jade monkeys, incarnations of Brahma and
+Vishnu, marvelously suitable for the purpose--scarcely divine--of
+holding papers and letters in place.
+
+I was hesitating between a porcelain dragon covered with constellations
+of warts, its jaws embellished with teeth and tusks, and a hideous
+little Mexican fetish, representing realistically the god
+Vitziliputzili, when I noticed a charming foot, which at first I
+supposed was a fragment of some antique Venus.
+
+It had that beautiful tawny reddish tint, which gives the Florentine
+bronzes their warm, life-like appearance, so preferable to the verdigris
+tones of ordinary bronzes, which might be taken readily for statues in a
+state of putrefaction; a satiny luster gleamed over its curves, polished
+by the amorous kisses of twenty centuries; for it must have been a
+Corinthian bronze, a work of the finest period, molded perhaps by
+Lysippus himself.
+
+"That foot will do," I said to the dealer, who looked at me with an
+ironical, crafty expression, as he handed me the object I asked for, so
+that I might examine it more carefully.
+
+I was surprised at its lightness. It was not a metal foot but in reality
+a foot of flesh, an embalmed foot, a mummy's foot; on examining it more
+closely, one could distinguish the grain of the skin, and the almost
+imperceptible imprint of the weave of the wrappings. The toes were
+slender, delicate, with perfect nails, pure and transparent as agate;
+the great toe, slightly separated from the others, in the antique manner
+was in pleasing contrast to the position of the other toes, and gave a
+suggestion of the freedom and lightness of a bird's foot. The sole,
+faintly streaked with almost invisible lines, showed that it had never
+touched the ground, or come in contact with anything but the finest mats
+woven from the rushes of the Nile, and the softest rugs of panther skin.
+
+"Ha, ha! You want the foot of the Princess Hermonthis," said the dealer
+with a strange, mocking laugh, staring at me with his owlish eyes. "Ha,
+ha, ha, for a paper weight! An original idea! an artist's idea! If
+anyone had told old Pharaoh that the foot of his adored daughter would
+be used for a paper weight, particularly whilst he was having a mountain
+of granite hollowed out in which to place her triple coffin, painted and
+gilded, covered with hieroglyphics, and beautiful pictures of the
+judgment of souls, it would truly have surprised him," continued the
+queer little dealer, in low tones, as though talking to himself.
+
+"How much will you charge me for this fragment of a mummy?"
+
+"Ah, as much as I can get; for it is a superb piece; if I had the mate
+to it, you could not have it for less than five hundred francs--the
+daughter of a Pharaoh! there could be nothing more choice."
+
+"Assuredly it is not common; but, still, how much do you want for it?
+First, however, I want to acquaint you with one fact, which is, that my
+fortune consists of only five louis. I will buy anything that costs five
+louis, but nothing more expensive. You may search my vest pockets, and
+my most secret bureau drawers, but you will not find one miserable five
+franc piece besides."
+
+"Five louis for the foot of the Princess Hermonthis! It is very little,
+too little, in fact, for an authentic foot," said the dealer, shaking
+his head and rolling his eyes with a peculiar rotary motion. "Very well,
+take it, and I will throw in the outer covering," he said, rolling it in
+a shred of old damask--"very beautiful, genuine damask, which has never
+been redyed; it is strong, yet it is soft," he muttered, caressing the
+frayed tissue, in accordance with his dealer's habit of praising an
+article of so little value, that he himself thought it good for nothing
+but to give away.
+
+He dropped the gold pieces into a kind of medieval pouch which was
+fastened at his belt, while he repeated:
+
+"The foot of the Princess Hermonthis to be used for a paper weight!"
+
+Then, fastening upon me his phosphorescent pupils he said, in a voice
+strident as the wails of a cat which has just swallowed a fish bone:
+
+"Old Pharaoh will not be pleased; he loved his daughter--that dear man."
+
+"You speak of him as though you were his contemporary; no matter how old
+you may be, you do not date back to the pyramids of Egypt," I answered
+laughingly from the threshold of the shop.
+
+I returned home, delighted with my purchase.
+
+To make use of it at once, I placed the foot of the exalted Princess
+Hermonthis on a stack of papers--sketches of verses, undecipherable
+mosaics of crossed out words, unfinished articles, forgotten letters,
+posted in the desk drawer, a mistake often made by absent-minded people;
+the effect was pleasing, bizarre, and romantic.
+
+Highly delighted with this decoration, I went down into the street, and
+took a walk with all the importance and pride proper to a man who has
+the inexpressible advantage over the passersby he elbows, of possessing
+a fragment of the Princess Hermonthis, daughter of Pharaoh.
+
+I thought people who did not possess, like myself, a paper weight so
+genuinely Egyptian, were objects of ridicule, and it seemed to me the
+proper business of the sensible man to have a mummy's foot upon his
+desk.
+
+Happily, an encounter with several friends distracted me from my
+raptures over my recent acquisition, I went to dinner with them, for it
+would have been hard for me to dine alone.
+
+When I returned at night, with my brain somewhat muddled by the effects
+of a few glasses of wine, a vague whiff of oriental perfume tickled
+delicately my olfactory nerves. The heat of the room had warmed the
+natron, the bitumen, and the myrrh in which the _paraschites_ who
+embalmed the dead had bathed the body of the Princess; it was a
+delicate, yet penetrating perfume, which four thousand years had not
+been able to dissipate.
+
+The Dream of Egypt was for the Eternal; its odors have the solidity of
+granite, and last as long.
+
+In a short time I drank full draughts from the black cup of sleep; for
+an hour or two all remained in obscurity; Oblivion and Nothingness
+submerged me in their somber waves.
+
+Nevertheless the haziness of my perceptions gradually cleared away,
+dreams began to brush me lightly in their silent flight.
+
+The eyes of my soul opened, and I saw my room as it was in reality. I
+might have believed myself awake, if I had not had a vague consciousness
+that I was asleep, and that something very unusual was about to take
+place.
+
+The odor of myrrh had increased in intensity, and I had a slight
+headache, which I very naturally attributed to several glasses of
+champagne that we had drunk to unknown gods, and to our future success.
+
+I scrutinized my room with a feeling of expectation, which there was
+nothing to justify. Each piece of furniture was in its usual place; the
+lamp, softly shaded by the milky whiteness of its ground crystal globe,
+burned upon the console, the water colors glowed from under the Bohemian
+glass; the curtains hung in heavy drooping folds; everything suggested
+tranquility and slumber.
+
+Nevertheless, after a few moments the quiet of the room was disturbed,
+the woodwork creaked furtively, the ash-covered log suddenly spurted out
+a blue flame, and the surfaces of the plaques seemed like metallic eyes,
+watching, like myself, for what was about to happen.
+
+By chance my eyes fell on the table on which I had placed the foot of
+the Princess Hermonthis.
+
+Instead of remaining in the state of immobility proper to a foot which
+has been embalmed for four thousand years, it moved about in an agitated
+manner, twitching, leaping about over the papers like a frightened frog;
+one might have thought it in contact with a galvanic battery; I could
+hear distinctly the quick tap of the little heel, hard as the hoof of a
+gazelle.
+
+I became rather dissatisfied with my purchase, for I like paper weights
+of sedentary habits--besides I found it very unnatural for feet to move
+about without legs, and I began to feel something closely resembling
+fear.
+
+Suddenly I noticed a movement of one of the folds of my curtains, and I
+heard a stamping like that made by a person hopping about on one foot.
+I must admit that I grew hot and cold by turns, that I felt a mysterious
+breeze blowing down my back, and that my hair stood on end so suddenly
+that it forced my night-cap to a leap of several degrees.
+
+The curtains partly opened, and I saw the strangest figure possible
+advancing.
+
+It was a young girl, as coffee-coloured as Amani the dancer, and of a
+perfect beauty of the purest Egyptian type. She had slanting
+almond-shaped eyes, with eyebrows so black that they appeared blue; her
+nose was finely chiseled, almost Grecian in its delicacy; she might have
+been taken for a Corinthian statue of bronze, had not her prominent
+cheekbones and rather African fullness of lips indicated without a doubt
+the hieroglyphic race which dwelt on the banks of the Nile.
+
+Her arms, thin, spindle shaped, like those of very young girls, were
+encircled with a kind of metal ornament, and bracelets of glass beads;
+her hair was twisted into little cords; on her breast hung a green paste
+idol, identified by her whip of seven lashes as Isis, guide of souls--a
+golden ornament shone on her forehead, and slight traces of rouge were
+visible on the coppery tints of her cheeks.
+
+As for her costume, it was very odd.
+
+Imagine a _pagne_ made of narrow strips bedizened with red and black
+hieroglyphics, weighted with bitumen, and apparently belonging to a
+mummy newly unswathed.
+
+In one of those flights of fancy usual in dreams, I could hear the
+hoarse, rough voice of the dealer of bric-à-brac reciting in a
+monotonous refrain, the phrase he had kept repeating in his shop in so
+enigmatic a manner.
+
+"Old Pharaoh will not be pleased--he loved his daughter very much--that
+dear man."
+
+One peculiar detail, which was hardly reassuring, was that the
+apparition had but one foot, the other was broken off at the ankle.
+
+She approached the table, where the mummy's foot was fidgeting and
+tossing about with redoubled energy. She leaned against the edge, and I
+saw her eyes fill with pearly tears.
+
+Although she did not speak, I fully understood her feelings. She looked
+at the foot, for it was in truth her own, with an expression of
+coquettish sadness, which was extremely charming; but the foot kept
+jumping and running about as though it were moved by springs of steel.
+
+Two or three times she stretched out her hand to grasp it, but did not
+succeed.
+
+Then began between the Princess Hermonthis and her foot, which seemed to
+be endowed with an individuality of its own, a very bizarre dialogue, in
+an ancient Coptic tongue, such as might have been spoken thirty
+centuries before, among the sphinxes of the Land of Ser; fortunately,
+that night I understood Coptic perfectly.
+
+The Princess Hermonthis said in a tone of voice sweet and tremulous as
+the tones of a crystal bell:
+
+"Well, my dear little foot, you always flee from me, yet I took the best
+of care of you; I bathed you with perfumed water, in a basin of
+alabaster; I rubbed your heel with pumice stone, mixed with oil of palm;
+your nails were cut with golden scissors, and polished with a
+hippopotamus' tooth; I was careful to select for you painted and
+embroidered _tatbebs_, with turned up toes, which were the envy of all
+the young girls of Egypt; on your great toe, you wore rings representing
+the sacred Scarab, and you supported one of the lightest bodies that
+could be desired by a lazy foot."
+
+The foot answered in a pouting, regretful voice:
+
+"You know well that I no longer belong to myself. I have been bought and
+paid for; the old dealer knew what he was about. He bears you a grudge
+for having refused to marry him. This is a trick he has played on you.
+The Arab who forced open your royal tomb, in the subterranean pits of
+the Necropolis of Thebes, was sent there by him. He wanted to prevent
+you from attending the reunion of the shades, in the cities of the lower
+world. Have you five pieces of gold with which to ransom me?"
+
+"Alas, no! My jewels, my rings, my purses of gold and of silver have all
+been stolen from me," answered the Princess Hermonthis with a sigh.
+
+"Princess," I then cried out, "I have never kept possession of anyone's
+foot unjustly; even though you have not the five louis which it cost me,
+I will return it to you gladly; I should be wretched, were I the cause
+of the lameness of so charming a person as the Princess Hermonthis."
+
+I delivered this discourse in a courtly, troubadour-like manner, which
+must have astonished the beautiful Egyptian.
+
+She looked at me with an expression of deepest gratitude, and her eyes
+brightened with bluish lights.
+
+She took her foot, which this time submitted, and, like a woman about to
+put on her brodekin, she adjusted it to her leg with great dexterity.
+
+This operation finished, she took a few steps about the room, as though
+to assure herself that she was in reality no longer lame.
+
+"Ah, how happy my father will be, he who was so wretched because of my
+mutilation--he who, from the day of my birth, set a whole nation to work
+to hollow out a tomb so deep that he might preserve me intact until that
+supreme last day, when souls must be weighed in the scales of Amenti!
+Come with me to my father; he will be happy to receive you, for you have
+given me back my foot."
+
+I found this proposition quite natural. I decked myself out in a
+dressing-gown of huge sprawling design, which gave me an extremely
+Pharaohesque appearance; I hurriedly put on a pair of Turkish slippers,
+and told the Princess Hermonthis that I was ready to follow her.
+
+Before setting out, Hermonthis detached from her necklace the little
+green paste image and placed it on the scattered papers which strewed
+the table.
+
+"It is no more than right," she said smilingly, "that I should replace
+your paper weight."
+
+She gave me her hand, which was soft and cool as the skin of a serpent,
+and we departed.
+
+For a time we sped with the rapidity of an arrow, through a misty
+expanse of space, in which almost indistinguishable silhouettes flashed
+by us, on the right and left.
+
+For an instant we saw nothing but sea and sky.
+
+A few minutes later, towering obelisks, pillars, the sloping outlines of
+the sphinx, were designed against the horizon.
+
+We had arrived.
+
+The princess conducted me to the side of a mountain of red granite in
+which there was an aperture so low and narrow that, had it not been
+marked by two monoliths covered with bizarre carvings, it would have
+been difficult to distinguish from the fissures in the rock.
+
+Hermonthis lighted a torch and led the way.
+
+The corridors were hewn through the living rock. The walls, with panels
+covered with hieroglyphics, and representations of allegorical
+processions, must have been the work of thousands of hands for thousands
+of years; the corridors, of an interminable length, ended in square
+rooms, in the middle of which pits had been constructed, to which we
+descended by means of _crampons_ or spiral staircases. These pits led us
+into other rooms, from which opened out other corridors embellished in
+the same bizarre manner with sparrow-hawks, serpents coiled in circles,
+the symbolic tau, pedum, and baris, prodigious works which no living eye
+should ever see, interminable legends in granite which only the dead
+throughout eternity have time to read.
+
+At last we reached a hall so vast, so boundless, so immeasurable, that
+its limits could not be discerned. As far as the eye could see, extended
+files of gigantic columns, between which sparkled livid stars of yellow
+light. These glittering points of light revealed incalculable depths
+beyond.
+
+The Princess Hermonthis, still holding my hand, greeted graciously the
+mummies of her acquaintance.
+
+My eyes gradually became accustomed to the shadowy twilight, and I began
+to distinguish the objects around me.
+
+I saw, seated upon their thrones, the kings of the subterranean races.
+They were dignified old personages, or dried up, shriveled,
+wrinkled-like parchment, and blackened with naphtha and bitumen. On
+their heads they wore pschents of gold, and their breastplates and
+gorgets scintillated with precious stones; their eyes had the fixedness
+of the sphinx, and their long beards were whitened by the snows of
+centuries. Behind them stood their embalmed subjects, in the rigid and
+constrained postures of Egyptian art, preserving eternally the attitudes
+prescribed by the hieratic code. Behind the subjects, the cats, ibixes,
+and crocodiles contemporary with them, rendered still more monstrous by
+their wrappings, mewed, beat their wings, and opened and closed their
+huge jaws in foolish grimaces.
+
+All the Pharaohs were there--Cheops, Chephrenes, Psammetichus, Sesostri,
+Amenoteph, all the dark-skinned rulers of the country of the pyramids,
+and the royal sepulchers; on a still higher platform sat enthroned the
+kings Chronos, and Xixouthros, who were contemporary with the deluge,
+and Tubal-Cain, who preceded it.
+
+The beard of King Xixouthros had grown to such lengths that it had
+already wound itself seven times around the granite table against which
+he leaned, lost in reverie, as though in slumber.
+
+Further in the distance, through a dim exhalation, across the mists of
+eternities, I beheld vaguely the seventy-two pre-Adamite kings, with
+their seventy-two peoples, vanished forever.
+
+The Princess Hermonthis, after allowing me a few moments to enjoy this
+dizzying spectacle, presented me to Pharaoh, her father, who nodded to
+me in a most majestic manner.
+
+"I have found my foot--I have found my foot!" cried the Princess,
+clapping her little hands, with every indication of uncontrollable joy.
+"It was this gentleman who returned it to me."
+
+The races of Kheme, the races of Nahasi, all the races, black, bronze,
+and copper-colored, repeated in a chorus:
+
+"The Princess Hermonthis has found her foot."
+
+Xixouthros himself was deeply affected.
+
+He raised his heavy eyelids, stroked his moustache, and regarded me with
+his glance charged with the centuries.
+
+"By Oms, the dog of Hell, and by Tmei, daughter of the Sun and of Truth,
+here is a brave and worthy young man," said Pharaoh, extending toward me
+his scepter which terminated in a lotus flower. "What recompense do you
+desire?"
+
+Eagerly, with that audacity which one has in dreams, where nothing seems
+impossible, I asked him for the hand of the Princess Hermonthis. Her
+hand in exchange for her foot, seemed to me an antithetical recompense,
+in sufficiently good taste.
+
+Pharaoh opened wide his eyes of glass, surprised at my pleasantry, as
+well as my request.
+
+"From what country are you, and what is your age?"
+
+"I am a Frenchman, and I am twenty-seven years old, venerable Pharaoh."
+
+"Twenty-seven years old! And he wishes to espouse the Princess
+Hermonthis, who is thirty centuries old!" exclaimed in a chorus all the
+thrones, and all the circles of nations.
+
+Hermonthis alone did not seem to think my request improper.
+
+"If you were even two thousand years old," continued the old king, "I
+would gladly bestow upon you the Princess; but the disproportion is too
+great; besides, our daughters must have husbands who will last, and you
+no longer know how to preserve yourselves. Of the last persons who were
+brought here, scarcely fifteen centuries ago, nothing now remains but a
+pinch of ashes. Look! my flesh is as hard as basalt, my bones are bars
+of steel. I shall be present on the last day, with the body and features
+I had in life. My daughter Hermonthis will last longer than a statue of
+bronze. But at that time the winds will have dissipated the last grains
+of your dust, and Isis herself, who knew how to recover the fragments of
+Osiris, would hardly be able to recompose your being. See how vigorous I
+still am, and how powerful is the strength of my arm," said he, shaking
+my hand in the English fashion, in a way that cut my fingers with my
+rings.
+
+His grasp was so strong that I awoke, and discovered my friend Alfred,
+who was pulling me by the arm, and shaking me, to make me get up.
+
+"Oh, see here, you maddening sleeper! Must I have you dragged into the
+middle of the street, and have fireworks put off close to your ear, in
+order to waken you? It is afternoon. Don't you remember that you
+promised to call for me and take me to see the Spanish pictures of M.
+Aguada?"
+
+"Good heavens! I forgot all about it," I answered, dressing hurriedly.
+"We can go there at once--I have the permit here on my table." I crossed
+over to get it; imagine my astonishment when I saw, not the mummy's foot
+I had bought the evening before, but the little green paste image left
+in its place by the Princess Hermonthis!
+
+
+
+
+THE RIVAL GHOSTS
+
+BY BRANDER MATTHEWS
+
+From _Tales of Fantasy and Fact_, by Brander Matthews. Copyright, 1886,
+by Harper Brothers. By permission of the publishers and Brander
+Matthews.
+
+
+
+
+The Rival Ghosts
+
+BY BRANDER MATTHEWS
+
+
+The good ship sped on her way across the calm Atlantic. It was an
+outward passage, according to the little charts which the company had
+charily distributed, but most of the passengers were homeward bound,
+after a summer of rest and recreation, and they were counting the days
+before they might hope to see Fire Island Light. On the lee side of the
+boat, comfortably sheltered from the wind, and just by the door of the
+captain's room (which was theirs during the day), sat a little group of
+returning Americans. The Duchess (she was down on the purser's list as
+Mrs. Martin, but her friends and familiars called her the Duchess of
+Washington Square) and Baby Van Rensselaer (she was quite old enough to
+vote, had her sex been entitled to that duty, but as the younger of two
+sisters she was still the baby of the family)--the Duchess and Baby Van
+Rensselaer were discussing the pleasant English voice and the not
+unpleasant English accent of a manly young lordling who was going to
+America for sport. Uncle Larry and Dear Jones were enticing each other
+into a bet on the ship's run of the morrow.
+
+"I'll give you two to one she don't make 420," said Dear Jones.
+
+"I'll take it," answered Uncle Larry. "We made 427 the fifth day last
+year." It was Uncle Larry's seventeenth visit to Europe, and this was
+therefore his thirty-fourth voyage.
+
+"And when did you get in?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer. "I don't care a
+bit about the run, so long as we get in soon."
+
+"We crossed the bar Sunday night, just seven days after we left
+Queenstown, and we dropped anchor off Quarantine at three o'clock on
+Monday morning."
+
+"I hope we sha'n't do that this time. I can't seem to sleep any when the
+boat stops."
+
+"I can, but I didn't," continued Uncle Larry, "because my stateroom was
+the most for'ard in the boat, and the donkey-engine that let down the
+anchor was right over my head."
+
+"So you got up and saw the sun rise over the bay," said Dear Jones,
+"with the electric lights of the city twinkling in the distance, and the
+first faint flush of the dawn in the east just over Fort Lafayette, and
+the rosy tinge which spread softly upward, and----"
+
+"Did you both come back together?" asked the Duchess.
+
+"Because he has crossed thirty-four times you must not suppose he has a
+monopoly in sunrises," retorted Dear Jones. "No; this was my own
+sunrise; and a mighty pretty one it was too."
+
+"I'm not matching sunrises with you," remarked Uncle Larry calmly;
+"but I'm willing to back a merry jest called forth by my sunrise against
+any two merry jests called forth by yours."
+
+"I confess reluctantly that my sunrise evoked no merry jest at all."
+Dear Jones was an honest man, and would scorn to invent a merry jest on
+the spur of the moment.
+
+"That's where my sunrise has the call," said Uncle Larry, complacently.
+
+"What was the merry jest?" was Baby Van Rensselaer's inquiry, the
+natural result of a feminine curiosity thus artistically excited.
+
+"Well, here it is. I was standing aft, near a patriotic American and a
+wandering Irishman, and the patriotic American rashly declared that you
+couldn't see a sunrise like that anywhere in Europe, and this gave the
+Irishman his chance, and he said, 'Sure ye don't have'm here till we're
+through with 'em over there.'"
+
+"It is true," said Dear Jones, thoughtfully, "that they do have some
+things over there better than we do; for instance, umbrellas."
+
+"And gowns," added the Duchess.
+
+"And antiquities."--this was Uncle Larry's contribution.
+
+"And we do have some things so much better in America!" protested Baby
+Van Rensselaer, as yet uncorrupted by any worship of the effete
+monarchies of despotic Europe. "We make lots of things a great deal
+nicer than you can get them in Europe--especially ice-cream."
+
+"And pretty girls," added Dear Jones; but he did not look at her.
+
+"And spooks," remarked Uncle Larry, casually.
+
+"Spooks?" queried the Duchess.
+
+"Spooks. I maintain the word. Ghost, if you like that better, or
+specters. We turn out the best quality of spook----"
+
+"You forget the lovely ghost stories about the Rhine and the Black
+Forest," interrupted Miss Van Rensselaer, with feminine inconsistency.
+
+"I remember the Rhine and the Black Forest and all the other haunts of
+elves and fairies and hobgoblins; but for good honest spooks there is no
+place like home. And what differentiates our spook--_spiritus
+Americanus_--from the ordinary ghost of literature is that it responds
+to the American sense of humor. Take Irving's stories, for example. The
+'Headless Horseman'--that's a comic ghost story. And Rip Van
+Winkle--consider what humor, and what good humor, there is in the
+telling of his meeting with the goblin crew of Hendrik Hudson's men! A
+still better example of this American way of dealing with legend and
+mystery is the marvelous tale of the rival ghosts."
+
+"The rival ghosts!" queried the Duchess and Baby Van Rensselaer
+together. "Who were they?"
+
+"Didn't I ever tell you about them?" answered Uncle Larry, a gleam of
+approaching joy flashing from his eye.
+
+"Since he is bound to tell us sooner or later, we'd better be resigned
+and hear it now," said Dear Jones.
+
+"If you are not more eager, I won't tell it at all."
+
+"Oh, do, Uncle Larry! you know I just dote on ghost stories," pleaded
+Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Once upon a time," began Uncle Larry--"in fact, a very few years
+ago--there lived in the thriving town of New York a young American
+called Duncan--Eliphalet Duncan. Like his name, he was half Yankee and
+half Scotch, and naturally he was a lawyer, and had come to New York to
+make his way. His father was a Scotchman who had come over and settled
+in Boston and married a Salem girl. When Eliphalet Duncan was about
+twenty he lost both of his parents. His father left him enough money to
+give him a start, and a strong feeling of pride in his Scotch birth; you
+see there was a title in the family in Scotland, and although
+Eliphalet's father was the younger son of a younger son, yet he always
+remembered, and always bade his only son to remember, that this ancestry
+was noble. His mother left him her full share of Yankee grit and a
+little old house in Salem which had belonged to her family for more than
+two hundred years. She was a Hitchcock, and the Hitchcocks had been
+settled in Salem since the year 1. It was a great-great-grandfather of
+Mr. Eliphalet Hitchcock who was foremost in the time of the Salem
+witchcraft craze. And this little old house which she left to my friend,
+Eliphalet Duncan, was haunted."
+
+"By the ghost of one of the witches, of course?" interrupted Dear Jones.
+
+"Now how could it be the ghost of a witch, since the witches were all
+burned at the stake? You never heard of anybody who was burned having a
+ghost, did you?" asked Uncle Larry.
+
+"That's an argument in favor of cremation, at any rate," replied Dear
+Jones, evading the direct question.
+
+"It is, if you don't like ghosts. I do," said Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"And so do I," added Uncle Larry. "I love a ghost as dearly as an
+Englishman loves a lord."
+
+"Go on with your story," said the Duchess, majestically overruling all
+extraneous discussion.
+
+"This little old house at Salem was haunted," resumed Uncle Larry. "And
+by a very distinguished ghost--or at least by a ghost with very
+remarkable attributes."
+
+"What was he like?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a premonitory shiver
+of anticipatory delight.
+
+"It had a lot of peculiarities. In the first place, it never appeared to
+the master of the house. Mostly it confined its visitations to unwelcome
+guests. In the course of the last hundred years it had frightened away
+four successive mothers-in-law, while never intruding on the head of the
+household."
+
+"I guess that ghost had been one of the boys when he was alive and in
+the flesh." This was Dear Jones's contribution to the telling of the
+tale.
+
+"In the second place," continued Uncle Larry, "it never frightened
+anybody the first time it appeared. Only on the second visit were the
+ghost-seers scared; but then they were scared enough for twice, and they
+rarely mustered up courage enough to risk a third interview. One of the
+most curious characteristics of this well-meaning spook was that it had
+no face--or at least that nobody ever saw its face."
+
+"Perhaps he kept his countenance veiled?" queried the Duchess, who was
+beginning to remember that she never did like ghost stories.
+
+"That was what I was never able to find out. I have asked several people
+who saw the ghost, and none of them could tell me anything about its
+face, and yet while in its presence they never noticed its features, and
+never remarked on their absence or concealment. It was only afterwards
+when they tried to recall calmly all the circumstances of meeting with
+the mysterious stranger that they became aware that they had not seen
+its face. And they could not say whether the features were covered, or
+whether they were wanting, or what the trouble was. They knew only that
+the face was never seen. And no matter how often they might see it, they
+never fathomed this mystery. To this day nobody knows whether the ghost
+which used to haunt the little old house in Salem had a face, or what
+manner of face it had."
+
+"How awfully weird!" said Baby Van Rensselaer. "And why did the ghost go
+away?"
+
+"I haven't said it went away," answered Uncle Larry, with much dignity.
+
+"But you said it _used_ to haunt the little old house at Salem, so I
+supposed it had moved. Didn't it?" the young lady asked.
+
+"You shall be told in due time. Eliphalet Duncan used to spend most of
+his summer vacations at Salem, and the ghost never bothered him at all,
+for he was the master of the house--much to his disgust, too, because he
+wanted to see for himself the mysterious tenant at will of his property.
+But he never saw it, never. He arranged with friends to call him
+whenever it might appear, and he slept in the next room with the door
+open; and yet when their frightened cries waked him the ghost was gone,
+and his only reward was to hear reproachful sighs as soon as he went
+back to bed. You see, the ghost thought it was not fair of Eliphalet to
+seek an introduction which was plainly unwelcome."
+
+Dear Jones interrupted the story-teller by getting up and tucking a
+heavy rug more snugly around Baby Van Rensselaer's feet, for the sky was
+now overcast and gray, and the air was damp and penetrating.
+
+"One fine spring morning," pursued Uncle Larry, "Eliphalet Duncan
+received great news. I told you that there was a title in the family in
+Scotland, and that Eliphalet's father was the younger son of a younger
+son. Well, it happened that all Eliphalet's father's brothers and
+uncles had died off without male issue except the eldest son of the
+eldest son, and he, of course, bore the title, and was Baron Duncan of
+Duncan. Now the great news that Eliphalet Duncan received in New York
+one fine spring morning was that Baron Duncan and his only son had been
+yachting in the Hebrides, and they had been caught in a black squall,
+and they were both dead. So my friend Eliphalet Duncan inherited the
+title and the estates."
+
+"How romantic!" said the Duchess. "So he was a baron!"
+
+"Well," answered Uncle Larry, "he was a baron if he chose. But he didn't
+choose."
+
+"More fool he!" said Dear Jones, sententiously.
+
+"Well," answered Uncle Larry, "I'm not so sure of that. You see,
+Eliphalet Duncan was half Scotch and half Yankee, and he had two eyes to
+the main chance. He held his tongue about his windfall of luck until he
+could find out whether the Scotch estates were enough to keep up the
+Scotch title. He soon discovered that they were not, and that the late
+Lord Duncan, having married money, kept up such state as he could out of
+the revenues of the dowry of Lady Duncan. And Eliphalet, he decided that
+he would rather be a well-fed lawyer in New York, living comfortably on
+his practice, than a starving lord in Scotland, living scantily on his
+title."
+
+"But he kept his title?" asked the Duchess.
+
+"Well," answered Uncle Larry, "he kept it quiet. I knew it, and a friend
+or two more. But Eliphalet was a sight too smart to put 'Baron Duncan of
+Duncan, Attorney and Counselor at Law,' on his shingle."
+
+"What has all this got to do with your ghost?" asked Dear Jones,
+pertinently.
+
+"Nothing with that ghost, but a good deal with another ghost. Eliphalet
+was very learned in spirit lore--perhaps because he owned the haunted
+house at Salem, perhaps because he was a Scotchman by descent. At all
+events, he had made a special study of the wraiths and white ladies and
+banshees and bogies of all kinds whose sayings and doings and warnings
+are recorded in the annals of the Scottish nobility. In fact, he was
+acquainted with the habits of every reputable spook in the Scotch
+peerage. And he knew that there was a Duncan ghost attached to the
+person of the holder of the title of Baron Duncan of Duncan."
+
+"So, besides being the owner of a haunted house in Salem, he was also a
+haunted man in Scotland?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Just so. But the Scotch ghost was not unpleasant, like the Salem ghost,
+although it had one peculiarity in common with its transatlantic
+fellow-spook. It never appeared to the holder of the title, just as the
+other never was visible to the owner of the house. In fact, the Duncan
+ghost was never seen at all. It was a guardian angel only. Its sole duty
+was to be in personal attendance on Baron Duncan of Duncan, and to warn
+him of impending evil. The traditions of the house told that the Barons
+of Duncan had again and again felt a premonition of ill fortune. Some of
+them had yielded and withdrawn from the venture they had undertaken, and
+it had failed dismally. Some had been obstinate, and had hardened their
+hearts, and had gone on reckless to defeat and to death. In no case had
+a Lord Duncan been exposed to peril without fair warning."
+
+"Then how came it that the father and son were lost in the yacht off the
+Hebrides?" asked Dear Jones.
+
+"Because they were too enlightened to yield to superstition. There is
+extant now a letter of Lord Duncan, written to his wife a few minutes
+before he and his son set sail, in which he tells her how hard he has
+had to struggle with an almost overmastering desire to give up the trip.
+Had he obeyed the friendly warning of the family ghost, the letter would
+have been spared a journey across the Atlantic."
+
+"Did the ghost leave Scotland for America as soon as the old baron
+died?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with much interest.
+
+"How did he come over," queried Dear Jones--"in the steerage, or as a
+cabin passenger?"
+
+"I don't know," answered Uncle Larry, calmly, "and Eliphalet didn't
+know. For as he was in no danger, and stood in no need of warning, he
+couldn't tell whether the ghost was on duty or not. Of course he was on
+the watch for it all the time. But he never got any proof of its
+presence until he went down to the little old house of Salem, just
+before the Fourth of July. He took a friend down with him--a young
+fellow who had been in the regular army since the day Fort Sumter was
+fired on, and who thought that after four years of the little
+unpleasantness down South, including six months in Libby, and after ten
+years of fighting the bad Indians on the plains, he wasn't likely to be
+much frightened by a ghost. Well, Eliphalet and the officer sat out on
+the porch all the evening smoking and talking over points in military
+law. A little after twelve o'clock, just as they began to think it was
+about time to turn in, they heard the most ghastly noise in the house.
+It wasn't a shriek, or a howl, or a yell, or anything they could put a
+name to. It was an undeterminate, inexplicable shiver and shudder of
+sound, which went wailing out of the window. The officer had been at
+Cold Harbor, but he felt himself getting colder this time. Eliphalet
+knew it was the ghost who haunted the house. As this weird sound died
+away, it was followed by another, sharp, short, blood-curdling in its
+intensity. Something in this cry seemed familiar to Eliphalet, and he
+felt sure that it proceeded from the family ghost, the warning wraith of
+the Duncans."
+
+"Do I understand you to intimate that both ghosts were there together?"
+inquired the Duchess, anxiously.
+
+"Both of them were there," answered Uncle Larry. "You see, one of them
+belonged to the house, and had to be there all the time, and the other
+was attached to the person of Baron Duncan, and had to follow him there;
+wherever he was, there was that ghost also. But Eliphalet, he had
+scarcely time to think this out when he heard both sounds again, not one
+after another, but both together, and something told him--some sort of
+an instinct he had--that those two ghosts didn't agree, didn't get on
+together, didn't exactly hit it off; in fact, that they were
+quarreling."
+
+"Quarreling ghosts! Well, I never!" was Baby Van Rensselaer's remark.
+
+"It is a blessed thing to see ghosts dwell together in unity," said Dear
+Jones.
+
+And the Duchess added, "It would certainly be setting a better example."
+
+"You know," resumed Uncle Larry, "that two waves of light or of sound
+may interfere and produce darkness or silence. So it was with these
+rival spooks. They interfered, but they did not produce silence or
+darkness. On the contrary, as soon as Eliphalet and the officer went
+into the house, there began at once a series of spiritualistic
+manifestations--a regular dark séance. A tambourine was played upon, a
+bell was rung, and a flaming banjo went singing around the room."
+
+"Where did they get the banjo?" asked Dear Jones, sceptically.
+
+"I don't know. Materialized it, maybe, just as they did the tambourine.
+You don't suppose a quiet New York lawyer kept a stock of musical
+instruments large enough to fit out a strolling minstrel troupe just on
+the chance of a pair of ghosts coming to give him a surprise party, do
+you? Every spook has its own instrument of torture. Angels play on
+harps, I'm informed, and spirits delight in banjos and tambourines.
+These spooks of Eliphalet Duncan's were ghosts with all modern
+improvements, and I guess they were capable of providing their own
+musical weapons. At all events, they had them there in the little old
+house at Salem the night Eliphalet and his friend came down. And they
+played on them, and they rang the bell, and they rapped here, there, and
+everywhere. And they kept it up all night."
+
+"All night?" asked the awe-stricken Duchess.
+
+"All night long," said Uncle Larry, solemnly; "and the next night too.
+Eliphalet did not get a wink of sleep, neither did his friend. On the
+second night the house ghost was seen by the officer; on the third night
+it showed itself again; and the next morning the officer packed his
+gripsack and took the first train to Boston. He was a New Yorker, but he
+said he'd sooner go to Boston than see that ghost again. Eliphalet
+wasn't scared at all, partly because he never saw either the domiciliary
+or the titular spook, and partly because he felt himself on friendly
+terms with the spirit world, and didn't scare easily. But after losing
+three nights' sleep and the society of his friend, he began to be a
+little impatient, and to think that the thing had gone far enough. You
+see, while in a way he was fond of ghosts, yet he liked them best one at
+a time. Two ghosts were one too many. He wasn't bent on making a
+collection of spooks. He and one ghost were company, but he and two
+ghosts were a crowd."
+
+"What did he do?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Well he couldn't do anything. He waited awhile, hoping they would get
+tired; but he got tired out first. You see, it comes natural to a spook
+to sleep in the daytime, but a man wants to sleep nights, and they
+wouldn't let him sleep nights. They kept on wrangling and quarreling
+incessantly; they manifested and they dark-séanced as regularly as the
+old clock on the stairs struck twelve; they rapped and they rang bells
+and they banged the tambourine and they threw the flaming banjo about
+the house, and, worse than all, they swore."
+
+"I did not know that spirits were addicted to bad language," said the
+Duchess.
+
+"How did he know they were swearing? Could he hear them?" asked Dear
+Jones.
+
+"That was just it," responded Uncle Larry; "he could not hear them--at
+least, not distinctly. There were inarticulate murmurs and stifled
+rumblings. But the impression produced on him was that they were
+swearing. If they had only sworn right out, he would not have minded it
+so much, because he would have known the worst. But the feeling that the
+air was full of suppressed profanity was very wearing, and after
+standing it for a week he gave up in disgust and went to the White
+Mountains."
+
+"Leaving them to fight it out, I suppose," interjected Baby Van
+Rensselaer.
+
+"Not at all," explained Uncle Larry. "They could not quarrel unless he
+was present. You see, he could not leave the titular ghost behind him,
+and the domiciliary ghost could not leave the house. When he went away
+he took the family ghost with him, leaving the house ghost behind. Now
+spooks can't quarrel when they are a hundred miles apart any more than
+men can."
+
+"And what happened afterwards?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a pretty
+impatience.
+
+"A most marvelous thing happened. Eliphalet Duncan went to the White
+Mountains, and in the car of the railroad that runs to the top of Mount
+Washington he met a classmate whom he had not seen for years, and this
+classmate introduced Duncan to his sister, and this sister was a
+remarkably pretty girl, and Duncan fell in love with her at first sight,
+and by the time he got to the top of Mount Washington he was so deep in
+love that he began to consider his own unworthiness, and to wonder
+whether she might ever be induced to care for him a little--ever so
+little."
+
+"I don't think that is so marvelous a thing," said Dear Jones, glancing
+at Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Who was she?" asked the Duchess, who had once lived in Philadelphia.
+
+"She was Miss Kitty Sutton, of San Francisco, and she was a daughter of
+old Judge Sutton, of the firm of Pixley & Sutton."
+
+"A very respectable family," assented the Duchess.
+
+"I hope she wasn't a daughter of that loud and vulgar old Mrs. Sutton
+whom I met at Saratoga one summer four or five years ago?" said Dear
+Jones.
+
+"Probably she was," Uncle Larry responded.
+
+"She was a horrid old woman. The boys used to call her Mother Gorgon."
+
+"The pretty Kitty Sutton with whom Eliphalet Duncan had fallen in love
+was the daughter of Mother Gorgon. But he never saw the mother, who was
+in Frisco, or Los Angeles, or Santa Fé, or somewhere out West, and he
+saw a great deal of the daughter, who was up in the White Mountains. She
+was traveling with her brother and his wife, and as they journeyed from
+hotel to hotel Duncan went with them, and filled out the quartette.
+Before the end of the summer he began to think about proposing. Of
+course he had lots of chances, going on excursions as they were every
+day. He made up his mind to seize the first opportunity, and that very
+evening he took her out for a moonlight row on Lake Winipiseogee. As he
+handed her into the boat he resolved to do it, and he had a glimmer of
+suspicion that she knew he was going to do it, too."
+
+"Girls," said Dear Jones, "never go out in a rowboat at night with a
+young man unless you mean to accept him."
+
+"Sometimes it's best to refuse him, and get it over once for all," said
+Baby Van Rensselaer, impersonally.
+
+"As Eliphalet took the oars he felt a sudden chill. He tried to shake it
+off, but in vain. He began to have a growing consciousness of impending
+evil. Before he had taken ten strokes--and he was a swift oarsman--he
+was aware of a mysterious presence between him and Miss Sutton."
+
+"Was it the guardian-angel ghost warning him off the match?" interrupted
+Dear Jones.
+
+"That's just what it was," said Uncle Larry. "And he yielded to it, and
+kept his peace, and rowed Miss Sutton back to the hotel with his
+proposal unspoken."
+
+"More fool he," said Dear Jones. "It will take more than one ghost to
+keep me from proposing when my mind is made up." And he looked at Baby
+Van Rensselaer.
+
+"The next morning," continued Uncle Larry, "Eliphalet overslept himself,
+and when he went down to a late breakfast he found that the Suttons had
+gone to New York by the morning train. He wanted to follow them at once,
+and again he felt the mysterious presence overpowering his will. He
+struggled two days, and at last he roused himself to do what he wanted
+in spite of the spook. When he arrived in New York it was late in the
+evening. He dressed himself hastily, and went to the hotel where the
+Suttons were, in the hope of seeing at least her brother. The guardian
+angel fought every inch of the walk with him, until he began to wonder
+whether, if Miss Sutton were to take him, the spook would forbid the
+banns. At the hotel he saw no one that night, and he went home
+determined to call as early as he could the next afternoon, and make an
+end of it. When he left his office about two o'clock the next day to
+learn his fate, he had not walked five blocks before he discovered that
+the wraith of the Duncans had withdrawn his opposition to the suit.
+There was no feeling of impending evil, no resistance, no struggle, no
+consciousness of an opposing presence. Eliphalet was greatly encouraged.
+He walked briskly to the hotel; he found Miss Sutton alone. He asked her
+the question, and got his answer."
+
+"She accepted him, of course?" said Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Of course," said Uncle Larry. "And while they were in the first flush
+of joy, swapping confidences and confessions, her brother came into the
+parlor with an expression of pain on his face and a telegram in his
+hand. The former was caused by the latter, which was from Frisco, and
+which announced the sudden death of Mrs. Sutton, their mother."
+
+"And that was why the ghost no longer opposed the match?" questioned
+Dear Jones.
+
+"Exactly. You see, the family ghost knew that Mother Gorgon was an awful
+obstacle to Duncan's happiness, so it warned him. But the moment the
+obstacle was removed, it gave its consent at once."
+
+The fog was lowering its thick, damp curtain, and it was beginning to be
+difficult to see from one end of the boat to the other. Dear Jones
+tightened the rug which enwrapped Baby Van Rensselaer, and then withdrew
+again into his own substantial coverings.
+
+Uncle Larry paused in his story long enough to light another of the tiny
+cigars he always smoked.
+
+"I infer that Lord Duncan"--the Duchess was scrupulous in the bestowal
+of titles--"saw no more of the ghosts after he was married."
+
+"He never saw them at all, at any time, either before or since. But they
+came very near breaking off the match, and thus breaking two young
+hearts."
+
+"You don't mean to say that they knew any just cause or impediment why
+they should not forever after hold their peace?" asked Dear Jones.
+
+"How could a ghost, or even two ghosts, keep a girl from marrying the
+man she loved?" This was Baby Van Rensselaer's question.
+
+"It seems curious, doesn't it?" and Uncle Larry tried to warm himself by
+two or three sharp pulls at his fiery little cigar. "And the
+circumstances are quite as curious as the fact itself. You see, Miss
+Sutton wouldn't be married for a year after her mother's death, so she
+and Duncan had lots of time to tell each other all they knew. Eliphalet
+got to know a good deal about the girls she went to school with; and
+Kitty soon learned all about his family. He didn't tell her about the
+title for a long time, as he wasn't one to brag. But he described to
+her the little old house at Salem. And one evening towards the end of
+the summer, the wedding-day having been appointed for early in
+September, she told him that she didn't want a bridal tour at all; she
+just wanted to go down to the little old house at Salem to spend her
+honeymoon in peace and quiet, with nothing to do and nobody to bother
+them. Well, Eliphalet jumped at the suggestion: it suited him down to
+the ground. All of a sudden he remembered the spooks, and it knocked him
+all of a heap. He had told her about the Duncan banshee, and the idea of
+having an ancestral ghost in personal attendance on her husband tickled
+her immensely. But he had never said anything about the ghost which
+haunted the little old house at Salem. He knew she would be frightened
+out of her wits if the house ghost revealed itself to her, and he saw at
+once that it would be impossible to go to Salem on their wedding trip.
+So he told her all about it, and how whenever he went to Salem the two
+ghosts interfered, and gave dark séances and manifested and materialized
+and made the place absolutely impossible. Kitty listened in silence, and
+Eliphalet thought she had changed her mind. But she hadn't done anything
+of the kind."
+
+"Just like a man--to think she was going to," remarked Baby Van
+Rensselaer.
+
+"She just told him she could not bear ghosts herself, but she would not
+marry a man who was afraid of them."
+
+"Just like a girl--to be so inconsistent," remarked Dear Jones.
+
+Uncle Larry's tiny cigar had long been extinct. He lighted a new one,
+and continued: "Eliphalet protested in vain. Kitty said her mind was
+made up. She was determined to pass her honeymoon in the little old
+house at Salem, and she was equally determined not to go there as long
+as there were any ghosts there. Until he could assure her that the
+spectral tenant had received notice to quit, and that there was no
+danger of manifestations and materializing, she refused to be married at
+all. She did not intend to have her honeymoon interrupted by two
+wrangling ghosts, and the wedding could be postponed until he had made
+ready the house for her."
+
+"She was an unreasonable young woman," said the Duchess.
+
+"Well, that's what Eliphalet thought, much as he was in love with her.
+And he believed he could talk her out of her determination. But he
+couldn't. She was set. And when a girl is set, there's nothing to do but
+to yield to the inevitable. And that's just what Eliphalet did. He saw
+he would either have to give her up or to get the ghosts out; and as he
+loved her and did not care for the ghosts, he resolved to tackle the
+ghosts. He had clear grit, Eliphalet had--he was half Scotch and half
+Yankee and neither breed turns tail in a hurry. So he made his plans and
+he went down to Salem. As he said good-by to Kitty he had an impression
+that she was sorry she had made him go; but she kept up bravely, and
+put a bold face on it, and saw him off, and went home and cried for an
+hour, and was perfectly miserable until he came back the next day."
+
+"Did he succeed in driving the ghosts away?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer,
+with great interest.
+
+"That's just what I'm coming to," said Uncle Larry, pausing at the
+critical moment, in the manner of the trained story-teller. "You see,
+Eliphalet had got a rather tough job, and he would gladly have had an
+extension of time on the contract, but he had to choose between the girl
+and the ghosts, and he wanted the girl. He tried to invent or remember
+some short and easy way with ghosts, but he couldn't. He wished that
+somebody had invented a specific for spooks--something that would make
+the ghosts come out of the house and die in the yard. He wondered if he
+could not tempt the ghosts to run in debt, so that he might get the
+sheriff to help him. He wondered also whether the ghosts could not be
+overcome with strong drink--a dissipated spook, a spook with delirium
+tremens, might be committed to the inebriate asylum. But none of these
+things seemed feasible."
+
+"What did he do?" interrupted Dear Jones. "The learned counsel will
+please speak to the point."
+
+"You will regret this unseemly haste," said Uncle Larry, gravely, "when
+you know what really happened."
+
+"What was it, Uncle Larry?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer. "I'm all
+impatience."
+
+And Uncle Larry proceeded:
+
+"Eliphalet went down to the little old house at Salem, and as soon as
+the clock struck twelve the rival ghosts began wrangling as before. Raps
+here, there, and everywhere, ringing bells, banging tambourines,
+strumming banjos sailing about the room, and all the other
+manifestations and materializations followed one another just as they
+had the summer before. The only difference Eliphalet could detect was a
+stronger flavor in the spectral profanity; and this, of course, was only
+a vague impression, for he did not actually hear a single word. He
+waited awhile in patience, listening and watching. Of course he never
+saw either of the ghosts, because neither of them could appear to him.
+At last he got his dander up, and he thought it was about time to
+interfere, so he rapped on the table, and asked for silence. As soon as
+he felt that the spooks were listening to him he explained the situation
+to them. He told them he was in love, and that he could not marry unless
+they vacated the house. He appealed to them as old friends, and he laid
+claim to their gratitude. The titular ghost had been sheltered by the
+Duncan family for hundreds of years, and the domiciliary ghost had had
+free lodging in the little old house at Salem for nearly two centuries.
+He implored them to settle their differences, and to get him out of his
+difficulty at once. He suggested that they had better fight it out then
+and there, and see who was master. He had brought down with him all
+needful weapons. And he pulled out his valise, and spread on the table a
+pair of navy revolvers, a pair of shotguns, a pair of dueling-swords,
+and a couple of bowie knives. He offered to serve as second for both
+parties, and to give the word when to begin. He also took out of his
+valise a pack of cards and a bottle of poison, telling them that if they
+wished to avoid carnage they might cut the cards to see which one should
+take the poison. Then he waited anxiously for their reply. For a little
+space there was silence. Then he became conscious of a tremulous
+shivering in one corner of the room, and he remembered that he had heard
+from that direction what sounded like a frightened sigh when he made the
+first suggestion of the duel. Something told him that this was the
+domiciliary ghost, and that it was badly scared. Then he was impressed
+by a certain movement in the opposite corner of the room, as though the
+titular ghost were drawing himself up with offended dignity. Eliphalet
+couldn't exactly see those things, because he never saw the ghosts, but
+he felt them. After a silence of nearly a minute a voice came from the
+corner where the family ghost stood--a voice strong and full, but
+trembling slightly with suppressed passion. And this voice told
+Eliphalet it was plain enough that he had not long been the head of the
+Duncans, and that he had never properly considered the characteristics
+of his race if now he supposed that one of his blood could draw his
+sword against a woman. Eliphalet said he had never suggested that the
+Duncan ghost should raise his hand against a woman, and all he wanted
+was that the Duncan ghost should fight the other ghost. And then the
+voice told Eliphalet that the other ghost was a woman."
+
+"What?" said Dear Jones, sitting up suddenly. "You don't mean to tell me
+that the ghost which haunted the house was a woman?"
+
+"Those were the very words Eliphalet Duncan used," said Uncle Larry;
+"but he did not need to wait for the answer. All at once he recalled the
+traditions about the domiciliary ghost, and he knew that what the
+titular ghost said was the fact. He had never thought of the sex of a
+spook, but there was no doubt whatever that the house ghost was a woman.
+No sooner was this firmly fixed in Eliphalet's mind than he saw his way
+out of the difficulty. The ghosts must be married!--for then there would
+be no more interference, no more quarreling, no more manifestations and
+materializations, no more dark séances, with their raps and bells and
+tambourines and banjos. At first the ghosts would not hear of it. The
+voice in the corner declared that the Duncan wraith had never thought of
+matrimony. But Eliphalet argued with them, and pleaded and pursuaded and
+coaxed, and dwelt on the advantages of matrimony. He had to confess, of
+course, that he did not know how to get a clergyman to marry them; but
+the voice from the corner gravely told him that there need be no
+difficulty in regard to that, as there was no lack of spiritual
+chaplains. Then, for the first time, the house ghost spoke, a low,
+clear, gentle voice, and with a quaint, old-fashioned New England
+accent, which contrasted sharply with the broad Scotch speech of the
+family ghost. She said that Eliphalet Duncan seemed to have forgotten
+that she was married. But this did not upset Eliphalet at all; he
+remembered the whole case clearly, and he told her she was not a married
+ghost, but a widow, since her husband had been hanged for murdering her.
+Then the Duncan ghost drew attention to the great disparity in their
+ages, saying that he was nearly four hundred and fifty years old, while
+she was barely two hundred. But Eliphalet had not talked to juries for
+nothing; he just buckled to, and coaxed those ghosts into matrimony.
+Afterwards he came to the conclusion that they were willing to be
+coaxed, but at the time he thought he had pretty hard work to convince
+them of the advantages of the plan."
+
+"Did he succeed?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a woman's interest in
+matrimony.
+
+"He did," said Uncle Larry. "He talked the wraith of the Duncans and the
+specter of the little old house at Salem into a matrimonial engagement.
+And from the time they were engaged he had no more trouble with them.
+They were rival ghosts no longer. They were married by their spiritual
+chaplain the very same day that Eliphalet Duncan met Kitty Sutton in
+front of the railing of Grace Church. The ghostly bride and bridegroom
+went away at once on their bridal tour, and Lord and Lady Duncan went
+down to the little old house at Salem to pass their honeymoon."
+
+Uncle Larry stopped. His tiny cigar was out again. The tale of the rival
+ghosts was told. A solemn silence fell on the little party on the deck
+of the ocean steamer, broken harshly by the hoarse roar of the
+fog-horn.
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER GHOST OF HARROWBY HALL
+
+BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+From _The Water Ghost, and other Stories_, by John Kendrick Bangs.
+Copyright, 1904, by Harper Brothers. By permission of the publishers and
+John Kendrick Bangs.
+
+
+
+
+The Water Ghost of Harrowby Hall
+
+BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+
+The trouble with Harrowby Hall was that it was haunted, and, what was
+worse, the ghost did not content itself with merely appearing at the
+bedside of the afflicted person who saw it, but persisted in remaining
+there for one mortal hour before it would disappear.
+
+It never appeared except on Christmas Eve, and then as the clock was
+striking twelve, in which respect alone was it lacking in that
+originality which in these days is a _sine qua non_ of success in
+spectral life. The owners of Harrowby Hall had done their utmost to rid
+themselves of the damp and dewy lady who rose up out of the best bedroom
+floor at midnight, but without avail. They had tried stopping the clock,
+so that the ghost would not know when it was midnight; but she made her
+appearance just the same, with that fearful miasmatic personality of
+hers, and there she would stand until everything about her was
+thoroughly saturated.
+
+Then the owners of Harrowby Hall caulked up every crack in the floor
+with the very best quality of hemp, and over this were placed layers of
+tar and canvas; the walls were made waterproof, and the doors and
+windows likewise, the proprietors having conceived the notion that the
+unexorcised lady would find it difficult to leak into the room after
+these precautions had been taken; but even this did not suffice. The
+following Christmas Eve she appeared as promptly as before, and
+frightened the occupant of the room quite out of his senses by sitting
+down alongside of him and gazing with her cavernous blue eyes into his;
+and he noticed, too, that in her long, aqueously bony fingers bits of
+dripping seaweed were entwined, the ends hanging down, and these ends
+she drew across his forehead until he became like one insane. And then
+he swooned away, and was found unconscious in his bed the next morning
+by his host, simply saturated with sea-water and fright, from the
+combined effects of which he never recovered, dying four years later of
+pneumonia and nervous prostration at the age of seventy-eight.
+
+The next year the master of Harrowby Hall decided not to have the best
+spare bedroom opened at all, thinking that perhaps the ghost's thirst
+for making herself disagreeable would be satisfied by haunting the
+furniture, but the plan was as unavailing as the many that had preceded
+it.
+
+The ghost appeared as usual in the room--that is, it was supposed she
+did, for the hangings were dripping wet the next morning, and in the
+parlor below the haunted room a great damp spot appeared on the
+ceiling. Finding no one there, she immediately set out to learn the
+reason why, and she chose none other to haunt than the owner of the
+Harrowby himself. She found him in his own cosey room drinking
+whiskey--whiskey undiluted--and felicitating himself upon having foiled
+her ghost-ship, when all of a sudden the curl went out of his hair, his
+whiskey bottle filled and overflowed, and he was himself in a condition
+similar to that of a man who has fallen into a water-butt. When he
+recovered from the shock, which was a painful one, he saw before him the
+lady of the cavernous eyes and seaweed fingers. The sight was so
+unexpected and so terrifying that he fainted, but immediately came to,
+because of the vast amount of water in his hair, which, trickling down
+over his face, restored his consciousness.
+
+Now it so happened that the master of Harrowby was a brave man, and
+while he was not particularly fond of interviewing ghosts, especially
+such quenching ghosts as the one before him, he was not to be daunted by
+an apparition. He had paid the lady the compliment of fainting from the
+effects of his first surprise, and now that he had come to he intended
+to find out a few things he felt he had a right to know. He would have
+liked to put on a dry suit of clothes first, but the apparition declined
+to leave him for an instant until her hour was up, and he was forced to
+deny himself that pleasure. Every time he would move she would follow
+him, with the result that everything she came in contact with got a
+ducking. In an effort to warm himself up he approached the fire, an
+unfortunate move as it turned out, because it brought the ghost directly
+over the fire, which immediately was extinguished. The whiskey became
+utterly valueless as a comforter to his chilled system, because it was
+by this time diluted to a proportion of ninety per cent of water. The
+only thing he could do to ward off the evil effects of his encounter he
+did, and that was to swallow ten two-grain quinine pills, which he
+managed to put into his mouth before the ghost had time to interfere.
+Having done this, he turned with some asperity to the ghost, and said:
+
+"Far be it from me to be impolite to a woman, madam, but I'm hanged if
+it wouldn't please me better if you'd stop these infernal visits of
+yours to this house. Go sit out on the lake, if you like that sort of
+thing; soak the water-butt, if you wish; but do not, I implore you, come
+into a gentleman's house and saturate him and his possessions in this
+way. It is damned disagreeable."
+
+"Henry Hartwick Oglethorpe," said the ghost, in a gurgling voice, "you
+don't know what you are talking about."
+
+"Madam," returned the unhappy householder, "I wish that remark were
+strictly truthful. I was talking about you. It would be shillings and
+pence--nay, pounds, in my pocket, madam, if I did not know you."
+
+"That is a bit of specious nonsense," returned the ghost, throwing a
+quart of indignation into the face of the master of Harrowby. "It may
+rank high as repartee, but as a comment upon my statement that you do
+not know what you are talking about, it savors of irrelevant
+impertinence. You do not know that I am compelled to haunt this place
+year after year by inexorable fate. It is no pleasure to me to enter
+this house, and ruin and mildew everything I touch. I never aspired to
+be a shower-bath, but it is my doom. Do you know who I am?"
+
+"No, I don't," returned the master of Harrowby. "I should say you were
+the Lady of the Lake, or Little Sallie Waters."
+
+"You are a witty man for your years," said the ghost.
+
+"Well, my humor is drier than yours ever will be," returned the master.
+
+"No doubt. I'm never dry. I am the Water Ghost of Harrowby Hall, and
+dryness is a quality entirely beyond my wildest hope. I have been the
+incumbent of this highly unpleasant office for two hundred years
+to-night."
+
+"How the deuce did you ever come to get elected?" asked the master.
+
+"Through a suicide," replied the specter. "I am the ghost of that fair
+maiden whose picture hangs over the mantelpiece in the drawing-room. I
+should have been your great-great-great-great-great-aunt if I had lived,
+Henry Hartwick Oglethorpe, for I was the own sister of your
+great-great-great-great-grandfather."
+
+"But what induced you to get this house into such a predicament?"
+
+"I was not to blame, sir," returned the lady. "It was my father's fault.
+He it was who built Harrowby Hall, and the haunted chamber was to have
+been mine. My father had it furnished in pink and yellow, knowing well
+that blue and gray formed the only combination of color I could
+tolerate. He did it merely to spite me, and, with what I deem a proper
+spirit, I declined to live in the room; whereupon my father said I could
+live there or on the lawn, he didn't care which. That night I ran from
+the house and jumped over the cliff into the sea."
+
+"That was rash," said the master of Harrowby.
+
+"So I've heard," returned the ghost. "If I had known what the
+consequences were to be I should not have jumped; but I really never
+realized what I was doing until after I was drowned. I had been drowned
+a week when a sea-nymph came to me and informed me that I was to be one
+of her followers forever afterwards, adding that it should be my doom to
+haunt Harrowby Hall for one hour every Christmas Eve throughout the rest
+of eternity. I was to haunt that room on such Christmas Eves as I found
+it inhabited; and if it should turn out not to be inhabited, I was and
+am to spend the allotted hour with the head of the house."
+
+"I'll sell the place."
+
+"That you cannot do, for it is also required of me that I shall appear
+as the deeds are to be delivered to any purchaser, and divulge to him
+the awful secret of the house."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that on every Christmas Eve that I don't happen
+to have somebody in that guest-chamber, you are going to haunt me
+wherever I may be, ruining my whiskey, taking all the curl out of my
+hair, extinguishing my fire, and soaking me through to the skin?"
+demanded the master.
+
+"You have stated the case, Oglethorpe. And what is more," said the water
+ghost, "it doesn't make the slightest difference where you are, if I
+find that room empty, wherever you may be I shall douse you with my
+spectral pres----"
+
+Here the clock struck one, and immediately the apparition faded away. It
+was perhaps more of a trickle than a fade, but as a disappearance it was
+complete.
+
+"By St. George and his Dragon!" ejaculated the master of Harrowby,
+wringing his hands. "It is guineas to hot-cross buns that next Christmas
+there's an occupant of the spare room, or I spend the night in a
+bathtub."
+
+But the master of Harrowby would have lost his wager had there been
+anyone there to take him up, for when Christmas Eve came again he was in
+his grave, never having recovered from the cold contracted that awful
+night. Harrowby Hall was closed, and the heir to the estate was in
+London, where to him in his chambers came the same experience that his
+father had gone through, saving only that, being younger and stronger,
+he survived the shock. Everything in his rooms was ruined--his clocks
+were rusted in the works; a fine collection of water-color drawings was
+entirely obliterated by the onslaught of the water ghost; and what was
+worse, the apartments below his were drenched with the water soaking
+through the floors, a damage for which he was compelled to pay, and
+which resulted in his being requested by his landlady to vacate the
+premises immediately.
+
+The story of the visitation inflicted upon his family had gone abroad,
+and no one could be got to invite him out to any function save afternoon
+teas and receptions. Fathers of daughters declined to permit him to
+remain in their houses later than eight o'clock at night, not knowing
+but that some emergency might arise in the supernatural world which
+would require the unexpected appearance of the water ghost in this on
+nights other than Christmas Eve, and before the mystic hour when weary
+churchyards, ignoring the rules which are supposed to govern polite
+society, begin to yawn. Nor would the maids themselves have aught to do
+with him, fearing the destruction by the sudden incursion of aqueous
+femininity of the costumes which they held most dear.
+
+So the heir of Harrowby Hall resolved, as his ancestors for several
+generations before him had resolved, that something must be done. His
+first thought was to make one of his servants occupy the haunted room at
+the crucial moment; but in this he failed, because the servants
+themselves knew the history of that room and rebelled. None of his
+friends would consent to sacrifice their personal comfort to his, nor
+was there to be found in all England a man so poor as to be willing to
+occupy the doomed chamber on Christmas Eve for pay.
+
+Then the thought came to the heir to have the fireplace in the room
+enlarged, so that he might evaporate the ghost at its first appearance,
+and he was felicitating himself upon the ingenuity of his plan, when he
+remembered what his father had told him--how that no fire could
+withstand the lady's extremely contagious dampness. And then he
+bethought him of steam-pipes. These, he remembered, could lie hundreds
+of feet deep in water, and still retain sufficient heat to drive the
+water away in vapor; and as a result of this thought the haunted room
+was heated by steam to a withering degree, and the heir for six months
+attended daily the Turkish baths, so that when Christmas Eve came he
+could himself withstand the awful temperature of the room.
+
+The scheme was only partially successful. The water ghost appeared at
+the specified time, and found the heir of Harrowby prepared; but hot as
+the room was, it shortened her visit by no more than five minutes in the
+hour, during which time the nervous system of the young master was
+well-nigh shattered, and the room itself was cracked and warped to an
+extent which required the outlay of a large sum of money to remedy. And
+worse than this, as the last drop of the water ghost was slowly
+sizzling itself out on the floor, she whispered to her would-be
+conqueror that his scheme would avail him nothing, because there was
+still water in great plenty where she came from, and that next year
+would find her rehabilitated and as exasperatingly saturating as ever.
+
+It was then that the natural action of the mind, in going from one
+extreme to the other, suggested to the ingenious heir of Harrowby the
+means by which the water ghost was ultimately conquered, and happiness
+once more came within the grasp of the house of Oglethorpe.
+
+The heir provided himself with a warm suit of fur under-clothing.
+Donning this with the furry side in, he placed over it a rubber garment,
+tight-fitting, which he wore just as a woman wears a jersey. On top of
+this he placed another set of under-clothing, this suit made of wool,
+and over this was a second rubber garment like the first. Upon his head
+he placed a light and comfortable diving helmet, and so clad, on the
+following Christmas Eve he awaited the coming of his tormentor.
+
+It was a bitterly cold night that brought to a close this twenty-fourth
+day of December. The air outside was still, but the temperature was
+below zero. Within all was quiet, the servants of Harrowby Hall awaiting
+with beating hearts the outcome of their master's campaign against his
+supernatural visitor.
+
+The master himself was lying on the bed in the haunted room, clad as
+has already been indicated, and then----
+
+The clock clanged out the hour of twelve.
+
+There was a sudden banging of doors, a blast of cold air swept through
+the halls, the door leading into the haunted chamber flew open, a splash
+was heard, and the water ghost was seen standing at the side of the heir
+of Harrowby, from whose outer dress there streamed rivulets of water,
+but whose own person deep down under the various garments he wore was as
+dry and as warm as he could have wished.
+
+"Ha!" said the young master of Harrowby. "I'm glad to see you."
+
+"You are the most original man I've met, if that is true," returned the
+ghost. "May I ask where did you get that hat?"
+
+"Certainly, madam," returned the master, courteously. "It is a little
+portable observatory I had made for just such emergencies as this. But,
+tell me, is it true that you are doomed to follow me about for one
+mortal hour--to stand where I stand, to sit where I sit?"
+
+"That is my delectable fate," returned the lady.
+
+"We'll go out on the lake," said the master, starting up.
+
+"You can't get rid of me that way," returned the ghost. "The water won't
+swallow me up; in fact, it will just add to my present bulk."
+
+"Nevertheless," said the master, firmly, "we will go out on the lake."
+
+"But, my dear sir," returned the ghost, with a pale reluctance, "it is
+fearfully cold out there. You will be frozen hard before you've been out
+ten minutes."
+
+"Oh no, I'll not," replied the master. "I am very warmly dressed. Come!"
+This last in a tone of command that made the ghost ripple.
+
+And they started.
+
+They had not gone far before the water ghost showed signs of distress.
+
+"You walk too slowly," she said. "I am nearly frozen. My knees are so
+stiff now I can hardly move. I beseech you to accelerate your step."
+
+"I should like to oblige a lady," returned the master, courteously, "but
+my clothes are rather heavy, and a hundred yards an hour is about my
+speed. Indeed, I think we would better sit down here on this snowdrift,
+and talk matters over."
+
+"Do not! Do not do so, I beg!" cried the ghost. "Let me move on. I feel
+myself growing rigid as it is. If we stop here, I shall be frozen
+stiff."
+
+"That, madam," said the master slowly, and seating himself on an
+ice-cake--"that is why I have brought you here. We have been on this
+spot just ten minutes; we have fifty more. Take your time about it,
+madam, but freeze, that is all I ask of you."
+
+"I cannot move my right leg now," cried the ghost, in despair, "and my
+overskirt is a solid sheet of ice. Oh, good, kind Mr. Oglethorpe, light
+a fire, and let me go free from these icy fetters."
+
+"Never, madam. It cannot be. I have you at last."
+
+"Alas!" cried the ghost, a tear trickling down her frozen cheek. "Help
+me, I beg. I congeal!"
+
+"Congeal, madam, congeal!" returned Oglethorpe, coldly. "You have
+drenched me and mine for two hundred and three years, madam. To-night
+you have had your last drench."
+
+"Ah, but I shall thaw out again, and then you'll see. Instead of the
+comfortably tepid, genial ghost I have been in my past, sir, I shall be
+iced-water," cried the lady, threateningly.
+
+"No, you won't, either," returned Oglethorpe; "for when you are frozen
+quite stiff, I shall send you to a cold-storage warehouse, and there
+shall you remain an icy work of art forever more."
+
+"But warehouses burn."
+
+"So they do, but this warehouse cannot burn. It is made of asbestos and
+surrounding it are fireproof walls, and within those walls the
+temperature is now and shall forever be 416 degrees below the zero
+point; low enough to make an icicle of any flame in this world--or the
+next," the master added, with an ill-suppressed chuckle.
+
+"For the last time let me beseech you. I would go on my knees to you,
+Oglethorpe, were they not already frozen. I beg of you do not doo----"
+
+Here even the words froze on the water-ghost's lips and the clock struck
+one. There was a momentary tremor throughout the ice-bound form, and the
+moon, coming out from behind a cloud, shone down on the rigid figure of
+a beautiful woman sculptured in clear, transparent ice. There stood the
+ghost of Harrowby Hall, conquered by the cold, a prisoner for all time.
+
+The heir of Harrowby had won at last, and to-day in a large storage
+house in London stands the frigid form of one who will never again flood
+the house of Oglethorpe with woe and sea-water.
+
+As for the heir of Harrowby, his success in coping with a ghost has made
+him famous, a fame that still lingers about him, although his victory
+took place some twenty years ago; and so far from being unpopular with
+the fair sex, as he was when we first knew him, he has not only been
+married twice, but is to lead a third bride to the altar before the year
+is out.
+
+
+
+
+BACK FROM THAT BOURNE
+
+ANONYMOUS
+
+From the New York _Sun_. By permission of the editor.
+
+
+
+
+Back from That Bourne
+
+ANONYMOUS
+
+     _Practical Working of Materialization in Maine. A
+     Strange Story from Pocock Island--A Materialized Spirit
+     that Will not Go back. The First Glimpse of what May
+     yet Cause very Extensive Trouble in this World._
+
+(The _Sun_, Saturday, December 19, 1874.)
+
+
+We are permitted to make extracts from a private letter which bears the
+signature of a gentleman well known in business circles, and whose
+veracity we have never heard called in question. His statements are
+startling and well-nigh incredible, but if true, they are susceptible of
+easy verification. Yet the thoughtful mind will hesitate about accepting
+them without the fullest proof, for they spring upon the world a social
+problem of stupendous importance. The dangers apprehended by Mr. Malthus
+and his followers become remote and commonplace by the side of this new
+and terrible issue.
+
+The letter is dated at Pocock Island, a small township in Washington
+County, Maine, about seventeen miles from the mainland and nearly
+midway between Mt. Desert and the Grand Menan. The last state census
+accords to Pocock Island a population of 311, mostly engaged in the
+porgy fisheries. At the Presidential election of 1872 the island gave
+Grant a majority of three. These two facts are all that we are able to
+learn of the locality from sources outside of the letter already
+referred to.
+
+The letter, omitting certain passages which refer solely to private
+matters, reads as follows:
+
+"But enough of the disagreeable business that brought me here to this
+bleak island in the month of November. I have a singular story to tell
+you. After our experience together at Chittenden I know you will not
+reject statements because they are startling.
+
+"My friend, there is upon Pocock Island a materialized spirit which (or
+who) refuses to be dematerialized. At this moment and within a quarter
+of a mile from me as I write, a man who died and was buried four years
+ago, and who has exploited the mysteries beyond the grave, walks, talks,
+and holds interviews with the inhabitants of the island, and is, to all
+appearances, determined to remain permanently upon this side of the
+river. I will relate the circumstances as briefly as I can."
+
+
+JOHN NEWBEGIN
+
+"In April, 1870, John Newbegin died and was buried in the little
+cemetery on the landward side of the island. Newbegin was a man of
+about forty-eight, without family or near connections, and eccentric to
+a degree that sometimes inspired questions as to his sanity. What money
+he had earned by many seasons' fishing upon the banks was invested in
+quarters of two small mackerel schooners, the remainder of which
+belonged to John Hodgeson, the richest man on Pocock, who was estimated
+by good authorities to be worth thirteen or fourteen thousand dollars.
+
+"Newbegin was not without a certain kind of culture. He had read a good
+deal of the odds and ends of literature and, as a simple-minded islander
+expressed it in my hearing, knew more bookfuls than anybody on the
+island. He was naturally an intelligent man; and he might have attained
+influence in the community had it not been for his utter aimlessness of
+character, his indifference to fortune, and his consuming thirst for
+rum.
+
+"Many yachtsmen who have had occasion to stop at Pocock for water or for
+harbor shelter during eastern cruises, will remember a long, listless
+figure, astonishingly attired in blue army pants, rubber boots, loose
+toga made of some bright chintz material, and very bad hat, staggering
+through the little settlement, followed by a rabble of jeering brats,
+and pausing to strike uncertain blows at those within reach of the dead
+sculpin which he usually carried round by the tail. This was John
+Newbegin."
+
+
+HIS SUDDEN DEATH
+
+"As I have already remarked, he died four years ago last April. The
+_Mary Emmeline_, one of the little schooners in which he owned, had
+returned from the eastward, and had smuggled, or 'run in' a quantity of
+St. John brandy. Newbegin had a solitary and protracted debauch. He was
+missed from his accustomed walks for several days, and when the
+islanders broke into the hovel where he lived, close down to the seaweed
+and almost within reach of the incoming tide, they found him dead on the
+floor, with an emptied demijohn hard by his head.
+
+"After the primitive custom of the island, they interred John Newbegin's
+remains without coroner's inquest, burial certificate, or funeral
+services, and in the excitement of a large catch of porgies that summer,
+soon forgot him and his friendless life. His interest in the _Mary
+Emmeline_ and the _Prettyboat_ recurred to John Hodgeson; and as nobody
+came forward to demand an administration of the estate, it was never
+administered. The forms of law are but loosely followed in some of these
+marginal localities."
+
+
+HIS REAPPEARANCE AT POCOCK
+
+"Well, my dear ----, four years and four months had brought their quota
+of varying seasons to Pocock Island when John Newbegin reappeared under
+the following circumstances:
+
+"In the latter part of last August, as you may remember, there was a
+heavy gale all along our Atlantic coast. During this storm the squadron
+of the Naugatuck Yacht Club, which was returning from a summer cruise as
+far as Campobello, was forced to take shelter in the harbor to the
+leeward of Pocock Island. The gentlemen of the club spent three days at
+the little settlement ashore. Among the party was Mr. R---- E----, by
+which name you will recognize a medium of celebrity, and one who has
+been particularly successful in materializations. At the desire of his
+companions, and to relieve the tedium of their detention, Mr.
+E---- improvised a cabinet in the little schoolhouse at Pocock, and gave
+a _séance_, to the delight of his fellow yachtsmen and the utter
+bewilderment of such natives as were permitted to witness the
+manifestations.
+
+"The conditions appeared unusually favorable to spirit appearances and
+the _séance_ was upon the whole perhaps the most remarkable that Mr.
+E---- ever held. It was all the more remarkable because the surroundings
+were such that the most prejudiced skeptic could discover no possibility
+of trickery.
+
+"The first form to issue from the wood closet which constituted the
+cabinet, when Mr. E---- had been tied therein by a committee of old
+sailors from the yachts, was that of an Indian chief who announced
+himself as Hock-a-mock, and who retired after dancing a 'Harvest Moon'
+_pas seul_, and declaring himself in very emphatic terms, as opposed to
+the present Indian policy of the Administration. Hock-a-mock was
+succeeded by the aunt of one of the yachtsmen, who identified herself
+beyond question by allusion to family matters and by displaying the scar
+of a burn upon her left arm, received while making tomato catsup upon
+earth. Then came successively a child whom none present recognized, a
+French Canadian who could not talk English, and a portly gentleman who
+introduced himself as William King, first Governor of Maine. These in
+turn reëntered the cabinet and were seen no more.
+
+"It was some time before another spirit manifested itself, and Mr. E----
+gave directions that the lights be turned down still further. Then the
+door of the wood closet was slowly opened and a singular figure in
+rubber boots and a species of Dolly Varden garment emerged, bringing a
+dead fish in his right hand."
+
+
+HIS DETERMINATION TO REMAIN
+
+"The city men who were present, I am told, thought that the medium was
+masquerading in grotesque habiliments for the more complete astonishment
+of the islanders, but these latter rose from their seats and exclaimed
+with one consent: 'It is John Newbegin!' And then, in not unnatural
+terror of the apparition they turned and fled from the schoolroom,
+uttering dismal cries.
+
+"John Newbegin came calmly forward and turned up the solitary kerosene
+lamp that shed uncertain light over the proceedings. He then sat down in
+the teacher's chair, folded his arms, and looked complacently about him.
+
+"'You might as well untie the medium,' he finally remarked. 'I propose
+to remain in the materialized condition.'
+
+"And he did remain. When the party left the schoolhouse among them
+walked John Newbegin, as truly a being of flesh and blood as any man of
+them. From that day to this, he has been a living inhabitant of Pocock
+Island, eating, drinking, (water only) and sleeping after the manner of
+men. The yachtsmen who made sail for Bar Harbor the very next morning,
+probably believe that he was a fraud hired for the occasion by Mr.
+E----. But the people of Pocock, who laid him out, dug his grave, and
+put him into it four years ago, know that John Newbegin has come back to
+them from a land they know not of."
+
+
+A SINGULAR MEMBER OF SOCIETY
+
+"The idea, of having a ghost--somewhat more condensed it is true than
+the traditional ghost--as a member was not at first overpleasing to the
+311 inhabitants of Pocock Island. To this day, they are a little
+sensitive upon the subject, feeling evidently that if the matter got
+abroad, it might injure the sale of the really excellent porgy oil
+which is the product of their sole manufacturing interest. This
+reluctance to advertise the skeleton in their closet, superadded to the
+slowness of these obtuse, fishy, matter-of-fact people to recognize the
+transcendent importance of the case, must be accepted as explanation of
+the fact that John Newbegin's spirit has been on earth between three and
+four months, and yet the singular circumstance is not known to the whole
+country.
+
+"But the Pocockians have at last come to see that a spirit is not
+necessarily a malevolent spirit, and accepting his presence as a fact in
+their stolid, unreasoning way, they are quite neighborly and sociable
+with Mr. Newbegin.
+
+"I know that your first question will be: 'Is there sufficient proof of
+his ever having been dead?' To this I answer unhesitatingly, 'Yes.' He
+was too well-known a character and too many people saw the corpse to
+admit of any mistake on this point. I may add here that it was at one
+time proposed to disinter the original remains, but that project was
+abandoned in deference to the wishes of Mr. Newbegin, who feels a
+natural delicacy about having his first set of bones disturbed from
+motives of mere curiosity."
+
+
+AN INTERVIEW WITH A DEAD MAN
+
+"You will readily believe that I took occasion to see and converse with
+John Newbegin. I found him affable and even communicative. He is
+perfectly aware of his doubtful status as a being, but is in hopes that
+at some future time there may be legislation that shall correctly define
+his position and the position of any spirit who may follow him into the
+material world. The only point upon which he is reticent is his
+experience during the four years that elapsed between his death and his
+reappearance at Pocock. It is to be presumed that the memory is not a
+pleasant one: at least he never speaks of this period. He candidly
+admits, however, that he is glad to get back to earth and that he
+embraced the very first opportunity to be materialized.
+
+"Mr. Newbegin says that he is consumed with remorse for the wasted years
+of his previous existence. Indeed, his conduct during the past three
+months would show that this regret is genuine. He has discarded his
+eccentric costume, and dresses like a reasonable spirit. He has not
+touched liquor since his reappearance. He has embarked in the porgy oil
+business, and his operations already rival that of Hodgeson, his old
+partner in the _Mary Emmeline_ and the _Prettyboat_. By the way,
+Newbegin threatens to sue Hodgeson for his individed quarter in each of
+these vessels, and this interesting case therefore bids fair to be
+thoroughly investigated in the courts.
+
+"As a business man, he is generally esteemed on the Island, although
+there is a noticeable reluctance to discount his paper at long dates. In
+short, Mr. John Newbegin is a most respectable citizen (if a dead man
+can be a citizen) and has announced his intention of running for the
+next Legislature!"
+
+
+IN CONCLUSION
+
+"And now, my dear ----, I have told you the substance of all I know
+respecting this strange, strange case. Yet, after all, why so strange?
+We accepted materialization at Chittenden. Is this any more than the
+logical issue of that admission? If the spirit may return to earth,
+clothed in flesh and blood and all the physical attributes of humanity,
+why may it not remain on earth as long as it sees fit?
+
+"Thinking of it from whatever standpoint, I cannot but regard John
+Newbegin as the pioneer of a possibly large immigration from the spirit
+world. The bars once down, a whole flock will come trooping back to
+earth. Death will lose its significance altogether. And when I think of
+the disturbance which will result in our social relations, of the
+overthrow of all accepted institutions, and of the nullification of all
+principles of political economy, law, and religion, I am lost in
+perplexity and apprehension."
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST-SHIP
+
+BY RICHARD MIDDLETON
+
+From _The Ghost-Ship_ by Richard Middleton. Published by permission of
+Mitchell Kennerley, and taken from the volume, _The Ghost-Ship and Other
+Stories_.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost-Ship
+
+BY RICHARD MIDDLETON
+
+
+Fairfield is a little village lying near the Portsmouth Road, about
+halfway between London and the sea. Strangers, who now and then find it
+by accident, call it a pretty, old-fashioned place; we who live in it
+and call it home don't find anything very pretty about it, but we should
+be sorry to live anywhere else. Our minds have taken the shape of the
+inn and the church and the green, I suppose. At all events, we never
+feel comfortable out of Fairfield.
+
+Of course the cockneys, with their vasty houses and noise-ridden
+streets, can call us rustics if they choose; but for all that, Fairfield
+is a better place to live in than London. Doctor says that when he goes
+to London his mind is bruised with the weight of the houses, and he was
+a cockney born. He had to live there himself when he was a little chap,
+but he knows better now. You gentlemen may laugh--perhaps some of you
+come from London-way, but it seems to me that a witness like that is
+worth a gallon of arguments.
+
+Dull? Well, you might find it dull, but I assure you that I've listened
+to all the London yarns you have spun to-night, and they're absolutely
+nothing to the things that happen at Fairfield. It's because of our way
+of thinking, and minding our own business. If one of your Londoners was
+set down on the green of a Saturday night when the ghosts of the lads
+who died in the war keep tryst with the lasses who lie in the
+churchyard, he couldn't help being curious and interfering, and then the
+ghosts would go somewhere where it was quieter. But we just let them
+come and go and don't make any fuss, and in consequence Fairfield is the
+ghostiest place in all England. Why, I've seen a headless man sitting on
+the edge of the well in broad daylight, and the children playing about
+his feet as if he were their father. Take my word for it, spirits know
+when they are well off as much as human beings.
+
+Still, I must admit that the thing I'm going to tell you about was queer
+even for our part of the world, where three packs of ghost-hounds hunt
+regularly during the season, and blacksmith's great-grandfather is busy
+all night shoeing the dead gentlemen's horses. Now that's a thing that
+wouldn't happen in London, because of their interfering ways; but
+blacksmith he lies up aloft and sleeps as quiet as a lamb. Once when he
+had a bad head he shouted down to them not to make so much noise, and
+in the morning he found an old guinea left on the anvil as an apology.
+He wears it on his watch-chain now. But I must get on with my story; if
+I start telling you about the queer happenings at Fairfield, I'll never
+stop.
+
+It all came of the great storm in the spring of '97, the year that we
+had two great storms. This was the first one, and I remember it well,
+because I found in the morning that it had lifted the thatch of my
+pigsty into the widow's garden as clean as a boy's kite. When I looked
+over the hedge, widow--Tom Lamport's widow that was--was prodding for
+her nasturtiums with a daisy grubber. After I had watched her for a
+little I went down to the Fox and Grapes to tell landlord what she had
+said to me. Landlord he laughed, being a married man and at ease with
+the sex. "Come to that," he said, "the tempest has blowed something into
+my field. A kind of a ship I think it would be."
+
+I was surprised at that until he explained that it was only a
+ghost-ship, and would do no hurt to the turnips. We argued that it had
+been blown up from the sea at Portsmouth, and then we talked of
+something else. There were two slates down at the parsonage and a big
+tree in Lumley's meadow. It was a rare storm.
+
+I reckon the wind had blown our ghosts all over England. They were
+coming back for days afterward with foundered horses, and as footsore as
+possible, and they were so glad to get back to Fairfield that some of
+them walked up the street crying like little children. Squire said that
+his great-grandfather's great-grandfather hadn't looked so dead-beat
+since the battle of Naseby, and he's an educated man.
+
+What with one thing and another, I should think it was a week before we
+got straight again, and then one afternoon I met the landlord on the
+green, and he had a worried face. "I wish you'd come and have a look at
+that ship in my field," he said to me. "It seems to me it's leaning real
+hard on the turnips. I can't bear thinking what the missus will say when
+she sees it."
+
+I walked down the lane with him, and, sure enough, there was a ship in
+the middle of his field, but such a ship as no man had seen on the water
+for three hundred years, let alone in the middle of a turnipfield. It
+was all painted black, and covered with carvings, and there was a great
+bay-window in the stern, for all the world like the squire's
+drawing-room. There was a crowd of little black cannon on deck and
+looking out of her port-holes, and she was anchored at each end to the
+hard ground. I have seen the wonders of the world on picture-postcards,
+but I have never seen anything to equal that.
+
+"She seems very solid for a ghost-ship," I said, seeing that landlord
+was bothered.
+
+"I should say it's a betwixt and between," he answered, puzzling it
+over; "but it's going to spoil a matter of fifty turnips, and missus
+she'll want it moved." We went up to her and touched the side, and it
+was as hard as a real ship. "Now, there's folks in England would call
+that very curious," he said.
+
+Now, I don't know much about ships, but I should think that that
+ghost-ship weighed a solid two hundred tons, and it seemed to me that
+she had come to stay; so that I felt sorry for landlord, who was a
+married man. "All the horses in Fairfield won't move her out of my
+turnips," he said, frowning at her.
+
+Just then we heard a noise on her deck, and we looked up and saw that a
+man had come out of her front cabin and was looking down at us very
+peaceably. He was dressed in a black uniform set off with rusty gold
+lace, and he had a great cutlass by his side in a brass sheath. "I'm
+Captain Bartholomew Roberts," he said in a gentleman's voice, "put in
+for recruits. I seem to have brought her rather far up the harbor."
+
+"Harbor!" cried landlord. "Why, you're fifty miles from the sea!"
+
+Captain Roberts didn't turn a hair. "So much as that, is it?" he said
+coolly. "Well, it's of no consequence."
+
+Landlord was a bit upset at this. "I don't want to be unneighborly," he
+said, "but I wish you hadn't brought your ship into my field. You see,
+my wife sets great store on these turnips."
+
+The captain took a pinch of snuff out of a fine gold box that he pulled
+out of his pocket, and dusted his fingers with a silk handkerchief in a
+very genteel fashion. "I'm only here for a few months," he said, "but
+if a testimony of my esteem would pacify your good lady, I should be
+content," and with the words he loosed a great gold brooch from the neck
+of his coat and tossed it down to landlord.
+
+Landlord blushed as red as a strawberry. "I'm not denying she's fond of
+jewelry," he said; "but it's too much for half a sackful of turnips."
+Indeed it was a handsome brooch.
+
+The captain laughed. "Tut, man!" he said, "it's a forced sale, and you
+deserve a good price. Say no more about it," and nodding good day to us,
+he turned on his heel and went into the cabin. Landlord walked back up
+the lane like a man with a weight off his mind. "That tempest has blowed
+me a bit of luck," he said; "the missus will be main pleased with that
+brooch. It's better than blacksmith's guinea any day."
+
+'97 was Jubilee year--the year of the second Jubilee, you remember, and
+we had great doings at Fairfield, so that we hadn't much time to bother
+about the ghost-ship, though, anyhow, it isn't our way to meddle in
+things that don't concern us. Landlord he saw his tenant once or twice
+when he was hoeing his turnips, and passed the time of day and
+landlord's wife wore her new brooch to church every Sunday. But we
+didn't mix much with the ghosts at any time, all except an idiot lad
+there was in the village, and he didn't know the difference between a
+man and a ghost, poor innocent! On Jubilee day, however, somebody told
+Captain Roberts why the church bells were ringing, and he hoisted a
+flag and fired off his guns like a loyal Englishman. 'T is true the guns
+were shotted, and one of the round shot knocked a hole in Farmer
+Johnstone's barn, but nobody thought much of that in such a season of
+rejoicing.
+
+It wasn't till our celebrations were over that we noticed that anything
+was wrong in Fairfield. 'T was shoemaker who told me first about it one
+morning at the Fox and Grapes. "You know my great-great-uncle?" he said
+to me.
+
+"You mean Joshua, the quiet lad?" I answered, knowing him well.
+
+"Quiet!" said shoemaker, indignantly. "Quiet you call him, coming home
+at three o'clock every morning as drunk as a magistrate and waking up
+the whole house with his noise!"
+
+"Why, it can't be Joshua," I said, for I knew him for one of the most
+respectable young ghosts in the village.
+
+"Joshua it is," said shoemaker; "and one of these nights he'll find
+himself out in the street if he isn't careful."
+
+This kind of talk shocked me, I can tell you, for I don't like to hear a
+man abusing his own family, and I could hardly believe that a steady
+youngster like Joshua had taken to drink. But just then in came butcher
+Aylwin in such a temper that he could hardly drink his beer. "The young
+puppy! The young puppy!" he kept on saying, and it was some time before
+shoemaker and I found out that he was talking about his ancestor that
+fell at Senlac.
+
+"Drink?" said shoemaker, hopefully, for we all like company in our
+misfortunes, and butcher nodded grimly. "The young noodle!" he said,
+emptying his tankard.
+
+Well, after that I kept my ears open, and it was the same story all over
+the village. There was hardly a young man among all the ghosts of
+Fairfield who didn't roll home in the small hours of the morning the
+worse for liquor. I used to wake up in the night and hear them stumble
+past my house, singing outrageous songs. The worst of it was that we
+couldn't keep the scandal to ourselves, and the folk at Greenhill began
+to talk of "sodden Fairfield" and taught their children to sing a song
+about us:
+
+    Sodden Fairfield, sodden Fairfield,
+      Has no use for bread and butter,
+    Rum for breakfast, rum for dinner,
+      Rum for tea, and rum for supper!
+
+We are easy-going in our village, but we didn't like that.
+
+Of course we soon found out where the young fellows went to get the
+drink, and landlord was terribly cut up that his tenant should have
+turned out so badly; but his wife wouldn't hear of parting with the
+brooch, so he couldn't give the captain notice to quit. But as time went
+on, things grew from bad to worse, and at all hours of the day you
+would see those young reprobates sleeping it off on the village green.
+Nearly every afternoon a ghost-wagon used to jolt down to the ship with
+a lading of rum, and though the older ghosts seemed inclined to give the
+captain's hospitality the go-by, the youngsters were neither to hold nor
+to bind.
+
+So one afternoon when I was taking my nap, I heard a knock at the door,
+and there was parson, looking very serious, like a man with a job before
+him that he didn't altogether relish.
+
+"I'm going down to talk to the captain about all this drunkenness in the
+village, and I want you to come with me," he said straight out.
+
+I can't say that I fancied the visit much myself, and I tried to hint to
+parson that as, after all, they were only a lot of ghosts, it didn't
+much matter.
+
+"Dead or alive, I'm responsible for their good conduct," he said, "and
+I'm going to do my duty and put a stop to this continued disorder. And
+you are coming with me, John Simmons."
+
+So I went, parson being a persuasive kind of man.
+
+We went down to the ship, and as we approached her, I could see the
+captain tasting the air on deck. When he saw parson, he took off his hat
+very politely, and I can tell you that I was relieved to find that he
+had a proper respect for the cloth. Parson acknowledged his salute, and
+spoke out stoutly enough.
+
+"Sir, I should be glad to have a word with you."
+
+"Come on board, sir; come on board," said the captain, and I could tell
+by his voice that he knew why we were there.
+
+Parson and I climbed up an uneasy kind of ladder, and the captain took
+us into the great cabin at the back of the ship, where the bay-window
+was. It was the most wonderful place you ever saw in your life, all full
+of gold and silver plate, swords with jeweled scabbards, carved oak
+chairs, and great chests that looked as though they were bursting with
+guineas. Even parson was surprised, and he did not shake his head very
+hard when the captain took down some silver cups and poured us out a
+drink of rum. I tasted mine, and I don't mind saying that it changed my
+view of things entirely. There was nothing betwixt and between about
+that rum, and I felt that it was ridiculous to blame the lads for
+drinking too much of stuff like that. It seemed to fill my veins with
+honey and fire.
+
+Parson put the case squarely to the captain, but I didn't listen much to
+what he said. I was busy sipping my drink and looking through the window
+at the fishes swimming to and fro over landlord's turnips. Just then it
+seemed the most natural thing in the world that they should be there,
+though afterward, of course, I could see that that proved it was a
+ghost-ship.
+
+But even then I thought it was queer when I saw a drowned sailor float
+by in the thin air, with his hair and beard all full of bubbles. It was
+the first time I had seen anything quite like that at Fairfield.
+
+All the time I was regarding the wonders of the deep, parson was telling
+Captain Roberts how there was no peace or rest in the village owing to
+the curse of drunkenness, and what a bad example the youngsters were
+setting to the older ghosts. The captain listened very attentively, and
+put in a word only now and then about boys being boys and young men
+sowing their wild oats. But when parson had finished his speech, he
+filled up our silver cups and said to parson with a flourish:
+
+"I should be sorry to cause trouble anywhere where I have been made
+welcome, and you will be glad to hear that I put to sea to-morrow night.
+And now you must drink me a prosperous voyage."
+
+So we all stood up and drank the toast with honor, and that noble rum
+was like hot oil in my veins.
+
+After that, captain showed us some of the curiosities he had brought
+back from foreign parts, and we were greatly amazed, though afterward I
+couldn't clearly remember what they were. And then I found myself
+walking across the turnips with parson, and I was telling him of the
+glories of the deep that I had seen through the window of the ship. He
+turned on me severely.
+
+"If I were you, John Simmons," he said, "I should go straight home to
+bed." He has a way of putting things that wouldn't occur to an ordinary
+man, has parson, and I did as he told me.
+
+Well, next day it came on to blow, and it blew harder and harder, till
+about eight o'clock at night I heard a noise and looked out into the
+garden. I dare say you won't believe me,--it seems a bit tall even to
+me,--but the wind had lifted the thatch of my pigsty into the widow's
+garden a second time. I thought I wouldn't wait to hear what widow had
+to say about it, so I went across the green to the Fox and Grapes, and
+the wind was so strong that I danced along on tiptoe like a girl at the
+fair. When I got to the inn, landlord had to help me shut the door. It
+seemed as though a dozen goats were pushing against it to come in out of
+the storm.
+
+"It's a powerful tempest," he said, drawing the beer. "I hear there's a
+chimney down at Dickory End."
+
+"It's a funny thing how these sailors know about the weather," I
+answered. "When captain said he was going to-night, I was thinking it
+would take a capful of wind to carry the ship back to sea; and now
+here's more than a capful."
+
+"Ah, yes," said landlord; "it's to-night he goes true enough, and mind
+you, though he treated me handsome over the rent, I'm not sure it's a
+loss to the village. I don't hold with gentrice, who fetch their drink
+from London instead of helping local traders to get their living."
+
+"But you haven't got any rum like his," I said, to draw him out.
+
+His neck grew red above his collar, and I was afraid I'd gone too far;
+but after a while he got his breath with a grunt.
+
+"John Simmons," he said, "if you've come down here this windy night to
+talk a lot of fool's talk, you've wasted a journey."
+
+Well, of course then I had to smooth him down with praising his rum, and
+Heaven forgive me for swearing it was better than captain's. For the
+like of that rum no living lips have tasted save mine and parson's. But
+somehow or other I brought landlord round, and presently we must have a
+glass of his best to prove its quality.
+
+"Beat that if you can," he cried, and we both raised our glasses to our
+mouths, only to stop halfway and look at each other in amaze. For the
+wind that had been howling outside like an outrageous dog had all of a
+sudden turned as melodious as the carol-boys of a Christmas eve.
+
+"Surely that's not my Martha," whispered landlord, Martha being his
+great-aunt who lived in the loft overhead.
+
+We went to the door, and the wind burst it open so that the handle was
+driven clean into the plaster of the wall, but we didn't think about
+that at the time; for over our heads, sailing very comfortably through
+the windy stars, was the ship that had passed the summer in landlord's
+field. Her port-holes and her bay-window were blazing with lights, and
+there was a noise of singing and fiddling on her decks. "He's gone!"
+shouted landlord above the storm, "and he's taken half the village with
+him." I could only nod in answer, not having lungs like bellows of
+leather.
+
+In the morning we were able to measure the strength of the storm, and
+over and above my pigsty, there was damage enough wrought in the village
+to keep us busy. True it is that the children had to break down no
+branches for the firing that autumn, since the wind had strewn the woods
+with more than they could carry away. Many of our ghosts were scattered
+abroad, but this time very few came back, all the young men having
+sailed with captain; and not only ghosts, for a poor half-witted lad was
+missing, and we reckoned that he had stowed himself away or perhaps
+shipped as cabin-boy, not knowing any better.
+
+What with the lamentations of the ghost girls and the grumblings of
+families who had lost ancestors, the village was upset for a while, and
+the funny thing was that it was the folk who had complained most of the
+carryings-on of the youngsters who made most noise now that they were
+gone. I hadn't any sympathy with shoemaker or butcher, who ran about
+saying how much they missed their lads, but it made me grieve to hear
+the poor bereaved girls calling their lovers by name on the village
+green at nightfall. It didn't seem fair to me that they should have lost
+their men a second time, after giving up life in order to join them, as
+like as not. Still, not even a spirit can be sorry forever, and after a
+few months we made up our mind that the folk who had sailed in the ship
+were never coming back; and we didn't talk about it any more.
+
+And then one day, I dare say it would be a couple of years after, when
+the whole business was quite forgotten, who should come trapesing along
+the road from Portsmouth but the daft lad who had gone away with the
+ship without waiting till he was dead to become a ghost. You never saw
+such a boy as that in all your life. He had a great rusty cutlass
+hanging to a string at his waist, and he was tattooed all over in fine
+colors, so that even his face looked like a girl's sampler. He had a
+handkerchief in his hand full of foreign shells and old-fashioned pieces
+of small money, very curious, and he walked up to the well outside his
+mother's house and drew himself a drink as if he had been nowhere in
+particular.
+
+The worst of it was that he had come back as soft-headed as he went, and
+try as we might, we couldn't get anything reasonable out of him. He
+talked a lot of gibberish about keelhauling and walking the plank and
+crimson murders--things which a decent sailor should know nothing about,
+so that it seemed to me that for all his manners captain had been more
+of a pirate than a gentleman mariner. But to draw sense out of that boy
+was as hard as picking cherries off a crab-tree. One silly tale he had
+that he kept on drifting back to, and to hear him you would have thought
+that it was the only thing that happened to him in his life.
+
+"We was at anchor," he would say, "off an island called the Basket of
+Flowers, and the sailors had caught a lot of parrots and we were
+teaching them to swear. Up and down the decks, up and down the decks,
+and the language they used was dreadful. Then we looked up and saw the
+masts of the Spanish ship outside the harbor. Outside the harbor they
+were, so we threw the parrots into the sea, and sailed out to fight. And
+all the parrots were drowneded in the sea, and the language they used
+was dreadful."
+
+That's the sort of boy he was--nothing but silly talk of parrots when we
+asked him about the fighting. And we never had a chance of teaching him
+better, for two days after he ran away again, and hasn't been seen
+since.
+
+That's my story, and I assure you that things like that are happening at
+Fairfield all the time. The ship has never come back, but somehow, as
+people grow older, they seem to think that one of these windy nights
+she'll come sailing in over the hedges with all the lost ghosts on
+board. Well, when she comes, she'll be welcome. There's one ghost lass
+that has never grown tired of waiting for her lad to return. Every night
+you'll see her out on the green, straining her poor eyes with looking
+for the mast-lights among the stars. A faithful lass you'd call her, and
+I'm thinking you'd be right.
+
+Landlord's field wasn't a penny the worse for the visit; but they do say
+that since then the turnips that have been grown in it have tasted of
+rum.
+
+
+
+
+THE TRANSPLANTED GHOST
+
+A CHRISTMAS STORY
+
+BY WALLACE IRWIN
+
+From _Everybody's Magazine_. By permission of _Everybody's_ and Wallace
+Irwin.
+
+
+
+
+The Transplanted Ghost
+
+A CHRISTMAS STORY
+
+BY WALLACE IRWIN
+
+
+When Aunt Elizabeth asked me to spend Christmas with her at Seven Oaks
+she appended a peculiar request to her letter. "Like a good fellow," she
+wrote, "won't you drop off at Perkinsville, Ohio, on your way, and take
+a look at Gauntmoor Castle? They say it's a wonderful old pile; and its
+history is in many ways connected with that of our own family. As long
+as you're the last of the Geoffray Pierreponts, such things ought to
+interest you." Like her auburn namesake who bossed the Thames of yore,
+sweet, red-haired, romantic autocrat, Aunt Elizabeth! Her wishes were
+commands.
+
+"What the deuce is Aunt Elizabeth up to now?" I asked Tim Cole, my law
+partner, whom I found in my rooms smoking my tobacco. "Why should I be
+inspecting Gauntmoor Castle--and what is a castle named Gauntmoor doing
+in Perkinsville, Ohio, anyway? Perkinsville sounds like the Middle West,
+and Gauntmoor sounds like the Middle Ages."
+
+"Right in both analyses," said the pipe-poaching Tim. "Castle Gauntmoor
+_is_ from the Middle Ages, and we all know about where in Ohio
+Perkinsville is. But is it possible that you, twenty-seven years old and
+a college graduate, haven't heard of Thaddeus Hobson, the Marvelous
+Millionaire?" I shook my head. "The papers have been full of Hobson in
+the past two or three years," said Tim. "It was in 1898, I think, that
+Fate jumped Thaddeus Hobson to the golden Olympus. He was first head
+salesman in the village hardware store, then he formulated so successful
+a scheme to clean up the Tin Plate Combine that he put away a fabulous
+number of millions in a year, and subsequently went to England. Finally
+he set his heart on Norman architecture. After a search he found the
+ancient Castle Gauntmoor still habitable and for sale. He thrilled the
+British comic papers by his offer to buy the castle and move it to
+America. Hobson saw the property, telegraphed to London, and closed the
+deal in two hours. And an army of laborers at once began taking the
+Gauntmoor to pieces, stone by stone.
+
+"Transporting that relic to America involved a cost in labor and
+ingenuity comparable with nothing that has yet happened. Moving the
+Great Pyramid would be a lighter job, perhaps. Thousands of tons of
+scarred and medieval granite were carried to the railroads, freighted to
+the sea, and dragged across the Atlantic in whopping big lighters
+chartered for the job. And the next the newspapers knew, the monster
+was set up in Perkinsville, Ohio."
+
+"But why did he do it?" I asked.
+
+"Who knows?" said Tim. "Ingrowing sentiment--unlimited capital--wanted
+to do something for the Home Town, probably; wanted to beautify the
+village that gave him his start--and didn't know how to go at it. Well,
+so long!" he called out, as I seized my hat and streaked for the train.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was dinner time when the train pulled in at Perkinsville. The town
+was as undistinguished as I expected. I was too hungry to care about
+castles at the moment, so I took the 'bus for the Commercial Hotel, an
+establishment that seemed to live up to its name, both in sentiment and
+in accommodation. The landlord, Mr. Spike, referred bitterly to the
+castle, which, he explained, was, by its dominating presence, "spoilin'
+the prosperous appearance of Perkinsville." Dinner over, he led me to a
+side porch.
+
+"How does Perkinsville look with that--with that curio squattin' on top
+of it?" asked Mr. Spike sternly, as he pointed over the local livery
+stable, over Smith Brothers' Plow Works, over Odd Fellows' Hall, and up,
+up to the bleak hills beyond, where, poised like a stony coronet on a
+giant's brow, rose the great Norman towers and frowning buttresses of
+Gauntmoor Castle. I rubbed my eyes. No, it _couldn't_ be real--it must
+be a wizard's work!
+
+"What's old Hobson got out of it?" said Mr. Spike in my ear. "Nothin'
+but an old stone barn, where he can set all day nursin' a grouch and
+keepin' his daughter Anita--they do say he does--under lock and key for
+fear somebody's goin' to marry her for her money."
+
+Mr. Spike looked up at the ramparts defiantly, even as the Saxon churl
+must have gazed in an earlier, far sadder land.
+
+"It's romantic," I suggested.
+
+"Yes, _darn_ rheumatic," agreed Mr. Spike.
+
+"Is it open for visitors?" I asked innocently.
+
+"Hobson?" cackled Spike. "He'd no more welcome a stranger to that place
+than he'd welcome--a ghost. He's a hol-ee terror, Hobson!"
+
+Mr. Spike turned away to referee a pool game down in the barroom.
+
+The fires of a December sunset flared behind Gauntmoor and cast the grim
+shadows of Medievalism over Mediocrity, which lay below. Presently the
+light faded, and I grew tired of gazing. Since Hobson would permit no
+tourists to inspect his castle, why was I here on this foolish trip?
+Already I was planning to wire Aunt Elizabeth a sarcastic reference to
+being marooned at Christmas with a castle on my hands, when a voice at
+my shoulder said suddenly:
+
+"Mr. Hobson sends his compliments, sir, and wants to know would Mr.
+Pierrepont come up to Gauntmoor for the night?"
+
+A groom in a plum-colored livery stood at my elbow. A light station
+wagon was waiting just outside. How the deuce did Hobson know my name?
+What did he want of me at Gauntmoor this time of night? Yet prospects of
+bed and breakfast away from the Commercial lured me strangely.
+
+"Sure, Mr. Pierrepont will be delighted," I announced, leaping into the
+vehicle, and soon we were mounting upward, battling with the winds
+around the time-scarred walls. The wagon stopped at the great gate. A
+horn sounded from within, the gate swung open, a drawbridge fell with a
+hideous creaking of machinery, and we passed in, twenty or thirty feet
+above the snow-drifted moat. Beyond the portcullis a dim door swung
+open. Some sort of seneschal met us with a light and led us below the
+twilight arches, where beyond, I could catch glimpses of the baileys and
+courts and the donjon tower against the heavy ramparts.
+
+The wind hooted through the high galleries as we passed; but the west
+wing, from its many windows and loopholes, blazed with cheerful yellow
+light. It looked nearly cozy. Into a tall, gaunt tower we plunged, down
+a winding staircase, and suddenly we came into a vast hall, stately with
+tapestries and innumerable monkish carvings--and all brightly lighted
+with electricity!
+
+A little fat man sat smoking in a chair near the fire. When I entered he
+was in his shirt sleeves, reading a newspaper, but when a footman
+announced my name the little man, in a state of great nervousness,
+jumped to his feet and threw on a coat, fidgeting painfully with the
+armholes. As he came toward me, I noticed that he was perfectly bald. He
+looked dyspeptic and discontented, like a practical man trying vainly to
+adjust his busy habits to a lazy life. Obviously he didn't go with the
+rest of the furniture.
+
+"Pleased to see you, Mr. Pierrepont," he said, looking me over carefully
+as if he thought of buying me. "Geoffray Pierrepont--tut, tut!--ain't it
+queer!"
+
+"Queer!" I said rather peevishly. "What's queer about it?"
+
+"Excuse me, did I say queer? I didn't mean to be impolite, sir--I was
+just thinking, that's all."
+
+You could hear the demon Army of the Winds scaling the walls outside.
+
+"Maybe you thought it kind of abrupt, Mr. Pierrepont, me asking you up
+here so unceremonious," he said. "My daughter Annie, she tells me I
+ought to live up to the looks of the place; but I've got my notions. To
+tell you the truth, I'm in an awful quandary about this Antique Castle
+business and when I heard you was at the hotel, I thought you might help
+me out some way. You see you----"
+
+He led me to a chair and offered me a fat cigar.
+
+"Young man," he said, "when you get your head above water and make good
+in the world--if you ever do--don't fool with curios, don't monkey with
+antiques. Keep away from castles. They're like everything else sold by
+curio dealers--all humbug. Look nice, yes. But get 'em over to America
+and they either fall to pieces or the paint comes off. Whether it's a
+chair or a castle--same old story. The sly scalawags that sell you the
+goods won't live up to their contracts."
+
+"Hasn't Gauntmoor all the ancient inconveniences a Robber Baron could
+wish?" I asked.
+
+"It ain't," announced Mr. Hobson. "Though it looks all right to a
+stranger, perhaps. There may be castles in the Old World got it on
+Gauntmoor for size--thank God I didn't buy 'em!--but for looks you can't
+beat Gauntmoor."
+
+"Comfortable?" I asked.
+
+"Can't complain. Modern plumbed throughout. Hard to heat, but I put an
+electric-light plant in the cellar. Daughter Annie's got a Colonial
+suite in the North Tower."
+
+"Well," I suggested, "if there's anything the castle lacks, you can buy
+it."
+
+"There's one thing money _can't_ buy," said Mr. Hobson, leaning very
+close and speaking in a sibilant whisper. "And that's ghosts!"
+
+"But who wants ghosts?" I inquired.
+
+"Now look here," said Mr. Hobson. "I'm a business man. When I bought
+Gauntmoor, the London scalawags that sold it to me gave me distinctly to
+understand that this was a Haunted Castle. They showed me a haunted
+chamber, showed me the haunted wall where the ghost walks, guaranteed
+the place to be the Spook Headquarters of the British Isles--and see
+what I got!" He snapped his fingers in disgust.
+
+"No results?"
+
+"Results? Stung! I've slept in that haunted room upstairs for a solid
+year. I've gazed night after night over the haunted rampart. I've even
+hired spiritualists to come and cut their didoes in the towers and
+donjon keep. No use. You can't get ghosts where they ain't."
+
+I expressed my sympathy.
+
+"I'm a plain man," said Hobson. "I ain't got any ancestors back of
+father, who was a blacksmith, and a good one, when sober. Somebody
+else's ancestors is what I looked for in this place--and I've got 'em,
+too, carved in wood and stone in the chapel out back of the tower. But
+statues and carvings ain't like ghosts to add tone to an ancient
+lineage."
+
+"Is there any legend?" I asked.
+
+"Haven't you heard it?" he exclaimed, looking at me sharply out of his
+small gray eyes. "It seems, 'way back in the sixteenth century, there
+was a harum-scarum young feller living in a neighboring castle, and he
+took an awful shine to Lady Katherine, daughter of the Earl of Cummyngs,
+who was boss of this place at that time. Now the young man who loved
+Miss--I mean Lady--Katherine was a sort of wild proposition. Old man
+wouldn't have him around the place; but young man kept hanging on till
+Earl ordered him off. Finally the old gent locked Lady Kitty in the
+donjon tower," said Mr. Hobson.
+
+"Too much shilly-shallying in _this_ generation," he went on. "Every
+house that's got a pretty girl ought to have a donjon keep. I've got
+both." He paused and wiped his brow.
+
+"This fresh young kid I'm telling you about, he thought he knew more
+than the old folks, so he got a rope ladder and climbed up the masonry
+one night, intending to bust into the tower where the girl was. But just
+as he got half across the wall--out yonder--his foot slipped and he
+broke his neck in the moat below. Consequence, Lady Kitty goes crazy and
+old Earl found dead a week later in his room. It was Christmas Eve when
+the boy was killed. That's the night his ghost's supposed to walk along
+the ramparts, give a shriek, and drop off--but the irritating thing
+about it all is, it don't ever happen."
+
+"And now, Mr. Hobson," I said, throwing away the butt of my cigar, "why
+am _I_ here? What have _I_ got to do with all this ghost business?"
+
+"I _want_ you to stay," said Hobson, beseechingly. "To-morrow night's
+Christmas Eve. I've figured it out that your influence, somehow, you
+being of the same blood, as it were, might encourage the ghost to come
+out and save the reputation of the castle."
+
+A servant brought candles, and Hobson turned to retire.
+
+"The same blood!" I shouted after him. "What on earth is the _name_ of
+the ghost?"
+
+"When he was alive his name was--Sir Geoffray de Pierrepont," said
+Thaddeus Hobson, his figure fading into the dimness beyond.
+
+I followed the servant with the candle aloft through chill and carven
+corridors, through galleries lined with faded portraits of forgotten
+lords. "Wheels!" I kept saying to myself. "The old man evidently thinks
+it takes a live Pierrepont to coax a dead one," and I laughed nervously
+as I entered the vast brown bedroom. I had to get on a chair in order to
+climb into the four-poster, a cheerful affair that looked like a royal
+funeral barge. At my head I noticed a carved device, seven mailed hands
+snatching at a sword with the motto: "CAVE ADSUM!"
+
+"Beware, I am here!" I translated. Who was here? Ghosts? Fudge! What
+hideous scenes had this chamber beheld of yore? What might not happen
+here now? Where, by the way, was old Hobson's daughter, Anita? Might not
+anything be possible? I covered my head with the bedclothes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next morning being mild and bright for December, and Thaddeus Hobson and
+his mysterious daughter not having showed up for breakfast, I amused
+myself by inspecting the exterior of the castle. In daylight I could see
+that Gauntmoor, as now restored, consisted of only a portion of the
+original structure. On the west side, near a sheer fall of forty or
+fifty feet, stood the donjon tower, a fine piece of medieval barbarism
+with a peaked roof. And, sure enough! I saw it all now. Running along
+the entire west side of the castle was a wonderful wall, stretching
+above the moat to a dizzy height. It was no difficult matter to mount
+this wall from the courtyard, above which it rose no more than eight or
+ten feet. I ascended by a rude sentry's staircase, and once on top I
+gazed upward at the tall medieval prison-place, which reared above me
+like a clumsy stone chimney. Just as I stood, at the top of the wall, I
+was ten or twelve feet below the lowest window of the donjon tower.
+This, then, was the wall that the ancient Pierrepont had scaled, and
+yonder was the donjon window that he had planned to plunder on that
+fatal night so long ago. And this was where Pierrepont the Ghost was
+supposed to appear!
+
+How the lover of spectral memory had managed to scale that wall from the
+outside, I could not quite make out. But once _on_ the wall, it was no
+trick to snatch the damsel from her durance vile. Just drop a long rope
+ladder from the wall to the moat, then crawl along the narrow ledge--got
+to be careful with a job like that--then up to the window of the donjon
+keep, and away with the Lady Fair. Why, that window above the ramparts
+would be an easy climb for a fellow with strong arms and a little nerve,
+as the face of the tower from the wall to the window was studded with
+ancient spikes and the projecting ends of beams.
+
+I counted the feet, one, two, three--and as I looked up at the window,
+a small, white hand reached out and a pink slip of paper dropped at my
+feet. It read:
+
+DEAR SIR: I'm Miss Hobson. I'm locked in the donjon tower. Father always
+locks me here when there's a young man about. It's a horrid,
+uncomfortable place. Won't you hurry and go?
+
+Yours respectfully,
+
+A. HOBSON.
+
+I knew it was easy. I swung myself aloft on the spikes and stones
+leading to the donjon window. When I was high enough I gazed in, my chin
+about even with the sill. And there I saw the prettiest girl I ever
+beheld, gazing down at a book tranquilly, as though gentlemanly rescuers
+were common as toads around that tower. She wore something soft and
+golden; her hair was night-black, and her eyes were that peculiar shade
+of gray that--but what's the use?
+
+"Pardon," I said, holding on with my right hand, lifting my hat with my
+left. "Pardon, am I addressing Miss Annie Hobson?"
+
+"You are not," she replied, only half looking up. "You are addressing
+Miss Anita Hobson. Calling me Annie is another little habit father ought
+to break himself of." She went on reading.
+
+"Is that a very interesting book?" I asked, because I didn't like to go
+without saying something more.
+
+"It isn't!" She arose suddenly and hurled the book into a corner. "It's
+Anthony Hope--and if there's anything I hate it's him. Father always
+gives me _Prisoner of Zenda_ and _Ivanhoe_ to read when he locks me into
+this donjon. Says I ought to read up on the situation. Do you think so?"
+
+"There are some other books in the library," I suggested. "Bernard Shaw
+and Kipling, you know. I'll run over and get you one."
+
+"That's fine--but no!" she besought, reaching out her hand to detain me.
+"No, don't go! If you went away you'd never come back. They never do."
+
+"Who never do?"
+
+"The young men. The very instant father sees one coming he pops me in
+the tower and turns the key. You see," she explained, "when I was in
+Italy I was engaged to a duke--he was a silly little thing and I was
+glad when he turned out bogus. But father took the deception awfully to
+heart and swore I should never be married for my money. Yet I don't see
+what else a young girl can expect," she added quite simply.
+
+I could have mentioned several hundred things.
+
+"He has no right!" I said sternly. "It's barbarous for him to treat a
+girl that way--especially his daughter."
+
+"Hush!" she said. "Dad's a good sort. But you can't measure him by other
+people's standards. And yet--oh, it's maddening, this life! Day after
+day--loneliness. Nothing but stone walls and rusty armor and books.
+We're rich, but what do we get out of it? I have nobody of my own age
+to talk to. How the years are passing! After a while--I'll be--an old
+maid. I'm twenty-one now!" I heard a sob. Her pretty head was bowed in
+her hands.
+
+Desperately I seized the bars of the window and miraculously they
+parted. I leaned across the sill and drew her hands gently down.
+
+"Listen to me," I said. "If I break in and steal you away from this,
+will you go?"
+
+"Go?" she said. "Where?"
+
+"My aunt lives at Seven Oaks, less than an hour from here by train. You
+can stay there till your father comes to his reason."
+
+"It's quite like father _never_ to come to his reason," she reflected.
+"Then I should have to be self-supporting. Of course, I should
+appreciate employment in a candy shop--I think I know all the principal
+kinds."
+
+"Will you go?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," she replied simply, "I'll go. But how can I get away from here?"
+
+"To-night," I said, "is Christmas Eve, when Pierrepont the Ghost is
+supposed to walk along the wall--right under this window. You don't
+believe that fairy story, do you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Neither do I. But can't you see? The haunted wall begins at my window
+on one end of the castle and ends at your window on the other. The bars
+of your cell, I see, are nearly all loose."
+
+"Yes," she laughed, "I pried them out with a pair of scissors."
+
+I could hear Hobson's voice across the court giving orders to servants.
+
+"Your father's coming. Remember to-night," I whispered.
+
+"Midnight," she said softly, smiling out at me. I could have faced
+flocks and flocks of dragons for her at that moment. The old man was
+coming nearer. I swung to the ground and escaped into a ruined court.
+
+Well, the hours that followed were anxious and busy for me. I worked in
+the glamour of romance like a soldier about to do some particularly
+brave and foolish thing. From the window of my room I looked down on the
+narrow, giddy wall below. It _was_ a brave and foolish thing. Among the
+rubbish in an old armory I found a coil of stout rope, forty or fifty
+feet of it. This I smuggled away. From a remote hall I borrowed a
+Crusader's helmet and spent the balance of the afternoon in my room
+practicing with a sheet across my shoulders, shroud-fashion.
+
+We dined grandly at eight, the old man and I. He drank thirstily and
+chatted about the ghost, as you might discuss the chances in a coming
+athletic event. After what seemed an age he looked at his watch and
+cried: "Whillikens! Eleven o'clock already! Well, I'll be going up to
+watch from the haunted room. I think, Jeff, that you'll bring me luck
+to-night."
+
+"I am sure I shall!" I answered sardonically, as he departed.
+
+Three quarters of an hour later, wearing the Crusader's helmet and
+swathed in a bedsheet, I let myself down from the window to the haunted
+wall below. It was moonlight, bitter cold as I crouched on the wall,
+waiting for the stroke of twelve, when I should act the spook and walk
+along that precarious ledge to rescue Anita.
+
+The "haunted wall," I observed from where I stood, was shaped like an
+irregular crescent, being in plain view of Hobson's "haunted room" at
+the middle, but not so at its north and south ends, where my chamber and
+Anita's tower were respectively situated. I pulled out my watch from
+under my winding-sheet. Three minutes of twelve. I drew down the vizor
+of my helmet and gathered up my cerements preparatory to walking the
+hundred feet of wall which would bring me in sight of the haunted room
+where old Hobson kept his vigil. Two minutes, one minute I waited,
+when--I suddenly realized I was not alone.
+
+A man wearing a long cloak and a feather in his cap was coming toward me
+along the moonlit masonry. Aha! So I was not the only masquerading swain
+calling on the captive princess in the prison tower. A jealous pang shot
+through me as I realized this.
+
+The man was within twenty feet of me, when I noticed something. He was
+not walking on the wall. _He was walking on air, three or four feet
+above the wall._ Nearer and nearer came the man--the Thing--now into
+the light of the moon, whose beams seemed to strike through his misty
+tissue like the thrust of a sword. I was horribly scared. My knees
+loosened under me, and I clutched the vines at my back to save me from
+falling into the moat below. Now I could see his face, and somehow fear
+seemed to leave me. His expression was so young and human.
+
+"Ghost of the Pierrepont," I thought, "whether you walk in shadow or in
+light, you lived among a race of Men!"
+
+His noble, pallid face seemed to burn with its own pale light, but his
+eyes were in darkness. He was now within two yards of me. I could see
+the dagger at his belt. I could see the gory cut on his forehead. I
+attempted to speak, but my voice creaked like a rusty hinge. He neither
+heeded nor saw me; and when he came to the spot where I stood, he did
+not turn out for me. He walked _through_ me! And when next I saw him he
+was a few feet beyond me, standing in mid-air over the moat and gazing
+up at the high towers like one revisiting old scenes. Again he floated
+toward me and poised on the wall four feet from where I stood.
+
+"What do you here to-night?" suddenly spoke, or seemed to speak, a voice
+that was like the echo of a silence.
+
+No answer came from my frozen tongue. Yet I would gladly have spoken,
+because somehow I felt a great sympathy for this boyish spirit.
+
+"It has been many earth-years," he said, "since I have walked these
+towers. And ah, cousin, it has been many miles that I have been called
+to-night to answer the summons of my race. And this fortress--what power
+has moved it overseas to this mad kingdom? Magic!"
+
+His eyes seemed suddenly to blaze through the shadows.
+
+"Cousin," he again spoke, "it is to you that I come from my far-off
+English tomb. It was your need called me. It is no pious deed brings you
+to this wall to-night. You are planning to pillage these towers
+unworthily, even as I did yesterday. Death was my portion, and broken
+hearts to the father I wronged and the girl I sought."
+
+"But it is the father wrongs the girl here," I heard myself saying.
+
+"He who rules these towers to-day is of stern mind but loving heart,"
+said the ghost. "Patience. By the Star that redeems the world, love
+should not be won _to-night_ by stealth, but by--love."
+
+He raised his hands toward the tower, his countenance radiant with an
+undying passion.
+
+"_She_ called to me and died," he said, "and her little ghost comes not
+to earth again for any winter moon or any summer wind."
+
+"But you--you come often?" my voice was saying.
+
+"No," said the ghost, "only on Christmas Eve. Yule is the tide of
+specters; for then the thoughts of the world are so beautiful that they
+enter our dreams and call us back."
+
+He turned to go, and a boyish, friendly smile rested a moment on his
+pale face.
+
+"Farewell, Sir Geoffray de Pierrepont," he called to me.
+
+Into the misty moonlight the ghost floated to that portion of the wall
+directly opposite the haunted room. From where I stood I could not see
+this chamber. After a moment I shook my numb senses to life. My first
+instinct was one of strong human curiosity, which impelled me to follow
+far enough to see the effect of the apparition on old Hobson, who must
+be watching at the window.
+
+I tiptoed a hundred feet along the wall and peered around a turret up to
+a room above, where Hobson's head could easily be seen in a patch of
+light. The ghost, at that moment, was walking just below, and the effect
+on the old man, appalling though it was, was ludicrous as well. He was
+leaning far out of the window, his mouth wide open; and the entire disk
+of his fat, hairless head was as pallid as the moon itself. The specter,
+who was now rounding the curve of the wall near the tower, swerved
+suddenly, and as suddenly seemed to totter headlong into the abyss
+below. As he dropped, a wild laugh broke through the frosty air. It
+wasn't from the ghost. It came from above--yes, it emanated from
+Thaddeus Hobson, who had, apparently, fallen back, leaving the window
+empty. Lights began breaking out all over the castle. In another moment
+I should be caught in my foolish disguise. With the courage of a coward,
+I turned and ran full tilt along the dizzy ledge and back to my window,
+where I lost no seconds scrambling up the rope that led to my room.
+
+With all possible haste I threw aside my sheet and helmet and started
+downstairs. I had just wrestled with a ghost; I would now have it out
+with the old man. The castle seemed ablaze below. I saw the flash of a
+light skirt in the picture gallery, and Anita, pale as the vision I had
+so lately beheld, came running toward me.
+
+"Father--saw it!" she panted. "He had some sort of sinking spell--he's
+better now--isn't it awful!" She clung to me, sobbing hysterically.
+
+Before I realized what I had done, I was holding her close in my arms.
+
+"Don't!" I cried. "It was a good ghost--he had a finer spirit than mine.
+He came to-night for you, dear, and for me. It was a foolish thing we
+planned."
+
+"Yes, but I wanted, I wanted to go!" she sobbed now crying frankly on my
+shoulder.
+
+"You _are_ going with me," I said fiercely, raising her head. "But not
+over any ghost-ridden breakneck wall. We're going this time through the
+big front door of this old castle, American fashion, and there'll be an
+automobile waiting outside and a parson at the other end of the line."
+
+We found Thaddeus Hobson alone, in the vast hall looking blankly at the
+fire.
+
+"Jeff," he said solemnly, "you sure brought me luck to-night if you can
+call it such being scared into a human icicle. Br-r-r! Shall I ever get
+the cold out of my backbone? But somehow, somehow that foggy feller
+outside sort of changed my look on things. It made me feel _kinder_
+toward living folks. Ain't it strange!"
+
+"Mr. Hobson," I said, "I think the ghost has made us _all_ see things
+differently. In a word, sir, I have a confession to make--if you don't
+mind."
+
+And I told him briefly of my accidental meeting with Anita in the
+donjon, of the practical joke we planned, of our sudden meeting with the
+_real_ ghost on the ramparts. Mr. Hobson listened, his face growing
+redder and redder. At the finish of my story he suddenly leaped to his
+feet and brought his fist down on the table with a bang.
+
+"Well, you little devils!" he said admiringly, and burst into loud
+laughter. "You're a spunky lad, Jeff. And there ain't any doubt that the
+de Pierreponts are as good stuff as you can get in the ancestry
+business. The Christmas supper is spread in the banquet hall. Come, de
+Pierrepont, will you sup with the old Earl?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The huge oaken banquet hall, lined with rich hangings, shrunk us to
+dwarfs by its vastness. Golden goblets were at each place. A butler,
+dressed in antique livery, threw a red cloak over Hobson's fat
+shoulders. It was a whim of the old man's.
+
+As we took our places, I noticed the table was set for four.
+
+"Whose is the extra place?" I asked.
+
+The old man at first made no reply. At last he turned to me earnestly
+and said: "Do you believe in ghosts?"
+
+"No," I replied. "Yet how else can I explain that vision I saw on the
+ramparts?"
+
+"Is the fourth place for him?" Anita almost whispered.
+
+The old man nodded mutely and raised a golden goblet.
+
+"To the Transplanted Ghost!" I said. It was an empty goblet that I
+touched to my lips.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST GHOST IN HARMONY
+
+BY NELSON LLOYD
+
+From _Scribner's Magazine_. Copyright, 1907, by Charles Scribner's Sons.
+By permission of the publishers and Nelson Lloyd.
+
+
+
+
+The Last Ghost in Harmony
+
+BY NELSON LLOYD
+
+
+From his perch on the blacksmith's anvil he spoke between the puffs of
+his post-prandial pipe. The fire in the forge was out and the day was
+going slowly, through the open door of the shop and the narrow windows,
+westward to the mountains. In the advancing shadow, on the pile of
+broken wheels on the work-bench, on keg and barrel, they sat puffing
+their post-prandial pipes and listening.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For a partner in business I want a truthful man, but for a companion
+give me one with imagination. To my mind imagination is the spice of
+life. There is nothing so uninteresting as a fact, for when you know it
+that is the end of it. When life becomes nothing but facts it won't be
+worth living; yet in a few years the race will have no imagination left.
+It is being educated out. Look at the children. When I was young the
+bogey man was as real to me as pa and nearly as much to be feared of,
+but just yesterday I was lectured for merely mentioning him to my neffy.
+So with ghosts. We was taught to believe in ghosts the same as we was in
+Adam or Noar. Nowadays nobody believes in them. It is unscientific, and
+if you are superstitious you are considered ignorant and laughed at.
+Ghosts are the product of the imagination, but if I imagine I see one he
+is as real to me as if he actually exists, isn't he? Therefore he does
+exist. That's logic. You fellows have become scientific and admits only
+what you see and feel, and don't depend on your imagination for
+anything. Such being the case, I myself admit that the sperrits no
+longer ha'nt the burying-ground or play around your houses. I admit it
+because the same condition exact existed in Harmony when I was there,
+and because of what was told me by Robert J. Dinkle about two years
+after he died, and because of what occurred between me and him and the
+Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail.
+
+Harmony was a highly intellectual town. About the last man there with
+any imagination or interesting ideas, excepting me, of course, was
+Robert J. Dinkle. Yet he had an awful reputation, and when he died it
+was generally stated privately that the last landmark of ignorance and
+superstition had been providentially removed. You know he had always
+been seeing things, but we set it down to his fondness for hard cider or
+his natural prepensity for joshing. With him gone there was no one left
+to report the doings of the sperrit-world. In fact, so widespread was
+the light of reason, as the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail called it, that the
+burying-ground became a popular place for moonlight strolls. Even I
+walked through it frequent on my way home from Miss Wheedle's, with
+whom I was keeping company, and it never occurred to me to go any faster
+there, or to look back over my shoulder, for I didn't believe in such
+foolishness. But to the most intellectual there comes times of doubt
+about things they know nothing of nor understand. Such a time come to
+me, when the wind was more mournfuller than usual in the trees, and the
+clouds scudded along overhead, casting peculiar shadders. My imagination
+got the best of my intellect. I hurried. I looked back over my shoulder.
+I shivered, kind of. Natural I see nothing in the burying-ground, yet at
+the end of town I was still uneasy-like, though half laughing at myself.
+It was so quiet; not a light burned anywhere, and the square seemed
+lonelier than the cemetery, and the store was so deserted, so ghostly in
+the moonlight, that I just couldn't keep from peering around at it.
+
+Then, from the empty porch, from the empty bench--empty, I swear, for I
+could see plain, so clear was the night--from absolute nothing come as
+pleasant a voice as ever I hear.
+
+"Hello!" it says.
+
+My blood turned icy-like and the chills waved up and down all through
+me. I couldn't move.
+
+The voice came again, so natural, so familiar, that I warmed some, and
+rubbed my eyes and stared.
+
+There, sitting on the bench, in his favorite place, was the late Robert
+J. Dinkle, gleaming in the moonlight, the front door showing right
+through him.
+
+"I must appear pretty distinct," he says in a proud-like way. "Can't you
+see me very plain?"
+
+See him plain! I should think so. Even the patches on his coat was
+visible, and only for the building behind him, he never looked more
+natural, and hearing him so pleasant, set me thinking. This, says I, is
+the sperrit of the late Robert J. Dinkle. In life he never did me any
+harm and in his present misty condition is likely to do less; if he is
+looking for trouble I'm not afraid of a bit of fog. Such being the case,
+I says, I shall address him as soon as I am able.
+
+But Robert got tired waiting, and spoke again in an anxious tone, a
+little louder, and ruther complaining, "Don't I show up good?" says he.
+
+"I never see you looking better," I answered, for my voice had came
+back, and the chills were quieter, and I was fairly ca'm and dared even
+to move a little nearer.
+
+A bright smile showed on his pale face. "It is a relief to be seen at
+last," he cried, most cheerful. "For years I've been trying to do a
+little ha'nting around here, and no one would notice me. I used to think
+mebbe my material was too delicate and gauzy, but I've conceded that,
+after all, the stuff is not to blame."
+
+He heaved a sigh so natural that I forgot all about his being a ghost.
+Indeed, taken all in all, I see that he had improved, was solemner, had
+a sweeter expression and wasn't likely to give in to his old prepensity
+for joshing.
+
+"Set down and we will talk it over," he went on most winning. "Really, I
+can't do any harm, but please be a little afraid and then I will show up
+distincter. I must be getting dim now."
+
+"You are," says I, for though I was on the porch edging nearer him most
+bold, I could hardly see him.
+
+Without any warning he gave an awful groan that brought the chills
+waving back most violent. I jumped and stared, and as I stared he stood
+out plainer and solider in the moonlight.
+
+"That's better," he said with a jolly chuckle; "now you do believe in
+me, don't you? Well, set there nervous-like, on the edge of the bench
+and don't be too ca'm-like, or I'll disappear."
+
+The ghost's orders were followed explicit. But with him setting there so
+natural and pleasant it was hard to be frightened and more than once I
+forgot. He, seeing me peering like my eyesight was bad, would give a
+groan that made my blood curdle. Up he would flare again, gleaming in
+the moonlight full and strong.
+
+"Harmony's getting too scientific, too intellectual," he said, speaking
+very melancholic. "What can't be explained by arithmetic or geography is
+put down as impossible. Even the preachers encourage such idees and talk
+about Adam and Eve being allegories. As a result, the graveyard has
+become the slowest place in town. You simply can't ha'nt anything
+around here. A man hears a groan in his room and he gets up and closes
+the shutters tighter, or throws a shoe at a rat, or swears at the wind
+in the chimney. A few sperrits were hanging around when I was first
+dead, but they were complaining very bad about the hard times. There
+used to be plenty of good society in the burying-ground, they said, but
+one by one they had to quit. All the old Berrys had left. Mr. Whoople
+retired when he was taken for a white mule. Mrs. Morris A. Klump, who
+once oppyrated 'round the deserted house beyond the mill had gave up in
+disgust just a week before my arrival. I tried to encourage the few
+remaining, explained how the sperritualists were working down the valley
+and would strike town any time, but they had lost all hope--kept fading
+away till only me was left. If things don't turn for the better soon I
+must go, too. It's awful discouraging. And lonely! Why folks ramble
+around the graves like even I wasn't there. Just last night my boy Ossy
+came strolling along with the lady he is keeping company with, and where
+do you s'pose they set down to rest, and look at the moon and talk about
+the silliest subjecks? Right on my headstone! I stood in front of them
+and did the ghostliest things till I was clean tired out and
+discouraged. They just would not pay the least attention."
+
+The poor old ghost almost broke down and cried. Never in life had I
+known him so much affected, and it went right to my heart to see him
+wiping his eyes with his handkercher and snuffling.
+
+"Mebbe you don't make enough noise when you ha'nt," says I most
+sympathetic.
+
+"I do all the regular acts," says he, a bit het up by my remark. "We
+always were kind of limited. I float around and groan, and talk foolish,
+and sometimes I pull off bedclothes or reveal the hiding-place of buried
+treasure. But what good does it do in a town so intellectual as
+Harmony?"
+
+I have seen many folks who were down on their luck, but never one who so
+appealed to me as the late Robert J. Dinkle. It was the way he spoke,
+the way he looked, his general patheticness, his very helplessness, and
+deservingness. In life I had known him well, and as he was now I liked
+him better. So I did want to do something for him. We sat studying for a
+long time, him smoking very violent, blowing clouds of fog outen his
+pipe, me thinking up some way to help him. And idees allus comes to them
+who sets and waits.
+
+"The trouble is partly as you say, Robert," I allowed after a bit, "and
+again partly because you can't make enough noise to awaken the
+slumbering imagination of intellectual Harmony. With a little natural
+help from me though, you might stir things up in this town."
+
+You never saw a gladder smile or a more gratefuller look than that poor
+sperrit gave me.
+
+"Ah," he says, "with your help I could do wonders. Now who'll we begin
+on?"
+
+"The Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail," says I, "has about all the imagination left
+in Harmony--of course excepting me."
+
+Robert's face fell visible. "I have tried him repeated and often," he
+says, kind of argumentative-like. "All the sign he made was to complain
+that his wife talked in her sleep."
+
+I wasn't going to argue--not me. I was all for action, and lost no time
+in starting. Robert J., he followed me like a dog, up through town to
+our house, where I went in, leaving him outside so as not to disturb
+mother. There I got me a hammer and nails with the heavy lead sinker
+offen my fishnet, and it wasn't long before the finest tick-tack you
+ever saw was working against the Spiegelnails' parlor window, with me in
+a lilac-bush operating the string that kept the weight a-swinging.
+Before the house was an open spot where the moon shone full and clear,
+where Robert J. walked up and down, about two feet off the ground,
+waving his arms slow-like and making the melancholiest groans. Now I
+have been to _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ frequent, but in all my life I never
+see such acting. Yet what was the consequences? Up went the window
+above, and the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail showed out plain in the moonlight.
+
+"Who is there?" he called very stern. You had otter see Robert then. It
+was like tonic to him. He rose up higher and began to beat his arms most
+violent and to gurgle tremendous. But the preacher never budged.
+
+"You boys otter be ashamed of yourselves," he says in a severe voice.
+
+"Louder, louder," I calls to Robert J., in answering which he began the
+most awful contortions.
+
+"You can hear me perfectly plain," says the dominie, now kind of
+sad-like. "It fills my old heart with sorrow to see that yous all have
+gone so far astray."
+
+Hearing that, so calm, so distinct, so defiant, made Robert J. stop
+short and stare. To remind him I gave the weight an extra thump, and it
+was so loud as to bring forth Mrs. Spiegelnail, her head showing plain
+as she peered out over the preacher's shoulder. The poor discouraged
+ghost took heart, striking his tragicest attitude, one which he told me
+afterwards was his pride and had been got out of a book. But what was
+the result?
+
+"Does you hear anyone in the bushes, dear?" inquires Mr. Spiegelnail,
+cocking his ears and listening.
+
+"It must be Ossy Dinkle and them bad friends of his," says she, in her
+sour tone.
+
+Poor Robert! Hearing that, he about gave up hope.
+
+"Don't I show up good?" he asks in an anxious voice.
+
+"I can see you distinct," says I, very sharp. "You never looked better."
+
+Down went the window--so sudden, so unexpected that I did not know what
+to make of it. Robert J. thought he did, and over me he came floating,
+most delighted.
+
+"I must have worked," he said, laughing like he'd die, a-doubling up and
+holding his sides to keep from splitting. "At last I have showed up
+distinct; at last I am of some use in the world. You don't realize what
+a pleasure it is to know that you are fulfilling your mission and living
+up to your reputation."
+
+Poor old ghost! He was for talking it all over then and there and
+settled down on a soft bunch of lilacs, and fell to smoking fog and
+chattering. It did me good to see him so happy and I was inclined to
+puff up a bit at my own success in the ha'nting line. But it was not for
+long. The rattle of keys warned us. The front door flew open and out
+bounded the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail, clearing the steps with a jump, and
+flying over the lawn. All thought of the late Robert J. Dinkle left me
+then, for I had only a few feet start of my pastor. You see I shouldn't
+a-hurried so only I sung bass in the choir and I doubt if I could have
+convinced him that I was working in the interests of Science and Truth.
+Fleeing was instinct. Gates didn't matter. They were took on the wing,
+and down the street I went with the preacher's hot breath on my neck.
+But I beat him. He tired after the first spurt and was soon left behind,
+so I could double back home to bed.
+
+Robert, he was for giving up entirely.
+
+"I simply won't work," says he to me, when I met him on the store porch
+that next night. "A hundred years ago such a bit of ha'nting would have
+caused the town to be abandoned; to-day it is attributed to natural
+causes."
+
+"Because," says I, "we left behind such evidences of material
+manifestations as strings and weights on the parlor window."
+
+"S'pose we work right in the house?" says he, brightening up. "You can
+hide in the closet and groan while I act."
+
+Now did you ever hear anything innocenter than that? Yet he meant it so
+well I did not even laugh.
+
+"I'm too fond of my pastor," I says, "to let him catch me in his closet.
+A far better spot for our work is the short cut he takes home from
+church after Wednesday evening meeting. We won't be so loud, but more
+dignified, melancholier, and tragic. You overacted last night, Robert,"
+I says. "Next time pace up and down like you were deep in thought and
+sigh gentle. Then if he should see you it would be nice to take his arm
+and walk home with him."
+
+I think I had the right idea of ha'nting, and had I been able to keep up
+Robert J. Dinkle's sperrits and to train him regular I could have
+aroused the slumbering imagination of Harmony, and brought life to the
+burying-ground. But he was too easy discouraged. He lacked perseverance.
+For if ever Mr. Spiegelnail was on the point of seeing things it was
+that night as he stepped out of the woods. He had walked slow and
+meditating till he come opposite where I was. Now I didn't howl or
+groan or say anything particular. What I did was to make a noise that
+wasn't animal, neither was it human, nor was it regulation ghostly. As I
+had stated to the late Robert J. Dinkle, what was needed for ha'nting
+was something new and original. And it certainly ketched Mr.
+Spiegelnail's attention. I see him stop. I see his lantern shake. It
+appeared like he was going to dive into the bushes for me, but he
+changed his mind. On he went, quicker, kind as if he wasn't afraid, yet
+was, on to the open, where the moon brought out Robert beautiful as he
+paced slowly up and down, his head bowed like he was studying. Still the
+preacher never saw him, stepped right through him, in fact. I give the
+dreadful sound again. That stopped him. He turned, raised the lantern
+before him, put his hand to his ear, and seemed to be looking intense
+and listening. Hardly ten feet away stood Robert, all a-trembling with
+excitement, but the light that showed through him was as steady as a
+rock, as the dominie watched and listened, so quiet and ca'm. He lowered
+the lantern, rubbed his hands across his eyes, stepped forward and
+looked again. The ghost was perfect. As I have stated, he was excited
+and his sigh shook a little, but he was full of dignity and sadity. He
+shouldn't have lost heart so soon. I was sure then that he almost showed
+up plain to the preacher and he would have grown on Mr. Spiegelnail had
+he kept on ha'nting him instead of giving in because that one night the
+pastor walked on to the house fairly cool. He did walk quicker, I know,
+and he did peer over his shoulder twicet and I did hear the kitchen door
+bang in a relieved way. But when we consider the stuff that ghosts are
+made of we hadn't otter expect them to be heroes. They are too foggy and
+gauzy to have much perseverance--judging at least from Robert J.
+
+"I simply can't work any more," says he, when I came up to him, as he
+sat there in the path, his elbows on his knees, his head on his hands,
+his eyes studying the ground most mournful.
+
+"But Robert----" I began, thinking to cheer him up.
+
+He didn't hear; he wouldn't listen--just faded away.
+
+Had he only held out there is no telling what he might have done in his
+line. Often, since then, have I thought of him and figgered on his
+tremendous possibilities. That he had possibilities I am sure. Had I
+only realized it that last night we went out ha'nting, he never would
+have got away from me. But the realization came too late. It came in
+church the very next Sunday, with the usual announcements after the long
+prayer, as Mr. Spiegelnail was leaning over the pulpit eying the
+congregation through big smoked glasses.
+
+Says he in a voice that was full of sadness: "I regret to announce that
+for the first time in twenty years union services will be held in this
+town next Sabbath." Setting in the choir, reading my music marks, I
+heard the preacher's words and started, for I saw at once that something
+unusual was happening, or had happened, or was about to happen.
+"Unfortunately," said Mr. Spiegelnail, continuing, "I shall have to turn
+my pulpit over to Brother Spiker of the Baptist Church, for my failing
+eyesight renders it necessary that I go at once to Philadelphia, to
+consult an oculist. Some of my dear brethren may think this an unusual
+step, but I should not desert them without cause. They may think,
+perhaps, that I am making much ado about nothing and could be treated
+just as well in Harrisburg. To such let me explain that I am suffering
+from astigmatism. It is not so much that I cannot see, but that I sees
+things which I know are not there--a defect in sight which I feel needs
+the most expert attention. Sunday-school at half-past nine; divine
+service at eleven. I take for my text 'And the old men shall see
+visions.'"
+
+How I did wish the late Robert J. Dinkle could have been in church that
+morning. It would have so gladdened his heart to hear that he had partly
+worked, for if he worked partly, then surely, in time, he would have
+worked complete. For me, I was just wild with excitement, and was so
+busy thinking of him and how glad he would be, that I didn't hear the
+sermon at all, and in planning new ways of ha'nting I forgot to sing in
+the last anthem. You see, I figgered lively times ahead for Harmony--a
+general return to the good old times when folks had imagination and had
+something more in their heads than facts. I had only to get Robert
+again, and with him working it would not be long till all the old Berrys
+and Mrs. Klump showed up distinct and plain. But I wasn't well posted in
+the weak characters of shades, for I thought, of course, I could find my
+sperrit friend easy when night came. Yet I didn't. I set on the store
+porch shivering till the moon was high up over the ridge. He just
+wouldn't come. I called for him soft-like and got no answer. Down to the
+burying-ground I went and set on his headstone. It was the quietest
+place you ever see. The clouds was scudding overhead; the wind was
+sighing among the leaves; and through the trees the moon was gleaming so
+clear and distinct you could almost read the monnyments. It was just a
+night when things should have been lively there--a perfect night for
+ha'nting. I called for Robert. I listened. He never answered. I heard
+only a bull-frog a-bellering in the pond, a whippoor-will whistling in
+the grove, and a dog howling at the moon.
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST OF MISER BRIMPSON
+
+BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
+
+From _Tales of the Tenements_, by Eden Phillpotts. Published in America
+by John Lane Company, and in England by John Murray. By permission of
+the publishers and Eden Phillpotts.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost of Miser Brimpson
+
+BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
+
+
+I
+
+Penniless and proud he was; and that pair don't draw a man to pleasant
+places when they be in double harness. There's only one thing can stop
+'em if they take the bit between their teeth, and that's a woman. So
+there, you might say, lies the text of the tale of Jonathan Drake, of
+Dunnabridge Farm, a tenement in the Forest of Dartymoor. 'Twas Naboth's
+vineyard to Duchy, and the greedy thing would have given a very fair
+price for it, without a doubt; but the Drake folk held their land, and
+wouldn't part with it, and boasted a freehold of fifty acres in the very
+midst of the Forest. They did well, too, and moved with the times, and
+kept their heads high for more generations than I can call home; and
+then they comed to what all families, whether gentle or simple, always
+come to soon or late. And that's a black sheep for bell-wether. Bad uns
+there'll be in every generation of a race; but the trouble begins when a
+bad un chances to be up top; and if the head of the family is a
+drunkard, or a spendthrift, or built on too free and flowing a pattern
+for this work-a-day shop, then the next generation may look out for
+squalls, as the sailor-men say.
+
+'Twas Jonathan's grandfather that did the harm at Dunnabridge. He had
+sport in his blood, on his mother's side, and 'twas horses ran him into
+trouble. He backed 'em, and was ruined; and then his son bred 'em, and
+didn't do very much better. So, when the pair of 'em dropped out of the
+hunt, and died with their backs to the wall, one after t'other, it
+looked as if the game was up for them to follow. By good chance,
+however, Tom Drake had but one child--a boy--the Jonathan as I be
+telling about; and when his father and grandfather passed away, within a
+year of each other, Dunnabridge was left to Tom's widow and her son, him
+then being twenty-two. She was for selling Dunnabridge and getting away
+from Dartymoor, because the place had used her bad, and she hated the
+sight of it; but Jonathan, a proud chap even then, got the lawyers to
+look into the matter, and they told him that 'twasn't vital for
+Dunnabridge to be sold, though it might ease his pocket, and smooth his
+future to do so, 'specially as Duchy wanted the place rather bad, and
+had offered the value of it. And Jonathan's mother was on the side of
+Duchy, too, and went on her knees to the man to sell; but he wouldn't.
+He had a bee in his bonnet sometimes, and he said that all the Drakes
+would rise out of their graves to Widecombe churchyard, and haunt his
+rising up and going down if he were to do such a thing, just to suit
+his own convenience, and be rid of the place. So he made a plan with the
+creditors. It figured out that his father and grandfather had owed near
+a thousand pound between them; and Jonathan actually set himself to pay
+it off to the last penny. 'Twas the labor of years; but by the time he
+was thirty-three he done it--at what cost of scrimping and screwing,
+only his mother might have told. She never did tell, however, for she
+died two year before the last item was paid. Some went as far as to
+declare that 'twas her son's miserly ways hurried her into her grave;
+and, for all I know, they may have done so, for 'tis certain, in her
+husband's life, she had a better time. Tom was the large-hearted, juicy,
+easy sort, as liked meat on the table, and plenty to wash it down; and
+he loved Mercy Jane Drake very well; and, when he died, the only thought
+that troubled him was leaving her; and the last thing he advised his son
+was to sell Dunnabridge, and take his mother off the Moor down to the
+"in country" where she'd come from.
+
+But Jonathan was made of different stuff, and 'twas rumored by old
+people that had known the family for several generations that he favored
+an ancient forefather by name of Brimpson Drake. This bygone man was a
+miser and the richest of the race. He'd lived in the days when we were
+at war with France and America, and when Princetown sprang up, and a
+gert war-prison was built there to cage all the chaps we got on our
+hands through winning such a lot o' sea battles. And Miser Brimpson was
+said to have made thousands by helping rich fellows to escape from the
+prison. Truth and falsehood mixed made up his story as 'twas handed
+down. But one thing appeared to be fairly true about it; which was, that
+when the miser died, and Dunnabridge went to his cousin, the horseracer,
+not a penny of his fortune ever came into the sight of living men. So
+some said 'twas all nonsense, and he never had no money at all, but only
+pretended to it; and others again, declared that he knew too well who'd
+follow in his shoes at Dunnabridge, and hid his money accordingly, so
+that no Drake should have it. For he hated his heirs as only a miser can
+hate 'em.
+
+So things stood when Mercy Jane died and Jonathan was left alone. He
+paid all his relations' debts, and he had his trouble and the honor of
+being honorable for his pains. Everybody respected him something
+wonderful; but, all the same, a few of his mother's friends always did
+say that 'twas a pity he put his dead father's good name afore his
+living mother's life. However, we'm not built in the pattern of our
+fellow-creatures, and 'tis only fools that waste time blaming a man for
+being himself.
+
+Jonathan went his stern way; and then, in the lonely days after his
+parent was taken, when he lived at Dunnabridge, with nought but two
+hinds and a brace of sheep-dogs, 'twas suddenly borne in upon his narrow
+sight that there might be other women still in the world, though his
+mother had gone out of it. And he also discovered, doubtless, that a
+home without a woman therein be merely the cruel mockery of what a home
+should be.
+
+A good few folk watched Jonathan to see what he'd do about it, and no
+doubt a maiden here and there was interested too; because, though a
+terrible poor man, he wasn't bad to look at, though rather hard about
+the edge of the jaw, and rather short and stern in his manners to human
+creatures and beasts alike.
+
+And then beginned his funny courting--if you can call it courting, where
+a poor man allows hisself the luxury of pride at the wrong time, and
+makes a show of hisself in consequence. At least that's my view; but you
+must know that a good few, quite as wise as me, took t'other side, and
+held that Jonathan covered his name with glory when he changed his mind
+about Hyssop Burges. That was her bitter name, but a pleasanter girl
+never walked on shoe-leather. She was Farmer Stonewer's niece to White
+Works, and he took her in for a charity, and always said that 'twas the
+best day's work as ever he had done. A straight, hardworking, cheerful
+sort of a girl, with nothing to name about her very special save a fine
+shape and a proud way of holding her head in the air and looking her
+fellow creatures in the eyes. Proud she was for certain, and terrible
+partickler as to her friends; but there happened to be that about
+Jonathan that made flint to her steel. He knowed she was penniless, or
+he'd not have looked at her twice; and when, after a short, fierce sort
+of courting, she took him, everybody felt pleased about it but Farmer
+Stonewer, who couldn't abide the thought of losing Hyssop, though his
+wife had warned him any time this four year that 'twas bound to happen.
+
+Farmer and the girl were sitting waiting for Jonathan one night; and she
+was a bit nervous, and he was trying for to calm her.
+
+"Jonathan must be told," she says. "It can't go on no longer."
+
+"Then tell him," says her uncle. "Good powers!" he says; "to see you,
+one would think the news was the worst as could ever fall between a pair
+o' poor lovers, instead of the best."
+
+"I know him a lot better than you," she tells Farmer; "and I know how
+plaguey difficult he can be where money's the matter. He very near
+throwed me over when, in a weak moment, I axed him to let me buy my own
+tokening-ring. Red as a turkey's wattles did he flame, and said I'd
+insulted him; and now, when he hears the secret, I can't for the life of
+me guess how he'll take it."
+
+"'Twas a pity you didn't tell him when he offered for you," declared
+Hyssop's aunt. "Proud he is as a silly peacock, and terrible frightened
+of seeming to look after money, or even casting his eye where it bides;
+but he came to you without any notion of the windfall, and he loved you
+for yourself, like an honest man; and you loved him the same way; and
+right well you know that if your old cousin had left you five thousand
+pound instead of five hundred, Jonathan Drake was the right chap for
+you. He can't blame himself, for not a soul on Dartymoor but us three
+has ever heard tell about the money."
+
+"But he'll blame me for having money at all," answered the girl. "He
+said a dozen times afore he offered for me, that he'd never look at a
+woman if she'd got more cash than what he had himself. That's why I
+couldn't bring myself to confess to it--and lose him. And, after we was
+tokened, it got to be harder still."
+
+"Why not bide till you'm married, then?" asked Mrs. Stonewer. "Since it
+have gone so long, let it go longer, and surprise him with the news on
+the wedding-night--eh, James?"
+
+"No," answered Farmer. "'Enough is as good as a feast.' 'Tis squandering
+blessings to do that at such a time. Keep the news till some rainy day,
+when he's wondering how to get round a tight corner. That's the moment
+to tell him; and that's the moment he's least likely to make a face at
+the news."
+
+But Hyssop wouldn't put it off no more; she said as she'd not have any
+further peace till the murder was out. And that very night, sure enough
+when Jonathan comed over from Dunnabridge for his bit of love-making,
+and the young couple had got the farm parlor to themselves, she plumped
+it out, finding him in a very kindly mood. They never cuddled much, for
+he wasn't built that way; but he'd not disdain to sit beside her and
+put his arm around her now and again, when she picked up his hand and
+drew it round. Then, off and on, she'd rub her cheek against his
+mutton-chop whiskers, till he had to kiss her in common politeness.
+
+Well, Hyssop got it out--Lord alone knows how, as she said afterwards.
+She got it out, and told him that an old, aged cousin had died, and left
+her a nice little skuat[1] of money; and how she'd never touched a penny
+but let it goody in the bank; and how she prayed and hoped 'twould help
+'em to Dunnabridge; and how, of course, he must have the handling of it,
+being a man, and so cruel clever in such things. She went on and on,
+pretty well frightened to stop and hear him. But, after she'd said it
+over about a dozen times, her breath failed her, and she shut her mouth,
+and tried to smile, and looked up terrible anxious and pleading at
+Jonathan.
+
+His hard gray eyes bored into her like a brace of gimlets, and in return
+for all her talk he axed but one question.
+
+"How long have you had this here money?" he said.
+
+She told the truth, faltering and shaking under his glare.
+
+"Four years and upwards, Jonathan."
+
+"That's years and years afore I axed you to marry me?"
+
+"Yes, Jonathan."
+
+"And you remember what I said about never marrying anybody as had more
+than what I have?"
+
+"Yes, Jonathan."
+
+"And you full know how many a time I told you that, after I paid off all
+my father's debts, I had nought left, and 'twould be years afore I could
+build up anything to call money?"
+
+"Yes, Jonathan."
+
+"Very well, then!" he cried out, and his brow crooked down and his fists
+clenched. "Very well, you've deceived me deliberate, and if you'd do
+that in one thing, you would in another. I'm going out of this house
+this instant moment, and you can tell your relations why 'tis. I'm
+terrible sorry, Hyssop Burges, for no man will ever love you better than
+what I did; and so you'd have lived to find out when all this here
+courting tomfoolery was over, and you'd come to be my wife. But now I'll
+have none of you, for you've played with me. And so--so I'll bid you
+good-bye!"
+
+He went straight out without more speech; and she tottered, weeping, to
+her uncle and aunt. They couldn't believe their senses; and Jimmy
+Stonewer declared thereon that any man who could make himself such a
+masterpiece of a fool as Jonathan had done that night, was better out of
+the marriage state than in it. He told Hyssop as she'd had a marvelous
+escape from a prize zany; and his wife said the same. But the girl
+couldn't see it like that. She knowed Jonathan weren't a prize zany,
+and his raging pride didn't anger her, for she admired it something
+wonderful, and it only made her feel her loss all the crueller to see
+what a terrible rare, haughty sort of a chap he was. There were a lot of
+other men would have had her, and twice as many again, if they'd known
+about the money; but they all seemed as tame as robins beside her hawk
+of a Jonathan. She had plenty of devil in her, too, when it came to the
+fighting pitch; and now, while he merely said that the match was broken
+off through a difference of opinion, and gave no reason for it, she set
+to work with all her might to get him back again, and used her
+love-sharpened wits so well as she knew how, to best him into matrimony.
+
+
+II
+
+In truth she made poor speed. Jonathan was always civil afterwards; but
+you might as soon have tried to thaw an iceberg with a box of matches as
+to get him round again by gentleness and affection. He was the sort that
+can't be won with kindness. He felt he'd treated the world better than
+the world had treated him, and the thought shriveled his heart a bit.
+Always shy and suspicious, you might say; and yet, underneath it, the
+most honorable and upright and high-minded man you could wish to meet.
+Hyssop loved him like her life, and she got a bit poorly in health after
+their sad quarrel. Then chance willed it that, going down from
+Princetown to Plymouth by train--to see a chemist, and get something to
+make her eat--who should be in the selfsame carriage but Mr. Drake and
+his hind, Thomas Parsons.
+
+There was others there, too; and it fell out that an old fellow as
+knowed Jonathan's grandfather before him, brought up the yarn about
+Miser Brimpson, and asked young Drake if he took any stock in it.
+
+Of course the man pooh-poohed such foolery, and told the old chap not to
+talk nonsense like that in the ear of the nineteenth century; but when
+Jonathan and Parsons had got out of the train--which they did do at
+Yelverton station--Hyssop, as knowed the old man, axed him to tell more
+about the miser; and he explained, so well as he knew how, that Brimpson
+Drake had made untold thousands out of the French and American
+prisoners, and that, without doubt, 'twas all hidden even to this day at
+Dunnabridge.
+
+"Of course Jonathan's too clever to believe such a tale--like his father
+before him; but his grandfather believed it, and the old blid spent half
+his time poking about the farm. Only, unfortunately, he didn't have no
+luck. But 'tis there for sure; and if Jonathan had enough faith he'd
+come by it--not by digging and wasting time and labor, but by doing what
+is right and proper when you'm dealing with such matters."
+
+"And what might that be?" axed Miss Burges.
+
+Just then, however, the train for Plymouth ran up, and the old man told
+her that he'd explain some other time.
+
+"This generation laughs at such things," he said; "but they laugh best
+who laugh last, and, for all we can say to the contrary, 'tis nought but
+his conceit and pride be standing between that stiff-necked youth and
+the wealth of a bank."
+
+Hyssop, she thought a lot upon this; but she hadn't no need to go to the
+old chap again, as she meant to do, for when she got home, her
+uncle--Farmer Stonewer--knowed all about the matter, and told her how
+'twas a very rooted opinion among the last generation that a miser's
+spirit never could leave its hidden hoard till the stuff was brought to
+light, and in human hands once more.
+
+"Millions of good money has been found in that manner, if all we hear is
+true," declared Farmer Jimmy; "and if one miser has been known to walk,
+which nobody can deny, then why shouldn't another? Them as believe in
+such dark things--and I don't say I do, and I don't say I don't--them as
+know of such mysteries happening in their own recollection, or in the
+memory of their friends, would doubtless say that Miser Brimpson still
+creeps around his gold now and again; and if that money be within the
+four corners of Dunnabridge Farm, and if Jonathan happed to be on the
+lookout on the rightful night and at the rightful moment, 'tis almost
+any odds but he might see his forbear sitting over his money-bags like a
+hen on a clutch of eggs, and so recover the hoard."
+
+"But faith's needed for such a deed," Mrs. Stonewer told her niece; "and
+that pig-headed creature haven't no faith. Too proud, he is, to believe
+in anything he don't understand. 'Twas even so with Lucifer afore him.
+If you told him--Jonathan--this news, he'd rather let the money go than
+set off ghost-hunting in cold blood. Yet there it is: and a
+humbler-minded fashion of chap, with the Lord on his side, and a
+trustful heart in his bosom, might very like recover all them tubs of
+cash the miser come by."
+
+"And then he'd have thousands to my poor tens," said Hyssop. "Not that
+he'd ever come back to me now, I reckon."
+
+But, all the same, she knowed by the look in Jonathan's eye when they
+met, that he loved her still, and that his silly, proud heart was
+hungering after her yet, though he'd rather have been drawn under a
+harrow than show a spark of what was burning there.
+
+And so, upon this nonsense about a buried treasure she set to work again
+to use her brains, and see if there might be any road out of the trouble
+by way of Miser Brimpson's ghost.
+
+What she did, none but them as helped her ever knew, until the story
+comed round to me; but 'twas the cleverest thing that ever I heard of a
+maiden doing, and it worked a wonder. In fact, I can't see but a single
+objection to the plot, though that was a serious thing for the girl. It
+lay in the fact that there had to be a secret between Hyssop and her
+husband; and she kept it close as the grave until the grave itself
+closed over him. Yet 'twas an innocent secret, too; and, when all's
+said, 'tisn't a wedded pair in five hundred as haven't each their one
+little cupboard fast locked, with the key throwed away.
+
+Six months passed by, and Jonathan worked as only he knowed how to work,
+and tried to forget his sad disappointment by dint of toil. Early and
+late he labored, and got permission to reclaim a bit of moor for a
+"newtake," and so added a very fair three acres to his farm. He noticed
+about this time that his hind, Parsons, did oft drag up the subject of
+Miser Brimpson Drake; and first Jonathan laughed, and then he was
+angered, and bade Thomas hold his peace. But, though a very obedient and
+humble sort of man, Parsons would hark back to the subject, and tell how
+his father had known a man who was own brother to a miser; and how, when
+the miser died, his own brother had seen him clear as truth in the
+chimley-corner of his room three nights after they'd buried him; and how
+they made search, and found, not three feet from where the ghost had
+stood, a place in the wall with seventeen golden sovereigns hid in it,
+and a white witch's cure for glanders. Thomas Parsons swore on the Book
+to this; and he said, as a certain fact, that New Year's Night was the
+time most misers walked; and he advised Jonathan not to be dead to his
+own interests.
+
+"At least, as a thinking man, that believes in religion and the powers
+of the air, in Bible word, you might give it a chance," said Thomas; and
+then Jonathan told him to shut his mouth, and not shame Dunnabridge by
+talking such childish nonsense.
+
+The next autumn Jonathan went up beyond Exeter to buy some of they
+black-faced, horned Scotch sheep, and he wanted for Parsons to go with
+him; but his man falled ill the night afore, and so young Hacker went
+instead.
+
+Drake reckoned then that Thomas Parsons would have to leave, for
+Dunnabridge weren't a place for sick folk; and he'd made up his mind
+after he came back to turn the old chap off; but Thomas was better when
+the master got home, so the question of sacking him was let be, and
+Jonathan contented himself by telling Tom that, if he falled ill again,
+'twould be the last time. And Parsons said that was as it should be; but
+he hoped that at his age--merely sixty-five or thereabout--he wouldn't
+be troubled with his breathing parts again for half a score o' years at
+least. He added that he'd done his work as usual while the master was
+away; but he didn't mention that Hyssop Burges had made so bold as to
+call at Dunnabridge with a pony and cart, and that she'd spent a tidy
+long time there, and gone all over the house and farmyard, among other
+places, afore she drove off again.
+
+And the next chapter of the story was told by Jonathan himself to his
+two men on the first day of the following year.
+
+There was but little light of morning just then, and the three of 'em
+were putting down some bread and bacon and a quart of tea by candlelight
+in the Dunnabridge kitchen, when Thomas saw that his master weren't
+eating nothing to name. Instead, he went out to the barrel and drawed
+himself a pint of ale, and got along by the peat fire with it, and stuck
+his boots so nigh the scads as he dared without burning 'em.
+
+"What's amiss?" said Thomas. "Don't say you'm sick, master. And if you
+be, I lay no liquor smaller than brandy will fetch you round."
+
+"I ban't sick," answered Jonathan shortly.
+
+He seemed in doubt whether to go on. Then he resolved to do so.
+
+"There was a man in the yard last night," he said; "and, if I thought as
+either of you chaps knowed anything about it, I'd turn you off this
+instant, afore you'd got the bacon out of your throats."
+
+"A man? Never!" cried Parsons.
+
+"How was it the dog didn't bark?" asked Hacker.
+
+"How the devil do I know why he didn't bark?" answered Jonathan, dark as
+night, and staring in the fire. One side of his face was red with the
+flames, and t'other side blue as steel along of the daylight just
+beginning to filter in at the window.
+
+"All I can say is this," he added. "I turned in at half-after ten, just
+after that brace of old fools to Brownberry went off to see the New Year
+in. I slept till midnight; then something woke me with a start. What
+'twas, I can't tell, but some loud sound near at hand, no doubt. I was
+going off again when I heard more row--a steady sound repeated over and
+over. And first I thought 'twas owls; and then I heard 'twas not. You
+might have said 'twas somebody thumping on a barrel; but, at any rate, I
+woke up, and sat up, and found the noise was in the yard.
+
+"I looked out of my chamber window then, and the moon was bright as day,
+and the stars sparkling likewise; and there, down by 'the Judge's Table'
+where the thorn-tree grows, I see a man standing by the old barrel as
+plain as I see you chaps now."
+
+"The Judge's Table" be a wonnerful curiosity at Dunnabridge, and if you
+go there you'll do well to ax to see it. 'Tis a gert slab of moorstone
+said to have come from Crokern Torr, where the tinners held theer
+parliament in the ancient times. Now it bides over a water-trough with a
+white-thorn tree rising up above.
+
+Jonathan took his breath when he'd got that far, and fetched his pipe
+out of his pocket and lighted it. Then he drank off half the beer, and
+spat in the fire, and went on.
+
+"A man so tall as me, if not taller. He'd got one of them old white
+beaver hats on his head, and he wore a flowing white beard, so long as
+my plough-horse's tail, and he walked up and down, up and down over the
+stones, like a sailor walks up and down on the deck of a ship. I shouted
+to the chap, but he didn't take no more notice than the moon. Up and
+down he went; and then I told him, if he wasn't off inside two minutes,
+I'd get my fowling-piece and let fly. Still he paid no heed; and I don't
+mind saying to you men that, for half a second, I felt creepy-crawly and
+goose-flesh down the back. But 'twas only the cold, I reckon, for my
+window was wide open, and I'd been leaning out of it for a good while
+into ten degrees of frost.
+
+"After that, I got angry, and went down house and hitched the gun off
+the hooks over the mantelpiece, and ran out, just as I was, in nought
+but my boots and my nightshirt. The hour was so still as the grave at
+first, and the moon shone on the river far below and lit up the eaves
+and windows; and then, through the silence, I heard Widecombe bells
+ringing in the New Year. But the old night-bird in his top hat was gone.
+Not a hair of his beard did he leave behind. I looked about, and then up
+came the dog, barking like fury, not knowing who I was, dressed that
+way, till he heard my voice. And that's the tale; and who be that
+curious old rascal I'd much like to know."
+
+They didn't answer at first, and the daylight gained on 'em. Then old
+Parsons spoke up, and wagged his head and swore that 'twas no man his
+master had seen, but a creature from the other world.
+
+"I'll lay my life," he said, "'twas the spectrum of Miser Brimpson as
+you saw walking; and I'll take oath by the New Year that 'twas his way
+to show where his stuff be buried. For God's sake," he says, "if you
+don't want to get into trouble with unknown creatures, go out and pull
+up the cobblestones, and see if there's anything underneath 'em."
+
+But Jonathan made as though the whole thing was nonsense, and wouldn't
+let neither Thomas nor Hacker move a pebble. Only, the next day, he went
+off to a very old chap called Samuel Windeatt, whose father had been a
+boy at the time of the War Prison, and was said to have seen and known
+Miser Brimpson in the flesh. And the old man declared that, in his
+childish days, he'd heard of the miser, and that he certainly wore a
+beaver hat and had a white beard a yard long. So Jonathan came home
+again more thoughtful than afore, and finally--though he declared that
+he was ashamed to do it--he let Tom overpersuade him; and two days after
+the three men set to work where Drake had seen the spectrum.
+
+They dug and they dug, this way and that; and Jonathan found nought, and
+Parsons found nought; but Hacker came upon a box, and they dragged it
+out of the earth, and underneath of it was another box like the first.
+They was a pair of old rotten wood chests, by the look of them, made of
+boards nailed together with rusty nails. No locks or keys they had; but
+that was no matter, for they fell abroad at a touch, and inside of them
+was a lot of plate--candlesticks, snuffers, tea-kettles, table silver,
+and the like.
+
+"Thunder!" cried out Jonathan. "'Tis all pewter trash, not worth a
+five-pound note! Us'll dig again."
+
+And dig they did for a week, till the farmyard in that place was turned
+over like a trenched kitchen-garden. But not another teaspoon did they
+find.
+
+Meantime, however, somebody as understood such things explained to young
+Drake that the stuff unearthed was not pewter, nor yet Britannia metal
+neither, but old Sheffield plate, and worth plenty of good money at
+that.
+
+Jonathan felt too mazed with the event to do anything about it for a
+month; then he went to Plymouth, and took a few pieces of the find in
+his bag. And the man what he showed 'em to was so terrible interested
+that nothing would do but he must come up to Dunnabridge and see the
+lot. He offered two hundred and fifty pound for the things on the nail;
+so Jonathan saw very clear that they must be worth a good bit more. They
+haggled for a week, and finally the owner went up to Exeter and got
+another chap to name a price. In the long run, the dealers halved the
+things, and Jonathan comed out with a clear three hundred and fifty-four
+pound.
+
+
+III
+
+He wasn't very pleased to talk about his luck, and inquisitive people
+got but little out of him on the subject; but, of course, Parsons and
+Hacker spoke free and often on the subject, for 'twas the greatest
+adventure as had ever come to them in their lives; and, from telling the
+tale over and over old Parsons got to talk about it as if he'd seen the
+ghost himself.
+
+Then, after he'd chewed over the matter for a space of three or four
+months, and spring was come again, Jonathan Drake went off one night to
+White Works, just the same as he used to do when he was courting Hyssop
+Burges; and there was the little party as usual, with Mrs. Stonewer
+knitting, and Farmer reading yesterday's newspaper, and Hyssop sewing in
+her place by her aunt.
+
+"Well!" says Farmer Jimmy, "wonders never cease! And to see you again
+here be almost so big a wonder as that they tell about of the old
+miser's tea-things. I'm sure we all give you joy, Jonathan; and I
+needn't tell you as we was cruel pleased to hear about it."
+
+The young man thanked them very civilly, and said how 'twas a coorious
+come-along-of-it, and he didn't hardly know what to think of the matter
+even to that day.
+
+"I should reckon 'twas a bit of nonsense what I'd dreamed," he said;
+"but money's money, as who should know better than me? And, by the same
+token, I want a few words with Hyssop if she'm willing to give me ten
+minutes of her time."
+
+"You'm welcome, Mr. Drake," she said.
+
+He started at the surname; but she got up, and they went off just in
+the usual way to the parlor; and when they was there, she sat down in
+her old corner of the horsehair sofa and looked at him. But he didn't
+sit down--not at first. He walked about fierce and talked fierce.
+
+"I'll ax one question afore I go on, and, if the answer's what I fear,
+I'll trouble you no more," he said. "In a word, be you tokened again? I
+suppose you be, for you're not the sort to go begging. Say it quick if
+'tis so, and I'll be off and trouble you no further."
+
+"No, Mr. Drake. I'm free as the day you--you throwed me over," she
+answered, in a very quiet little voice.
+
+He snorted at that, but was too mighty thankful to quarrel with the
+words. She could see he began to grow terrible excited now; and he
+walked up and down, taking shorter and shorter strides this way and
+that, like a hungry caged tiger as knows his bit of horse-flesh be on
+the way.
+
+At last he bursts out again.
+
+"There was a lot of lies told about that old plate us found at
+Dunnabridge. But the truth of the matter is, that I sold it for three
+hundred and fifty-four pounds."
+
+"So Tom Parsons told uncle. A wonderful thing; and we sat up all night
+talking about it, Mr. Drake."
+
+"For God's sake call me 'Jonathan'!" he cried out; "and tell me--tell me
+what the figure of your legacy was. You must tell me--you can't withhold
+it. 'Tis life or death--to me."
+
+She'd never seen him so excited, but very well knowed what was in his
+mind.
+
+"If you must know, you must," she answered. "I thought I told you
+when--when----"
+
+"No, you didn't. I wouldn't bide to hear. Whatever 'twas, you'd got more
+than me, and that was all I cared about; but now, if by good fortune
+'tis less than mine, you understand----"
+
+"Of course 'tis less. A hundred and eighty pound and the interest--a
+little over two hundred in all--is what I've gotten."
+
+"Thank God!" he said.
+
+Then he axed her if she could marry him still, or if she knew too much
+about his ways and his ideas to care about doing so.
+
+And she took him again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+You see, Hyssop Burges was my mother, and when father died I had the
+rights of the story from her. By that time the old people at White Works
+and Tom Parsons was all gone home, and the secret remained safe enough
+with Hyssop herself.
+
+The great difficulty was to put half her money and more, slap into
+Jonathan's hands without his knowing how it got there; and, even when
+the game with the ghost was hit upon, 'twas hard to know how to do it
+clever. Hyssop wanted to hide golden sovereigns at Dunnabridge; but her
+uncle, with wonnerful wit, pointed out that they'd all be dated; and to
+get three hundred sovereigns and more a hundred years old could never
+have been managed. Then old Thomas, who was in the secret, of course,
+and played the part of Miser Brimpson, and got five pounds for doing it
+so clever, and another five after from his master, when the stuff was
+found--he thought upon trinkums and jewels; and finally Mrs. Stonewer,
+as had a friend in the business, said that Sheffield plate would do the
+trick. And she was right. The plate was bought for three hundred and
+eighty pound, and kept close at White Works till 'twas known that
+Jonathan meant to go away and bide away some days. Then my mother drove
+across with it; and Thomas made the cases wi' old rotten boards, and
+they drove a slant hole under the cobbles, and got all vitty again long
+afore young Drake came back home.
+
+"Me and Jonathan was wedded in the fall of that year," said my mother to
+me when she told the tale. "And, come the next New Year's Night, he was
+at our chamber window as the clock struck twelve, and bided there
+looking out into the yard for an hour, keen as the hawk that he was. He
+thought I must be asleep; but well I knowed he was seeking for an old
+man in a beaver hat wi' a long white beard, and well I knowed he'd never
+see him again. Of course your father took good care not to tell me the
+next morning that he'd been on the lookout for the ghost."
+
+And my mother, in her own last days, oft dwelt on that trick; and
+sometimes she'd say, as the time for meeting father got nearer and
+nearer, "I wonder if 'twill make any difference in heaven, where no
+secrets be hid?" And, knowing father so well as I had, I felt very sure
+as it might make a mighty lot of difference. So, in my crafty way, I
+hedged, and told mother that, for my part, I felt sartain there were
+some secrets that wouldn't even be allowed to come out at Judgment Day,
+for fear of turning heaven into t'other place; and that this was one of
+'em. She always used to fret at that, however.
+
+"I want for it to come out," she'd say. "And, if Jonathan don't know, I
+shall certainly tell him. I've kept it in long enough, and I can't trust
+myself to do it no more. He've got to know, and, with all eternity to
+get over it and forgive me in, I have a right to be hopeful that he
+will."
+
+Hyssop Drake died in that fixed resolve; and I'm sure I trust that, when
+'tis my turn to join my parents again, I shall find no shadow between
+'em. But there's a lot of doubt about it--knowing father.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Skuat, windfall.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH
+
+BY RUTH McENERY STUART
+
+From _Harper's Bazar_, June, 1909. By permission of _Harper's Bazar_.
+
+
+
+
+The Haunted Photograph
+
+BY RUTH McENERY STUART
+
+
+To the ordinary observer it was just a common photograph of a cheap
+summer hotel. It hung sumptuously framed in plush, over the Widow
+Morris's mantel, the one resplendent note in an otherwise modest home,
+in a characteristic Queen Anne village.
+
+One had only to see the rapt face of its owner as she sat in her weeds
+before the picture, which she tearfully pronounced "a strikin'
+likeness," to sympathize with the townsfolk who looked askance at the
+bereaved woman, even while they bore with her delusion, feeling sure
+that her sudden sorrow had set her mind agog.
+
+When she had received the picture through the mail, some months before
+the fire which consumed the hotel--a fire through which she had not
+passed, but out of which she had come a widow--she proudly passed it
+around among the friends waiting with her at the post-office, replying
+to their questions as they admired it:
+
+"Oh, yes! That's where he works--if you can call it work. He's the head
+steward in it. All that row o' winders where you see the awnin's down,
+they're his--an' them that ain't down, they're his, too--that is to say,
+it's his jurisdiction.
+
+"You see, he's got the whip hand over the cook an' the sto'eroom, an'
+that key don't go out o' his belt unless he knows who's gettin'
+what--an' he's firm. Morris always was. He's like the iron law of the
+Ephesians."
+
+"What key?"
+
+It was an old lady who held the picture at arm's length, the more
+closely to scan it, who asked the question. She asked it partly to know,
+as neither man nor key appeared in the photograph, and partly to parry
+the "historic allusion"--a disturbing sort of fire for which Mrs. Morris
+was rather noted and which made some of her most loyal townsfolk a bit
+shy of her.
+
+"Oh, I ain't referrin' to the picture," she hastened to explain. "I mean
+the keys thet he always carries in his belt. The reg'lar joke there is
+to call him 'St. Peter,' an' he takes it in good part, for, he declares,
+if there _is_ such a thing _as_ a similitude to the kingdom o' Heaven
+_in_ a hotel, why, it's in the providential supply department which, in
+a manner, hangs to his belt. He always humors a joke--'specially on
+himself."
+
+No one will ever know through what painful periods of unrequited longing
+the Widow Morris had sought solace in this, her only cherished "relic,"
+after the "half hour of sky-works" which had made her, in her own
+vernacular, "a lonely, conflagrated widow, with a heart full of ashes,"
+before the glad moment when it was given her to discern in it an
+unsuspected and novel value. First had come, as a faint gleam of
+comfort, the reflection that although her dear lost one was not in
+evidence in the picture, he had really been inside the building when the
+photograph was taken, and so, of course, _he must be in there yet_!
+
+At first she experienced a slight disappointment that her man was not
+visible, at door or window. But it was only a passing regret. It was
+really better to feel him surely and broadly within--at large in the
+great house, free to pass at will from one room to another. To have had
+him fixed, no matter how effectively, would have been a limitation. As
+it was, she pressed the picture to her bosom as she wondered if,
+perchance, he would not some day come out of his hiding to meet her.
+
+It was a muffled pleasure and tremulously entertained at first, but the
+very whimsicality of it was an appeal to her sensitized imagination, and
+so, when finally the thing did really happen, it is small wonder that it
+came somewhat as a shock.
+
+It appears that one day, feeling particularly lonely and forlorn, and
+having no other comfort, she was pressing her tear-stained face against
+the row of window-shutters in the room without awnings, this being her
+nearest approach to the alleged occupant's bosom, when she was suddenly
+startled by a peculiar swishing sound, as of wind-blown rain, whereupon
+she lifted her face to perceive that it was indeed raining, and then,
+glancing back at the photograph, she distinctly saw her husband rushing
+from one window to another, drawing down the sashes on the side of the
+house that would have been exposed to the real shower whose music was in
+her ears.
+
+This was a great discovery, and, naturally enough, it set her weeping,
+for, she sobbed, it made her feel, for a minute, that she had lost her
+widowhood and that, after the shower, he'd be coming home.
+
+It might well make any one cry to suddenly lose the pivot upon which his
+emotions are swung. At any rate, Mrs. Morris cried. She said that she
+cried all night, first because it seemed so spooky to see him whose
+remains she had so recently buried on faith, waiving recognition in the
+débris, dashing about now in so matter-of-fact a way.
+
+And then she wept because, after all, he did not come.
+
+This was the formal beginning of her sense of personal companionship in
+the picture--companionship, yes, of delight in it, for there is even
+delight in tears--in some situations in life. Especially is this true of
+one whose emotions are her only guides, as seems to have been the case
+with the Widow Morris.
+
+After seeing him draw the window-sashes--and he had drawn them _down_,
+ignoring her presence--she sat for hours, waiting for the rain to stop.
+It seemed to have set in for a long spell, for when she finally fell
+asleep, "from sheer disappointment, 'long towards morning," it was
+still raining, but when she awoke the sun shone and all the windows in
+the picture were up again.
+
+This was a misleading experience, however, for she soon discovered that
+she could not count upon any line of conduct by the man in the hotel, as
+the fact that it had one time rained in the photograph at the same time
+that it rained outside was but a coincidence and she was soon surprised
+to perceive all quiet along the hotel piazza, not even an awning
+flapping, while the earth, on her plane, was torn by storms.
+
+On one memorable occasion when her husband had appeared, flapping the
+window-panes from within with a towel, she had thought for one brief
+moment that he was beckoning to her, and that she might have to go to
+him, and she was beginning to experience terror, with shortness of
+breath and other premonitions of sudden passing, when she discovered
+that he was merely killing flies, and she flurriedly fanned herself with
+the asbestos mat which she had seized from the stove beside her, and
+staggered out to a seat under the mulberries, as she stammered:
+
+"I do declare, Morris'll be the death of me yet. He's 'most as much care
+to me dead as he was alive--I made sure--made sure he'd come after me!"
+
+Then, feeling her own fidelity challenged, she hastened to add:
+
+"Not that I hadn't rather go to him than to take any trip in the world,
+but--but I never did fancy that hotel, and since I've got used to seein'
+him there so constant, I feel sure that's where we'd put up. My belief
+is, anyway, that if there's hereafters for some things, there's
+hereafters for all. From what I can gather, I reckon I'm a kind of a
+cross between a Swedenborgian and a Gates-ajar--that, of course,
+engrafted on to a Methodist. Now, that hotel, when it was consumed by
+fire, which to it was the same as mortal death, why, it either ascended
+into Heaven, in smoke, or it fell, in ashes--to the other place. If it
+died worthy, like as not it's undergoin' repairs now for a 'mansion,'
+jasper cupalos, an'--but, of course, such as that could be run up in a
+twinklin'.
+
+"Still, from what I've heard, it's more likely gone _down_ to its
+deserts. It would seem hard for a hotel with so many awned-off corridors
+an' palmed embrasures with teet-a-teet sofas, to live along without
+sin."
+
+She stood on her step-ladder, wiping the face of the picture as she
+spoke, and as she began to back down she discovered the cat under her
+elbow, glaring at the picture.
+
+"Yes, Kitty! Spit away!" she exclaimed. "Like as not you see even more
+than I do!"
+
+And as she slipped the ladder back into the closet, she remarked--this
+to herself, strictly:
+
+"If it hadn't 'a' been for poor puss, I'd 'a' had a heap more pleasure
+out o' this picture than what I have had--or will be likely to have
+again. The way she's taken on, I've almost come to hate it!"
+
+A serpent had entered her poor little Eden--even the green-eyed monster
+constrictor, who, if given full swing, would not spare a bone of her
+meager comfort.
+
+A neighbor who chanced to come in at the time, unobserved overheard the
+last remark, and Mrs. Morris, seeing that she was there, continued in an
+unchanged tone, while she gave her a chair:
+
+"Of course, Mis' Withers, you can easy guess who I refer to. I mean that
+combly-featured wench that kep' the books an' answered the telephone at
+the hotel--when she found the time from her meddlin'. Somehow, I never
+thought about her bein' _burned in_ with Morris till puss give her away.
+Puss never did like the girl when she was alive, an' the first time I
+see her scratch an' spit at the picture, just the way she used to do
+whenever _she_ come in sight, why, it just struck me like a clap o'
+thunder out of a clear sky that puss knew who she was a-spittin' at--an'
+I switched around sudden--an' glanced up sudden--an'----
+
+"Well, what I seen, I seen! There was that beautied-up typewriter
+settin' in the window-sill o' Morris's butler's pantry--an' if she
+didn't wink at me malicious, then I don't know malice when I see it. An'
+she used her fingers against her nose, too, most defiant and impolite.
+So I says to puss I says, 'Puss,' I says, 'there's _goin's on_ in that
+hotel, sure as fate. Annabel Bender has got the better o' me, for
+once!' An', tell the truth, it did spoil the photograph for me for a
+while, for, of course, after that, if I didn't see him somewheres on the
+watch for his faithful spouse, I'd say to myself, 'He's inside there
+with that pink-featured hussy!'
+
+"You know, a man's a man, Mis' Withers--'specially Morris, an' with his
+lawful wife cut off an' indefinitely divorced by a longevitied
+family--an' another burned in with him--well, his faithfulness is put to
+a trial by fire, as you might say. So, as I say, it spoiled the picture
+for me, for a while.
+
+"An', to make matters worse, it wasn't any time before I recollected
+that Campbellite preacher thet was burned in with them, an' with that my
+imagination run riot, an' I'd think to myself, '_If_ they're inclined,
+they cert'n'y have things handy!' Then I'd ketch myself an' say,
+'Where's your faith in Scripture, Mary Marthy Matthews, named after two
+Bible women an' born daughter to an apostle? What's the use?' I'd say,
+an' so, first an' last, I'd get a sort o' alpha an' omega comfort out o'
+the passage about no givin' in marriage. Still, there'd be times, pray
+as I would, when them three would loom up, him an' her--_an'_ the
+Campbellite preacher. I know his license to marry would run out _in
+time_, but for eternity, of course we don't know. Seem like everything
+would last forever--an' then again, if I've got a widow's freedom,
+Morris must be classed as a widower, if he's anything.
+
+"Then I'd get some relief in thinkin' about his disposition. Good as he
+was, Morris was fickle-tasted, not in the long run, but day in an' day
+out, an' even if he'd be taken up with her he'd get a distaste the
+minute he reelized she'd be there interminable. That's Morris. Why,
+didn't he used to get nervous just seein' _me_ around, an' me his own
+selected? An' didn't I use to make some excuse to send him over to Mame
+Maddern's ma's ma's--so's he'd be harmlessly diverted? She was full o'
+talk, and she was ninety-odd an' asthmatic, but he'd come home from them
+visits an' call me his child wife. I've had my happy moments!
+
+"You know a man'll get tired of himself, even, if he's condemned to it
+too continual, and think of that blondinetted typewriter for a steady
+diet--to a man like Morris! Imagine her when her hair dye started to
+give out--green streaks in that pompadour! So, knowin' my man, I'd take
+courage an' I'd think, 'Seein' me cut off, he'll soon be wantin' me more
+than ever'--an' so he does. It's got so now that, glance up at that
+hotel any time I will, I can generally find him on the lookout, an'
+many's the time I've stole in an' put on a favoryte apron o' his with
+blue bows on it, when we'd be alone an' nobody to remark about me
+breakin' my mournin'. Dear me, how full o' b'oyancy he was--a regular
+boy at thirty-five, when he passed away!"
+
+Was it any wonder that her friends exchanged glances while Mrs. Morris
+entertained them in so droll a way? Still, as time passed and she not
+only brightened in the light of her delusion, but proceeded to meet the
+conditions of her own life by opening a small shop in her home, and when
+she exhibited a wholesome sense of profit and loss, her neighbors were
+quite ready to accept her on terms of mental responsibility.
+
+With occupation and a modest success, emotional disturbance was surely
+giving place to an even calm, when, one day, something happened.
+
+Mrs. Morris sat behind her counter, sorting notions, puss asleep beside
+her, when she heard the swish of thin silk, with a breath of familiar
+perfume, and, looking up, whom did she see but the blond lady of her
+troubled dreams striding bodily up to the counter, smiling as she
+swished.
+
+At the sight the good woman first rose to her feet, and then as suddenly
+dropped--flopped--breathless and white--backward--and had to be revived,
+so that for the space of some minutes things happened very fast--that
+is, if we may believe the flurried testimony of the blonde, who, in
+going over it, two hours later, had more than once to stop for breath.
+
+"Well, say!" she panted. "Did you ever! _Such_ a turn as took her! I
+hadn't no more 'n stepped in the door when she succumbed, green as the
+Ganges, into her own egg-basket--an' it full! An' she was on the eve o'
+floppin' back into the prunin' scizzor points up, when I scrambled over
+the counter, breakin' my straight-front in two, which she's welcome to,
+poor thing! Then I loaned her my smellin'-salts, which she held her
+breath against until it got to be a case of smell or die, an' she
+smelt! Then it was a case of temporary spasms for a minute, the salts
+spillin' out over her face, but when the accident evaporated, an' she
+opened her eyes, rational, I thought to myself, 'Maybe she don't know
+she's keeled an' would be humiliated if she did,' so I acted callous,
+an' I says, offhand like, I says, pushin' her apron around behind her
+over its _vice versa_, so's to cover up the eggs, which I thought had
+better be broke to her gently, I says, 'I just called in, Mis' Morris,
+to borry your recipe for angel-cake--or maybe get you to bake one for
+us' (I knew she baked on orders). An' with that, what does she do but go
+over again, limp as wet starch, down an' through every egg in that
+basket, solid _an'_ fluid!
+
+"Well, by this time, a man who had seen her at her first worst an' run
+for a doctor, he come in with three, an' whilst they were bowin' to each
+other an' backin', I giv' 'er stimulus an' d'rectly she turned upon me
+one rememberable gaze, an' she says, 'Doctors,' says she, 'would you
+think they'd have the gall to try to get me to cook for 'em? They've
+ordered angel-ca----' An' with that, over she toppled again, no pulse
+nor nothin', same as the dead!"
+
+While the blonde talked she busied herself with her loosely falling
+locks, which she tried vainly to entrap.
+
+"An' yet you say she ain't classed as crazy? I'd say it of her, sure!
+An' so old Morris is dead--burned in that old hotel! Well, well! Poor
+old fellow! Dear old place! What times I've had!"
+
+She spoke through a mouthful of gilt hairpins and her voice was as an
+Æolian harp.
+
+"An' he burned in it--an' she's a widow yet! Yes, I did hear there'd
+been a fire, but you never can tell. I thought the chimney might 'a'
+burned out--an' I was in the thick of bein' engaged to the night clerk
+at the Singin' Needles Hotel at Pineville at the time--an' there's no
+regular mail there. I thought the story might be exaggerated. Oh no, I
+didn't marry the night clerk. I'm a bride now, married to the head
+steward, same rank as poor old Morris--an' we're just _as_ happy! I used
+to pleg Morris about _her_ hair, but I'd have to let up on that now.
+Mine's as red again as hers. No, not my hair--_mine's_ hair. It's as red
+as a flannen drawer, every bit an' grain!
+
+"But, say," she added, presently, "when she gets better, just tell her
+never mind about that reci-pe. I copied it out of her reci-pe book
+whilst she was under the weather, an' dropped a dime in her cash-drawer.
+I recollect how old Morris used to look forward to her angel-cakes
+week-ends he'd be goin' home, an' you know there's nothin' like havin'
+ammunition, in marriage, even if you never need it. Mine's in that frame
+of mind now that transforms my gingerbread into angel-cake, but the time
+may come when I'll have to beat my eggs to a fluff even for angel-cake,
+so's not to have it taste like gingerbread to him.
+
+"Oh no, he's not with me this trip. I just run down for a lark to show
+my folks my ring an' things, an' let 'em see it's really so. He give me
+considerable jewelry. His First's taste run that way, an' they ain't no
+children.
+
+"Yes, this amethyst is the weddin'-ring. I selected that on account of
+him bein' a widower. It's the nearest I'd come to wearin' second
+mournin' for a woman I can't exactly grieve after. The year not bein' up
+is why he stayed home this trip. He didn't like to be seen traversin'
+the same old haunts with Another till it _was_ up. I wouldn't wait
+because, tell the truth, I was afraid. He ain't like a married man with
+me about money yet, an' it's liable to seize him any day. He might say
+that he couldn't afford the trip, or that we couldn't, which would
+amount to the same thing. I rather liked him bein' a little ticklish
+about goin' around with me for a while. It's one thing to do a thing an'
+another to be brazen about it--it----
+
+"But if she don't get better"--the reversion was to the Widow
+Morris--"if she don't get her mind poor thing! there's a fine insane
+asylum just out of Pineville, an' I'd like the best in the world to look
+out for her. It would make an excuse for me to go in. They say they have
+high old times there. Some days they let the inmates do 'most any old
+thing that's harmless. They even give 'em unpoisonous paints an' let 'em
+paint each other up. One man insisted he was a barber-pole an' ringed
+himself accordingly, an' then another chased him around for a stick of
+peppermint candy. Think of all that inside a close fence, an' a town so
+dull an' news-hungry----
+
+"Yes, they say Thursdays is paint days, an', of course, Fridays, they
+are scrub days. They pass around turpentine an' hide the matches. But,
+of course, Mis' Morris may get the better of it. 'Tain' every woman that
+can stand widowin', an' sometimes them that has got the least out of
+marriage will seem the most deprived to lose it--so they say."
+
+The blonde was a person of words.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Mrs. Morris had fully revived and, after a restoring "night's
+sleep" had got her bearings, and when she realized clearly that her
+supposed rival had actually shown up in the flesh, she visibly braced
+up. Her neighbors understood that it must have been a shock "to be
+suddenly confronted with any souvenir of the hotel fire"--so one had
+expressed it--and the incident soon passed out of the village mind.
+
+It was not long after this incident that the widow confided to a friend
+that she was coming to depend upon Morris for advice in her business.
+
+"Standing as he does, in that hotel door--between two worlds, as you
+might say--why, he sees both ways, and oftentimes he'll detect an event
+_on the way to happening_, an' if it don't move too fast, why, I can
+hustle an' get the better of things." It was as if she had a private
+wire for advance information--and she declared herself happy.
+
+Indeed, a certain ineffable light such as we sometimes see in the eyes
+of those newly in love came to shine from the face of the widow, who did
+not hesitate to affirm, looking into space as she said it:
+
+"Takin' all things into consideration, I can truly say that I have never
+been so truly and ideely married as since my widowhood." And she smiled
+as she added:
+
+"Marriage, the earthly way, is vicissitudinous, for everybody knows that
+anything is liable to happen to a man at large."
+
+There had been a time when she lamented that her picture was not
+"life-sized" as it would seem so much more natural, but she immediately
+reflected that that hotel would never have gotten into her little house,
+and that, after all, the main thing was having "him" under her own roof.
+
+As the months passed Mrs. Morris, albeit she seemed serene and of
+peaceful mind, grew very white and still. Fire is white in its ultimate
+intensity. The top, spinning its fastest, is said to "sleep"--and the
+dancing dervish is "still." So, misleading signs sometimes mark the
+danger-line.
+
+"Under-eating and over-thinking" was what the doctor said while he felt
+her translucent wrist and prescribed nails in her drinking-water. If he
+secretly knew that kind nature was gently letting down the bars so that
+a waiting spirit might easily pass--well, he was a doctor, not a
+minister. His business was with the body, and he ordered repairs.
+
+She was only thirty-seven and "well" when she passed painlessly out of
+life. It seemed to be simply a case of going.
+
+There were several friends at her bedside the night she went, and to
+them she turned, feeling the time come:
+
+"I just wanted to give out that the first thing I intend to do when I'm
+relieved is to call by there for Morris"--she lifted her weary eyes to
+the picture as she spoke--"for Morris--and I want it understood that
+it'll be a vacant house from the minute I depart. So, if there's any
+other woman that's calculatin' to have any carryin's-on from them
+windows--why, she'll be disappointed--she or they. The one obnoxious
+person I thought was in it _wasn't_. My imagination was tempted of Satan
+an' I was misled. So it must be sold for just what it is--just a
+photographer's photograph. If it's a picture with a past, why, everybody
+knows what that past is, and will respect it. I have tried to conquer
+myself enough to bequeath it to the young lady I suspicioned, but human
+nature is frail, an' I can't quite do it, although doubtless she would
+like it as a souvenir. Maybe she'd find it a little too souvenirish to
+suit my wifely taste, and yet--if a person is going to die----
+
+"I suppose I might legate it to her, partly to recompense her for her
+discretion in leaving that hotel when she did--an' partly for undue
+suspicion----
+
+"There's a few debts to be paid, but there's eggs an' things that'll pay
+them, an' there's no need to have the hen settin' in the window showcase
+any longer. It was a good advertisement, but I've often thought it
+might be embarrassin' to her." She was growing weaker, but she roused
+herself to amend:
+
+"Better raffle the picture for a dollar a chance an' let the proceeds go
+to my funeral--an' I want to be buried in the hotel-fire general grave,
+commingled with him--an' what's left over after the debts are paid, I
+bequeath to _her_--to make amends--an' if she don't care to come for it,
+let every widow in town draw for it. But she'll come. 'Most any woman'll
+take any trip, if it's paid for--But look!" she raised her eyes
+excitedly toward the mantel, "Look! What's that he's wavin'? It
+looks--oh yes, it is--it's our wings--two pairs--mine a little smaller.
+I s'pose it'll be the same old story--I'll never be able to keep up--to
+keep up with him--an' I've been so hap----
+
+"Yes, Morris--I'm comin'----"
+
+And she was gone--into a peaceful sleep from which she easily passed
+just before dawn.
+
+When all was well over, the sitting women rose with one accord and went
+to the mantel, where one even lighted an extra candle more clearly to
+scan the mysterious picture.
+
+Finally one said:
+
+"You may think I'm queer, but it does look different to me already!"
+
+"So it does," said another, taking the candle. "Like a house for rent. I
+declare, it gives me the cold shivers."
+
+"I'll pay my dollar gladly, and take a chance for it," whispered a
+third, "but I wouldn't let such a thing as that enter my happy home----"
+
+"Neither would I!"
+
+"Nor me, neither. I've had trouble enough. My husband's first wife's
+portrait has brought me discord enough--an' it was a straight likeness.
+I don't want any more pictures to put in the hen-house loft."
+
+So the feeling ran among the wives.
+
+"Well," said she who was blowing out the candle, "I'll draw for it--an'
+take it if I win it, an' consider it a sort of inheritance. I never
+inherited anything but indigestion."
+
+The last speaker was a maiden lady, and so was she who answered,
+chuckling:
+
+"That's what I say! Anything for a change. There'd be some excitement in
+a picture where a man was liable to show up. It's more than I've got
+now. I do declare it's just scandalous the way we're gigglin', an' the
+poor soul hardly out o' hearin'. She had a kind heart, Mis' Morris had,
+an' she made herself happy with a mighty slim chance----"
+
+"Yes, she did--and I only wish there'd been a better man waitin' for her
+in that hotel."
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST THAT GOT THE BUTTON
+
+BY WILL ADAMS
+
+From _Collier's Weekly_, May 24, 1913. By permission of _Collier's
+Weekly_ and Will Adams.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost that Got the Button
+
+BY WILL ADAMS
+
+
+One autumn evening, when the days were shortening and the darkness fell
+early on Hotchkiss and the frost was beginning to adorn with its fine
+glistening lace the carbine barrels of the night sentries as they walked
+post, Sergeants Hansen and Whitney and Corporal Whitehall had come to
+Stone's room after supper, feeling the need common to all men in the
+first cold nights of the year for a cozy room, a good smoke, and
+congenial companionship.
+
+The steam heat, newly turned on, wheezed and whined through the
+radiator: the air was blue and dense with tobacco smoke; the three
+sergeants reposed in restful, if inelegant attitudes, and Whitehall, his
+feet on the window sill and his wooden chair tilted back, was holding
+forth between puffs at a very battered pipe about an old colored woman
+who kept a little saloon in town.
+
+"So she got mad at those K troop men," he said. "An' nex' day when
+Turner stopped there for a drink she says: 'You git outer yere! You men
+fum de Arsenic wid de crossbones on you caps, I ain't lettin' you in;
+but de Medical Corpses an' de Non-efficient Officers, dey may come.'"
+
+The laugh that followed was interrupted by the approach of a raucous,
+shrieking noise that rose and fell in lugubrious cadence. "What the
+deuce!" exclaimed Whitehall, starting up.
+
+"That's Bill," explained Stone. "Bill Sullivan. He thinks he's singin'.
+Funny you never heard him before, Kid, but then he's not often taken
+that way, thank the Lord."
+
+"Come in, Bill," he called, "an' tell us what's the matter. Feel sick?
+Where's the pain?" he asked as big Bill appeared in the doorway.
+
+"Come in, hombre, an' rest yo'self," invited Whitney, and hospitably
+handed over his tobacco-pouch. "What was that tune yo'all were singin'
+out yonder?"
+
+"Thanks," responded Bill, settling down. "That there tune was 'I Wonder
+Where You Are To-night, My Love.'"
+
+"Sounded like 'Sister's Teeth Are Plugged with Zinc,'" commented
+Whitney.
+
+"Or 'Lookin' Through the Knot Hole in Papa's Wooden Leg,'" said
+Whitehall.
+
+"Or 'He Won't Buy the Ashman a Manicure Set,'" added Stone.
+
+"No," reiterated Bill solemnly. "It was like I told yer; 'I Wonder Where
+You Are To-night, My Love,' and it's a corker, too! I seen a feller an'
+a goil sing it in Kelly's Voddyville Palace out ter Cheyenne onct. Foist
+he'd sing one voise an' then she'd sing the nex'. He was dressed like a
+soldier, an' while he sang they was showin' tabloids o' what the goil
+was a-doin' behind him; an' then when she sang her voise he'd be in the
+tabloid, an' when it got ter the last voise, an' he was dyin' on a
+stretcher in a ambulance, everybody in the house was a-cryin' so yer
+could hardly hear her. It was great! My!" continued Bill, spreading out
+his great paws over the radiator, "ain't this the snappy evenin'? Real
+cold. Somehow it 'minds me of the cold we had in China that time of the
+Boxers, after we'd got ter the Legations; the nights was cold just like
+this is."
+
+"Why, Bill," said Whitney, "I never knew yo'all were there then. Why did
+yo' never tell us befo'? What were yo' with?"
+
+"Fourteenth Infantry," responded Bill proudly. "It's a great ol'
+regiment--don't care if they _are_ doughboys."
+
+"What company was you in?" inquired Hansen, ponderously taking his pipe
+from his mouth and breaking silence for the first time.
+
+"J Company, same as this."
+
+At this reply Stone opened his mouth abruptly to say something, but
+thought better of it and shut up again.
+
+"It was blame cold them nights a week or so after we was camped in the
+Temple of Agriculture (that's what they called it--I dunno why), but
+say! the heat comin' up from Tientsin was fryin'! It was jus' boilin',
+bakin', an' bubblin'--worse a heap than anythin' we'd had in the
+islands. We chucked away mos' every last thing on that hike but canteens
+an' rifles. It was a darn fool thing ter do--the chuckin' was, o'
+course--but it come out all right, 'cause extree supplies follered us up
+on the Pie-ho in junks. Ain't that a funny name fer a river? Pie-ho?
+Every time I got homesick I'd say that river, an' then I'd see Hogan's
+Dairy Lunch fer Ladies an' Gents on the ol' Bowery an' hear the kid Mick
+Hogan yellin': 'Draw one in the dark! White wings--let her flop!
+Pie-ho!' an' it helped me a heap." Bill settled himself and stretched.
+
+"But what I really wanted to tell youse about," said he, "was somepin'
+that happened one o' these here cold nights. It gits almighty cold there
+in September, an' it was sure the spookiest show I ever seen. Even Marm
+Haggerty's table rappin's in Hester Street never come up to it.
+
+"There was three of us fellers who ran in a bunch them days: me an' Buck
+Dugan, my bunkie, from the Bowery like me (he was a corporal), an' Ranch
+Fields--we called him that 'cause he always woiked on a ranch before he
+come into the Fourteenth. They was great fellers, Buck an' Ranch was.
+Buck, now--yer couldn't phase him, yer couldn't never phase him, no
+matter what sort o' job yer put him up against he'd slide through slick
+as a greased rat. The Cap'n, he knew it, too. Onct when we was fightin'
+an' hadn't no men to spare, he lef' Buck on guard over about
+twenty-five Boxer prisoners in a courtyard an' tells him he dassent let
+one escape. But Buck wants ter git into the fight with the rest of the
+boys, an' when he finds that if he leaves them Chinos loose in the yard
+alone they'll git out plenty quick, what does he do but tie 'em tight up
+by their pigtails to some posts. He knows they can't undo them tight
+knots backwards, an' no Chink would cut his pigtail if he _did_ have a
+knife--he'd die foist--an' so Buck skidoos off to the fight, an', sure
+enough, when the Cap'n wants them Boxers, they're ready, tied up an'
+waitin'. That was his sort, an', gee, but he was smart!
+
+"We was all right int'rested in them Allies, o' course, an' watched 'em
+clost; but, 'Bill,' says Buck ter me one night, 'its been woikin in me
+nut that these here fellers ain't so different from what we know
+a'ready. Excep' fer their uniform an' outfits, we've met 'em all before
+but the Japs. Why, look a-here,' says he, 'foist, there's the white
+men--the English--ain't they jus' like us excep' that they're thicker
+an' we're longer? An' their Injun niggers--ain't we seen their clothes
+in the comic op'ras an' them without their clothes in the monkey cage at
+Central Park? An' their Hong-kong China Regiment an' all the other
+Chinos is jus' the same as yer meet in the pipe joints in Mott Street.
+Then,' says he, 'come all the Dagos. These leather necks of Macaroni
+Dagos we've seen a swarmin' all over Mulberry Bend an' Five Points; the
+Sauerkraut Dagos looks fer all the woild like they was goin' ter a
+Schützenfest up by High Bridge; the Froggie Dagos you'll find packed in
+them Frenchy restaraws in the Thirties--where yer git blue wine--and
+them Vodki Dagos only needs a pushcart ter make yer think yer in Baxter
+Street.'
+
+"Buck, he could sure talk, but Ranch, he wasn't much on chin-chin.
+Little an' dark an' quiet he was, an' jus' crazy fer dogs. Any old
+mutt'd do fer him--jus' so's it was in the shape of a pup. He was fair
+wild fer 'em. He picked up a yeller cur out there the day after the
+Yangtsin fight, an' that there no-account, mangy, flea-bitten mutt had
+ter stay with us the whole time. If the pup didn't stand in me an' Buck
+an' Ranch, he swore he'd quit too, so we had to let him come, an' he
+messed an' bunked with our outfit right along. Ranch named him Daggett,
+after the Colonel, which was right hard on the C. O., but I bet Ranch
+thought he was complimentin' him. Why, Ranch considered himself honored
+if any of the pup's fleas hopped off on him. The pup he kep' along with
+us right through everything; Ranch watchin' him like the apple of his
+eye, an' he hardly ever was out of our sight, till one night about a
+week after we quartered in the temple he didn't turn up fer supper. He
+was always so reg'lar at his chow that Ranch he begin ter git the
+squirms an' when come taps an' Daggett hadn't reported, Ranch had the
+razzle-dazzles.
+
+"Nex' mornin' the foist thing he must go hunt that pup, an' went a
+scoutin' all day, me an' Buck helpin' him--but nary pup; an' come
+another supper without that miser'ble mutt, an' Ranch was up an alley
+all right, all right. He was all wore out, an' I made him hit the bunk
+early an' try ter sleep; but, Lord! No sooner he'd drop off 'n he git
+ter twitchin' an' hitchin' an' wake up a-yelpin' fer Daggett. Long about
+taps, Buck, who's been out on a private reconnoissance, comes back an'
+whispers ter me: 'Ssst, Bill! The cur's found! Don't tell Ranch; the
+bloke'd die of heart failure. I struck his trail an' follered it--an'
+say, Bill, what'n thunder do yer think? Them heathen Chinos has _et
+him_!' Lord, now, wouldn't that jolt youse? Them Chinos a-eatin'
+Daggett! It give me an awful jar, an' Buck he felt it, too. That there
+mutt had acted right decent, an' we knew Ranch would have bats in the
+belfry fer fair if he hoid tell o' the pup's finish; so says Buck;
+'Let's not tell him, 'cause he's takin' on now like he'd lost mother an'
+father an' best goil an' all, an' if he knew Daggett was providin' chow
+fer Chinos he'd go clean bug house an' we'd have ter ship him home ter
+St. Elizabeth.'
+
+"I says O. K. ter that, an' we made it up not ter let on ter Ranch; an'
+now here comes the spook part yer been a-waitin' fer.
+
+"Four or five nights later I was on guard, an' my post was the farthest
+out we had on the north. There was an ol' road out over that way, an'
+I'd hoid tell it led ter a ol' graveyard, but I hadn't never been there
+myself an' hadn't thought much about it till 'long between two an'
+three o'clock, as I was a-hikin' up an down, when somepin' comes
+a-zizzin' down the road hell-fer-leather on to me, a-yellin' somepin'
+fierce. Gee, but I was skeered! I made sure it was a spook, an' there
+wasn't a bit o' breath left in me. I was all to the bad that time fer
+sure. Before I had time ter think even, that screamin', streakin' thing
+was on me an a-grabbin' roun' my knees; an' then I see it was one o'
+them near-Christian Chinos, an' he's skeered more'n me even. His eyes
+had popped clean out'n their slits, an' his tongue was hangin' out by
+the roots, he was that locoed. I raised the long yell fer corporal of
+the guard, which happened, by good luck, ter be Buck, an' when he come
+a-runnin', thinkin' from the whoops I give we was bein' rushed by the
+hole push of Boxers, the two of us began proddin' at the Chink ter find
+out what was doin'. Took us some time, too, with him bein' in such a
+flutter an' hardly able ter even hand out his darn ol' pigeon English,
+that sounds like language comin' out of a sausage machine. When we did
+savvy his line of chop-suey talk, we found out he'd seen a ghost in the
+graveyard, an' not only seen it but he knew who the spook was an' all
+about him. We was gittin' some serious ourselves an' made him tell us.
+
+"Seems it was a mandarin--that's a sort o' Chink police-court judge
+(till I got ter Tientsin I always thought they was little oranges), an'
+this tangerine's--I mean mandarin's--name was Wu Ti Ming, an' he'd been
+a high mucky-muckraker in his day, which was two or three hundred years
+back. But the Emprer caught him deep in some sort o' graft an' _took
+away his button_ an' all o' his dough.
+
+"'Lord!' says Buck when we come ter this, 'don't that prove what
+heathens Chinks is? Only one button ter keep on their clothes with, an'
+the Emprer he kin take it away! What did this here Judge Ming do then,
+John? Use string or pins?' This here John didn't seem ter savvy, but he
+said that the mandarin took on so fer his button an' his loss of pull in
+the ward that it was sure sad ter see, an' by an' by the Emprer got busy
+again with him an' had him finished up fer keeps; had him die the 'death
+of a thousand cuts,' says John. It sounded fierce ter me, but Buck he
+says:
+
+"'Pshaw! Anybody who's been shaved reg'lar by them lady barbers on
+Fourth Avenyer would 'a' give the Emprer the merry ha-ha----'
+
+"After Ming was cut up they took the remains of his corpse an' planted
+him in this here graveyard up the road; but he wouldn't stay planted an'
+began doin' stunts at night, 'topside walkee-walkee' an' a-huntin' fer
+his lost button. He'd used ter have the whole country scared up, but fer
+the last twenty years he'd kep' right quiet an' had hardly ever come
+out; but now sence the foreign devils come (ain't that a sweet name fer
+us?) he's up an' at it again worse than ever, an' the heathens is on
+their ear. Fer four nights now they'd seen him, wrapped in a blue robe,
+waitin' an' a-huntin' behind tombstones an' walkin' round an' round the
+graveyard lie a six days' race fer the belt at Madison Square. John had
+jus' seen him on the wall, an' that was why he come chargin' down the
+road like forty cats.
+
+"'Will Mr. Ming's sperrit walk till he gits that button back?' Buck
+asts. John says: 'Sure.'
+
+"'Well,' says Buck, 'why don't yer give him one?'
+
+"'No can give. Only Emplor, only Son of Heaven give.'
+
+"'Well, look here,' says Buck, 'we sand rabbits ain't no sons of Heaven,
+but I'll be darned if we couldn't spare a button ter lay the ghost of a
+pore busted police-court judge, who's lost his job an' his tin, if
+_that's_ all he wants back. What time does he come out at, John? Could
+we see him ter-morrer night?' 'Sure could we,' says John; 'he'll show us
+the way, but he won't wait with us; he's bad enough fer his.'
+
+"So Buck takes John an' goes back ter the guard shack, as it's most time
+fer relief, an' after I got back we told John ter git the hook, an' we
+talked things over, an' Buck he was just wild ter see if he couldn't lay
+that Chino ghost. His talents was achin' ter git action on him; anythin'
+like that got up his spunk. Says I:
+
+"'Maybe Ranch kin help. We'll tell him ter-morrer after guard mount.
+It'll take his mind off Daggett.'
+
+"'No, yer don't,' says Buck. 'Don't yer dare tell him. He's nervous as a
+cat over the pup as it is, an' this spook business is awful skeery; I'm
+feelin' woozy over it meself. I'm all off when it comes ter ghosts--that
+is, if it's a real ghost. And things here in Pekin' is so funny the odds
+is all in favor of its bein' the sure thing. I ain't afeard o' no kinds
+o' people, but I sure git cold feet when I'm up against a ghost.
+Wouldn't that jar youse? An' me a soldier; when it's a soldier's whole
+business not ter _git_ cold feet. But I'm bound I'll have a show at that
+ol' spook even if it _does_ skeer me out o' my growth. Only don't yer
+dare tell Ranch.'
+
+"Nex' night, right after eleven o'clock rounds, me an' Buck slipped
+outer our blankets, sneaked out past the guard, an' met John, who was
+waitin' fer us in the road jus' beyond where the last sentry woulder
+seen him. It was cold as git out. Jus' the same kind o' early cold as
+to-night, an' John's teeth was chatterin' like peas in a box--he was
+some loco with skeer, too, you bet.
+
+"'Which way?' says Buck, an' John spouts a lot o' dope-joint lingo an'
+takes us up a side alley, where there's a whole bunch o' Chinos waitin'
+fer us, an' they begun a kowtowin' an' goin' on like we was the whole
+cheese. Turned out that John had jollied 'em that the Melican soldier
+mans was big medicine an' would make Judge Ming quit the midnight hike
+an' cut out scarin' 'em blue. That jus' suited Buck; he was all there
+when it come ter play commander in chief. He swelled up an' give 'em a
+bundle o' talk that John put in Chino fer 'em, an' then finished up by
+showin' 'em a button--a ol' United States Army brass button he'd cut off
+his blue blouse--an' tol' 'em he was goin' ter bury it in Ming's grave
+so as ter keep him bedded down.
+
+"An' them simple idiots was pleased ter death, an' the whole outfit
+escorted us over ter the graveyard, but they shied at the gate (Lord, I
+hated ter see 'em go--even if they _was_ heathens!), an' let John take
+us in an' show us where ter wait. He put us in behind a pile o' little
+rocks in about the middle o' the place near where Judge Ming hung out,
+an' then retired on the main body at the double, leavin' us two in
+outpost alone there together. I hadn't never been ter a Chino buryin'
+ground before, an' night time wasn't extree pleasant fer a foist
+introduce. There was a new moon that night--a little shavin' of a thing
+that hardly gave no light, an' from where we was there was a twisty pine
+tree branch that struck out right acrost it like a picture card--two fer
+five. The graveyard was all dark an' quiet, with little piles o' rocks
+an' stone tables ter mark the graves, an' a four- or five-foot wall
+runnin' all round it; an' somehow, without nothin' stirrin' at all, the
+whole blame place seemed chock full o' movin' shadders. There wasn't a
+sound neither; not the least little thing; jus' them shadders; an' the
+harder yous'd look at 'em the more they seemed ter move. It was cold,
+too, like I told yer--bitin' cold--an' me an' Buck squatted there tight
+together an' mos' friz. We waited, an' we waited, an' _we waited_, an'
+we got skeerder, an' skeerder, an' _skeerder_, an', gee! how we
+shivered! Every minute we thought we'd see Judge Ming, but a long time
+went by an' he didn't come an' he _didn't_ come. There we set, strung up
+tight an' ready ter snap like a banjo string, but nothin' ter see but
+the shakin' shadders an' nothin' ter hear--nothin' but jus' dead, dead
+silence.
+
+"All of a suddent Buck (he kin hear a pin drop a mile away) nearly nips
+a piece out'n my arm as he grips me. 'Listen!' says he.
+
+"I listened an' listened, but I didn't hear nothin', an' I told him so.
+
+"'Yes, yer do, yer bloke yer,' he whispers, 'Listen. Strain your years.'
+
+"Then way off I did begin ter hear somepin'. It was a long, funny, waily
+cry, sort o' like the way cats holler at each other at night. 'Oh-oo-oo,
+oh-oo-oo!' like that, an' it come nearer an' nearer. Then all of a
+suddent somepin' popped up on the graveyard wall about a hundred yards
+away--somepin' all blue-gray against the hook o' the moon--an' began
+walkin' up an' down an' hollerin'. I knew it was sayin' words, but I was
+so far to the bad I didn't know nothin' an' couldn't make it out. I
+never thought a feller's heart could bang so hard against his ribs
+without bustin' out, an' me hair riz so high me campaign hat was three
+inches off'n me head. I hope ter the Lord I'll never be so frightened
+again in all my livin' days. I set there in a transom from fear an' friz
+ter the spot. I don't know nothin' o' what Buck was doin', as my lamps
+was glued ter the spook. It jumped down from the wall, callin' an'
+whistlin' an' begin runnin' round the little stone heaps. I seen it was
+comin' our way, but I couldn't move or make a sound; I jus' set. All of
+a suddent Buck he jumps up an' makes a dash an' a leap at the spook, an'
+there's a terrible yellin' an' they both comes down crash at the foot of
+a rock pile, rollin' on the little pebbles; but Buck is on top an' the
+spook underneath an' lettin' off the most awful screeches. Gosh, they
+jus' ripped the air, them spooks' yells did, an' they turned my spell
+loose an' I howled fer all I was worth. Then Buck, he commenced
+a-yawpin' too, but me an' the spook we was both raisin' so much noise I
+didn't savvy what he said fer some time. Then I found he was cussin' me
+out.
+
+"'Come here, you forsaken ---- ----,' he howls. 'Quit yellin'! I say _quit
+yellin'_! Don't yer see who this is? Come here an' help me.'
+
+"'You think I'm goin' ter tech that Ming spook?' I shrieks.
+
+"'You miser'ble loony,' he yells back, 'can't yer see it ain't no Ming?
+It's Ranch!'
+
+"Well, so it was. It was Ranch skeered stiff an' hollerin' fer dear life
+at bein' jumped on an' waked up in the middle of a graveyard that-a-way.
+Pore ol' feller had had Daggett on his mind, an' went sleepwalkin' an'
+huntin' wrapped in his blanket.
+
+"'An',' says Buck ter me, 'if youse hadn't been in such a dope dream
+with skeer, you'd 'a' sensed what he was a-yellin'. He was callin'
+"Oh-oo-oo, oh-oo-oo, here Daggett! Here, boy!" an' then he'd whistle an'
+call again: "Here, Daggett! Here, Daggett!" That's how I knew it was
+Ranch; an', besides, he told me onct that he sleepwalked when he got
+worried. But you, you white livered--' an' then he cussed me out some
+more.
+
+"'Smarty,' I says, 'if yer knew so blame well it was Ranch, why did yer
+give him the flyin' tackle like yer done an' git him all woiked up like
+this?'
+
+"'Well,' says Buck sort o' sheepy, 'I was some woiked up meself, an'
+time he come along I give him the spook's tackle without thinkin'; I was
+too skeered ter think. Hush, Ranch. Hush, old boy. It's jus' me'n Bill.
+Nobody shan't hoit yer.'
+
+"We comforted pore ol' Ranch an' fixed him up, an' then when he felt
+better told him about things--all but how Daggett was et--an' I wrapped
+his blanket around him an' took him back ter quarters while Buck went
+a-lookin' fer John an' his gang.
+
+"He found 'em about half a mile off, in front of a Mott Street joss
+house, all prayin' an' burnin' punk an' huddled together, skeered green
+from the yellin's they'd heard. Buck, he give 'em a long chin-chin about
+layin' the ghost, an' how Judge Ming wouldn't never come back no more;
+an' then he dragged 'em all back (they pullin' at the halter shanks with
+years laid back an' eyes rollin'), ter him bury his United States button
+on Ming's rock pile. He dropped it in solemn, an' said what the Chinks
+took ter be a prayer; but it was really the oath he said. Buck havin'
+onct been a recruitin' sergeant, knew it by heart all the way from 'I do
+solemnly swear' ter 'so help me, Gawd.' Buck says I oughter seen them
+grateful Chinos then: they'd 'a' give him the whole Chino Umpire if they
+could. They got down an' squirmed an' kissed his hands an' his feet an'
+his sleeve. They wanted ter escort him back ter camp, but he bucked at
+that, an' said no, as he was out without pass an' not itchin' fer his
+arrival ter be noticed none.
+
+"After that we took toins watchin' Ranch at night, an' got him another
+mutt ter love, an' he didn't wander any more, so Judge Ming seemed
+satisfied with his United States button, an' kep' quiet. But them Chinks
+was the gratefullest gang yer ever seen. They brought us presents;
+things ter eat--fruit, poultry, eggs, an' all sorts of chow, some of it
+mighty funny lookin', but it tasted all right; we lived high, we three.
+The other fellers was wild ter know how we woiked it. An' I tell yer I
+ain't never been skeered o' ghosts sence--that is, not ter speak
+of--_much_!"
+
+Bill, paused, drew a long breath, and looked at the clock. "Gee!" said
+he, "most nine o'clock. I got ter go over ter K troop ter see Sergeant
+Keefe a minute--I promised him. Adios, fellers. Thanks fer the smokin'."
+
+"Keep the change, hombre. Thanks for yo' tale," shouted Whitney after
+him as he disappeared down the hall.
+
+"Well!!" said Stone, and looked at Hansen.
+
+"Well!!" responded Hansen. The big Swede shook with laughter. "Iss he
+not the finest liar! Yess? I wass in the Fourteenth myselluf. That wass
+my company--Chay. He wass not even the army in then--in nineteen
+hund'erd."
+
+"Yes," said Stone, "I knew, but I wasn't goin' to spoil his bloomin'
+yarn. I happened to see his enlistment card only this mornin', and the
+only thing he was ever in before was the Twenty-third Infantry after
+they came back from the Islands. He's never even been out of the
+States."
+
+"But where did he get it from?" asked Whitney. "His imagination is equal
+to most anything but gettin' so many facts straight. Of co'se I noticed
+things yere an' there--but the most of it was O. K."
+
+"I tell you," said Hansen, grinning, "he got it from an old Fourteenth
+man--Dan Powerss--at practice camp last Chuly. He an' I wass often
+talking of China. He wuss in my old company an' wass then telling me how
+he an' the other fellerss all that extra chow got. I tank Bill he hass a
+goot memory."
+
+"But the nerve of him!" cried Whitehall, "tryin' ter pass that off on us
+with Hansen sittin' right there."
+
+"It iss one thing he may have forgot," smiled Hansen.
+
+"Well, who cares anyway?" said Stone. "It was a blame good story. An'
+now clear out, all of you. I want to hit the bunk. Reveille does seem to
+come so early these cold mornin's. Gee! I wish I knew of some kind of
+button that would keep _me_ lyin' down when Shorty wants me to get up
+an' call the roll."
+
+
+
+
+THE SPECTER BRIDEGROOM
+
+BY WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+
+
+
+The Specter Bridegroom
+
+A TRAVELER'S TALE[2]
+
+BY WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+    He that supper for is dight,
+    He lyes full cold, I trow, this night!
+    Yestreen to chamber I him led,
+    This night Gray-Steel has made his bed.
+    SIR EGER, SIR GRAHAME, AND SIR GRAY-STEEL.
+
+
+On the summit of one of the heights of the Odenwald, a wild and romantic
+tract of Upper Germany, that lies not far from the confluence of the
+Main and the Rhine, there stood, many, many years since, the Castle of
+the Baron Von Landshort. It is now quite fallen to decay, and almost
+buried among beech trees and dark firs; above which, however, its old
+watch tower may still be seen, struggling, like the former possessor I
+have mentioned, to carry a high head, and look down upon the neighboring
+country.
+
+The baron was a dry branch of the great family of Katzenellenbogen,[3]
+and inherited the relics of the property, and all the pride of his
+ancestors. Though the warlike disposition of his predecessors had much
+impaired the family possessions, yet the baron still endeavored to keep
+up some show of former state. The times were peaceable, and the German
+nobles, in general, had abandoned their inconvenient old castles,
+perched like eagles' nests among the mountains, and had built more
+convenient residences in the valleys; still the baron remained proudly
+drawn up in his little fortress, cherishing with hereditary inveteracy,
+all the old family feuds; so that he was on ill terms with some of his
+nearest neighbors, on account of disputes that had happened between
+their great-great-grandfathers.
+
+The baron had but one child, a daughter; but nature, when she grants but
+one child, always compensates by making it a prodigy; and so it was with
+the daughter of the baron. All the nurses, gossips, and country cousins
+assured her father that she had not her equal for beauty in all Germany;
+and who should know better than they? She had, moreover, been brought up
+with great care under the superintendence of two maiden aunts, who had
+spent some years of their early life at one of the little German
+courts, and were skilled in all branches of knowledge necessary to the
+education of a fine lady. Under their instructions she became a miracle
+of accomplishments. By the time she was eighteen, she could embroider to
+admiration, and had worked whole histories of the saints in tapestry,
+with such strength of expression in their countenances, that they looked
+like so many souls in purgatory. She could read without great
+difficulty, and had spelled her way through several church legends, and
+almost all the chivalric wonders of the Heldenbuch. She had even made
+considerable proficiency in writing; could sign her own name without
+missing a letter, and so legibly, that her aunts could read it without
+spectacles. She excelled in making little elegant good-for-nothing
+lady-like nicknacks of all kinds; was versed in the most abstruse
+dancing of the day; played a number of airs on the harp and guitar; and
+knew all the tender ballads of the Minnelieders by heart.
+
+Her aunts, too, having been great flirts and coquettes in their younger
+days, were admirably calculated to be vigilant guardians and strict
+censors of the conduct of their niece; for there is no duenna so rigidly
+prudent, and inexorably decorous, as a superannuated coquette. She was
+rarely suffered out of their sight; never went beyond the domains of the
+castle, unless well attended, or rather well watched; had continual
+lectures read to her about strict decorum and implicit obedience; and,
+as to the men--pah!--she was taught to hold them at such a distance, and
+in such absolute distrust, that, unless properly authorized, she would
+not have cast a glance upon the handsomest cavalier in the world--no,
+not if he were even dying at her feet.
+
+The good effects of this system were wonderfully apparent. The young
+lady was a pattern of docility and correctness. While others were
+wasting their sweetness in the glare of the world, and liable to be
+plucked and thrown aside by every hand, she was coyly blooming into
+fresh and lovely womanhood under the protection of those immaculate
+spinsters, like a rosebud blushing forth among guardian thorns. Her
+aunts looked upon her with pride and exultation, and vaunted that though
+all the other young ladies in the world might go astray, yet, thank
+Heaven, nothing of the kind could happen to the heiress of
+Katzenellenbogen.
+
+But, however scantily the Baron Von Landshort might be provided with
+children, his household was by no means a small one; for Providence had
+enriched him with abundance of poor relations. They, one and all,
+possessed the affectionate disposition common to humble relatives; were
+wonderfully attached to the baron, and took every possible occasion to
+come in swarms and enliven the castle. All family festivals were
+commemorated by these good people at the baron's expense; and when they
+were filled with good cheer, they would declare that there was nothing
+on earth so delightful as these family meetings, these jubilees of the
+heart.
+
+The baron, though a small man, had a large soul, and it swelled with
+satisfaction at the consciousness of being the greatest man in the
+little world about him. He loved to tell long stories about the dark old
+warriors whose portraits looked grimly down from the walls around, and
+he found no listeners equal to those that fed at his expense. He was
+much given to the marvelous, and a firm believer in all those
+supernatural tales with which every mountain and valley in Germany
+abounds. The faith of his guests exceeded even his own: they listened to
+every tale of wonder with open eyes and mouth, and never failed to be
+astonished, even though repeated for the hundredth time. Thus lived the
+Baron Von Landshort, the oracle of his table, the absolute monarch of
+his little territory, and happy, above all things, in the persuasion
+that he was the wisest man of the age.
+
+At the time of which my story treats, there was a great family gathering
+at the castle, on an affair of the utmost importance: it was to receive
+the destined bridegroom of the baron's daughter. A negotiation had been
+carried on between the father and an old nobleman of Bavaria, to unite
+the dignity of their houses by the marriage of their children. The
+preliminaries had been conducted with proper punctilio. The young people
+were betrothed without seeing each other, and the time was appointed for
+the marriage ceremony. The young Count Von Altenburg had been recalled
+from the army for the purpose, and was actually on his way to the
+baron's to receive his bride. Missives had even been received from him
+from Wurtzburg, where he was accidentally detained, mentioning the day
+and hour when he might be expected to arrive.
+
+The castle was in a tumult of preparation to give him a suitable
+welcome. The fair bride had been decked out with uncommon care. The two
+aunts had superintended her toilet, and quarreled the whole morning
+about every article of her dress. The young lady had taken advantage of
+their contest to follow the bent of her own taste; and fortunately it
+was a good one. She looked as lovely as youthful bridegroom could
+desire; and the flutter of expectation heightened the luster of her
+charms.
+
+The suffusions that mantled her face and neck, the gentle heaving of the
+bosom, the eye now and then lost in reverie, all betrayed the soft
+tumult that was going on in her little heart. The aunts were continually
+hovering around her; for maiden aunts are apt to take great interest in
+affairs of this nature. They were giving her a world of staid counsel
+how to deport herself, what to say, and in what manner to receive the
+expected lover.
+
+The baron was no less busied in preparations. He had, in truth, nothing
+exactly to do; but he was naturally a fuming bustling little man, and
+could not remain passive when all the world was in a hurry. He worried
+from top to bottom of the castle with an air of infinite anxiety; he
+continually called the servants from their work to exhort them to be
+diligent; and buzzed about every hall and chamber, as idly restless and
+importunate as a blue-bottle fly on a warm summer's day.
+
+In the meantime the fatted calf had been killed; the forests had rung
+with the clamor of the huntsmen; the kitchen was crowded with good
+cheer; the cellars had yielded up whole oceans of _Rheinwein_ and
+_Fernewein_; and even the great Heidelberg tun had been laid under
+contribution. Everything was ready to receive the distinguished guest
+with _Saus und Braus_ in the true spirit of German hospitality--but the
+guest delayed to make his appearance. Hour rolled after hour. The sun,
+that had poured his downward rays upon the rich forest of the Odenwald,
+now just gleamed along the summits of the mountains. The baron mounted
+the highest tower, and strained his eyes in hope of catching a distant
+sight of the count and his attendants. Once he thought he beheld them;
+the sounds of horns came floating from the valley, prolonged by the
+mountain echoes. A number of horsemen were seen far below, slowly
+advancing along the road; but when they had nearly reached the foot of
+the mountain, they suddenly struck off in a different direction. The
+last ray of sunshine departed--the bats began to flit by in the
+twilight--the road grew dimmer and dimmer to the view; and nothing
+appeared stirring in it but now and then a peasant lagging homeward
+from his labor.
+
+While the old castle at Landshort was in this state of perplexity, a
+very interesting scene was transacting in a different part of the
+Odenwald.
+
+The young Count Von Altenburg was tranquilly pursuing his route in that
+sober jog-trot way in which a man travels toward matrimony when his
+friends have taken all the trouble and uncertainty of courtship off his
+hands, and a bride is waiting for him, as certainly as a dinner at the
+end of his journey. He had encountered at Wurtzburg a youthful companion
+in arms with whom he had seen some service on the frontiers: Herman Von
+Starkenfaust, one of the stoutest hands and worthiest hearts of German
+chivalry, who was now returning from the army. His father's castle was
+not far distant from the old fortress of Landshort, although an
+hereditary feud rendered the families hostile, and strangers to each
+other.
+
+In the warm-hearted moment of recognition, the young friends related all
+their past adventures and fortunes, and the count gave the whole history
+of his intended nuptials with a young lady whom he had never seen, but
+of whose charms he had received the most enrapturing descriptions.
+
+As the route of the friends lay in the same direction, they agreed to
+perform the rest of their journey together; and, that they might do it
+the more leisurely, set off from Wurtzburg at an early hour, the count
+having given directions for his retinue to follow and overtake him.
+
+They beguiled their wayfaring with recollections of their military
+scenes and adventures; but the count was apt to be a little tedious, now
+and then, about the reputed charms of his bride and the felicity that
+awaited him.
+
+In this way they had entered among the mountains of the Odenwald, and
+were traversing one of its most lonely and thickly wooded passes. It is
+well known that the forests of Germany have always been as much infested
+by robbers as its castles by specters; and at this time the former were
+particularly numerous, from the hordes of disbanded soldiers wandering
+about the country. It will not appear extraordinary, therefore, that the
+cavaliers were attacked by a gang of these stragglers, in the midst of
+the forest. They defended themselves with bravery, but were nearly
+overpowered, when the count's retinue arrived to their assistance. At
+sight of them the robbers fled, but not until the count had received a
+mortal wound. He was slowly and carefully conveyed back to the city of
+Wurtzburg, and a friar summoned from a neighboring convent who was
+famous for his skill in administering to both soul and body; but half of
+his skill was superfluous; the moments of the unfortunate count were
+numbered.
+
+With his dying breath he entreated his friend to repair instantly to the
+castle of Landshort, and explain the fatal cause of his not keeping his
+appointment with his bride. Though not the most ardent of lovers, he
+was one of the most punctilious of men, and appeared earnestly
+solicitous that his mission should be speedily and courteously executed.
+"Unless this is done," said he, "I shall not sleep quietly in my grave!"
+He repeated these last words with peculiar solemnity. A request, at a
+moment so impressive, admitted no hesitation. Starkenfaust endeavored to
+soothe him to calmness; promised faithfully to execute his wish, and
+gave him his hand in solemn pledge. The dying man pressed it in
+acknowledgment, but soon lapsed into delirium--raved about his
+bride--his engagements--his plighted word; ordered his horse, that he
+might ride to the castle of Landshort; and expired in the fancied act of
+vaulting into the saddle.
+
+Starkenfaust bestowed a sigh and a soldier's tear on the untimely fate
+of his comrade, and then pondered on the awkward mission he had
+undertaken. His heart was heavy, and his head perplexed; for he was to
+present himself an unbidden guest among hostile people, and to damp
+their festivity with tidings fatal to their hopes. Still, there were
+certain whisperings of curiosity in his bosom to see this far-famed
+beauty of Katzenellenbogen, so cautiously shut up from the world; for he
+was a passionate admirer of the sex, and there was a dash of
+eccentricity and enterprise in his character that made him fond of all
+singular adventure.
+
+Previous to his departure he made all due arrangements with the holy
+fraternity of the convent for the funeral solemnities of his friend, who
+was to be buried in the cathedral of Wurtzburg near some of his
+illustrious relatives; and the mourning retinue of the count took charge
+of his remains.
+
+It is now high time that we should return to the ancient family of
+Katzenellenbogen, who were impatient for their guest, and still more for
+their dinner; and to the worthy little baron, whom we left airing
+himself on the watch-tower.
+
+Night closed in, but still no guest arrived. The baron descended from
+the tower in despair. The banquet, which had been delayed from hour to
+hour, could no longer be postponed. The meats were already overdone; the
+cook in an agony; and the whole household had the look of a garrison
+that had been reduced by famine. The baron was obliged reluctantly to
+give orders for the feast without the presence of the guest. All were
+seated at table, and just on the point of commencing, when the sound of
+a horn from without the gate gave notice of the approach of a stranger.
+Another long blast filled the old courts of the castle with its echoes,
+and was answered by the warder from the walls. The baron hastened to
+receive his future son-in-law.
+
+The drawbridge had been let down, and the stranger was before the gate.
+He was a tall, gallant cavalier mounted on a black steed. His
+countenance was pale, but he had a beaming, romantic eye, and an air of
+stately melancholy.
+
+The baron was a little mortified that he should have come in this
+simple, solitary style. His dignity for a moment was ruffled, and he
+felt disposed to consider it a want of proper respect for the important
+occasion, and the important family with which he was to be connected. He
+pacified himself, however, with the conclusion, that it must have been
+youthful impatience which had induced him thus to spur on sooner than
+his attendants.
+
+"I am sorry," said the stranger, "to break in upon you thus
+unseasonably----"
+
+Here the baron interrupted with a world of compliments and greetings;
+for, to tell the truth, he prided himself upon his courtesy and
+eloquence.
+
+The stranger attempted, once or twice, to stem the torrent of words, but
+in vain, so he bowed his head and suffered it to flow on. By the time
+the baron had come to a pause, they had reached the inner court of the
+castle; and the stranger was again about to speak, when he was once more
+interrupted by the appearance of the female part of the family leading
+forth the shrinking and blushing bride. He gazed on her for a moment as
+one entranced; it seemed as if his whole soul beamed forth in the gaze,
+and rested upon that lovely form. One of the maiden aunts whispered
+something in her ear; she made an effort to speak; her moist blue eye
+was timidly raised; gave a shy glance of inquiry on the stranger; and
+was cast again to the ground. The words died away; but there was a
+sweet smile playing about her lips, and a soft dimpling of the cheek
+that showed her glance had not been unsatisfactory. It was impossible
+for a girl of the fond age of eighteen, highly predisposed for love and
+matrimony, not to be pleased with so gallant a cavalier.
+
+The late hour at which the guest had arrived left no time for parley.
+The baron was peremptory, and deferred all particular conversation until
+the morning, and led the way to the untasted banquet.
+
+It was served up in the great hall of the castle. Around the walls hung
+the hard-favored portraits of the heroes of the house of
+Katzenellenbogen, and the trophies which they had gained in the field
+and in the chase. Hacked corselets, splintered jousting spears, and
+tattered banners were mingled with the spoils of sylvan warfare; the
+jaws of the wolf and the tusks of the boar grinned horribly among
+cross-bows and battle-axes, and a huge pair of antlers branched
+immediately over the head of the youthful bridegroom.
+
+The cavalier took but little notice of the company or the entertainment.
+He scarcely tasted the banquet, but seemed absorbed in admiration of his
+bride. He conversed in a low tone that could not be overheard--for the
+language of love is never loud; but where is the female ear so dull that
+it cannot catch the softest whisper of the lover? There was a mingled
+tenderness and gravity in his manner, that appeared to have a powerful
+effect upon the young lady. Her color came and went as she listened with
+deep attention. Now and then she made some blushing reply, and when his
+eye was turned away, she would steal a sidelong glance at his romantic
+countenance and heave a gentle sigh of tender happiness. It was evident
+that the young couple were completely enamored. The aunts, who were
+deeply versed in the mysteries of the heart, declared that they had
+fallen in love with each other at first sight.
+
+The feast went on merrily, or at least noisily, for the guests were all
+blessed with those keen appetites that attend upon light purses and
+mountain air. The baron told his best and longest stories, and never had
+he told them so well, or with such great effect. If there was anything
+marvelous, his auditors were lost in astonishment; and if anything
+facetious, they were sure to laugh exactly in the right place. The
+baron, it is true, like most great men, was too dignified to utter any
+joke but a dull one; it was always enforced, however, by a bumper of
+excellent Hockheimer; and even a dull joke, at one's own table, served
+up with jolly old wine, is irresistible. Many good things were said by
+poorer and keener wits that would not bear repeating, except on similar
+occasions; many sly speeches whispered in ladies' ears, that almost
+convulsed them with suppressed laughter; and a song or two roared out by
+a poor, but merry and broad-faced cousin of the baron that absolutely
+made the maiden aunts hold up their fans.
+
+Amidst all this revelry, the stranger guest maintained a most singular
+and unseasonable gravity. His countenance assumed a deeper cast of
+dejection as the evening advanced; and, strange as it may appear, even
+the baron's jokes seemed only to render him the more melancholy. At
+times he was lost in thought, and at times there was a perturbed and
+restless wandering of the eye that bespoke a mind but ill at ease. His
+conversations with the bride became more and more earnest and
+mysterious. Lowering clouds began to steal over the fair serenity of her
+brow, and tremors to run through her tender frame.
+
+All this could not escape the notice of the company. Their gayety was
+chilled by the unaccountable gloom of the bridegroom; their spirits were
+infected; whispers and glances were interchanged, accompanied by shrugs
+and dubious shakes of the head. The song and the laugh grew less and
+less frequent; there were dreary pauses in the conversation, which were
+at length succeeded by wild tales and supernatural legends. One dismal
+story produced another still more dismal, and the baron nearly
+frightened some of the ladies into hysterics with the history of the
+goblin horseman that carried away the fair Leonora; a dreadful story
+which has since been put into excellent verse, and is read and believed
+by all the world.
+
+The bridegroom listened to this tale with profound attention. He kept
+his eyes steadily fixed on the baron, and, as the story drew to a close,
+began gradually to rise from his seat, growing taller and taller, until,
+in the baron's entranced eye, he seemed almost to tower into a giant.
+The moment the tale was finished, he heaved a deep sigh and took a
+solemn farewell of the company. They were all amazement. The baron was
+perfectly thunder-struck.
+
+"What! going to leave the castle at midnight? Why, everything was
+prepared for his reception; a chamber was ready for him if he wished to
+retire."
+
+The stranger shook his head mournfully and mysteriously; "I must lay my
+head in a different chamber to-night!"
+
+There was something in this reply, and the tone in which it was uttered,
+that made the baron's heart misgive him; but he rallied his forces and
+repeated his hospitable entreaties.
+
+The stranger shook his head silently, but positively, at every offer;
+and, waving his farewell to the company, stalked slowly out of the hall.
+The maiden aunts were absolutely petrified--the bride hung her head, and
+a tear stole to her eye.
+
+The baron followed the stranger to the great court of the castle, where
+the black charger stood pawing the earth and snorting with impatience.
+When they had reached the portal, whose deep archway was dimly lighted
+by a cresset, the stranger paused, and addressed the baron in a hollow
+tone of voice which the vaulted roof rendered still more sepulchral.
+
+"Now that we are alone," said he, "I will impart to you the reason of my
+going. I have a solemn, an indispensable engagement----"
+
+"Why," said the baron, "cannot you send someone in your place?"
+
+"It admits of no substitute--I must attend it in person--I must away to
+Wurtzburg cathedral----"
+
+"Ay," said the baron, plucking up spirit, "but not until
+to-morrow--to-morrow you shall take your bride there."
+
+"No! no!" replied the stranger, with tenfold solemnity, "my engagement
+is with no bride--the worms! the worms expect me! I am a dead man--I
+have been slain by robbers--my body lies at Wurtzburg--at midnight I am
+to be buried--the grave is waiting for me--I must keep my appointment!"
+
+He sprang on his black charger, dashed over the drawbridge, and the
+clattering of his horses' hoofs was lost in the whistling of the night
+blast.
+
+The baron returned to the hall in the utmost consternation, and related
+what had passed. Two ladies fainted outright, others sickened at the
+idea of having banqueted with a specter. It was the opinion of some,
+that this might be the wild huntsman, famous in German legend. Some
+talked of mountain sprites, of wood-demons, and of other supernatural
+beings, with which the good people of Germany have been so grievously
+harassed since time immemorial. One of the poor relations ventured to
+suggest that it might be some sportive evasion of the young cavalier,
+and that the very gloominess of the caprice seemed to accord with so
+melancholy a personage. This, however, drew on him the indignation of
+the whole company, and especially of the baron, who looked upon him as
+little better than an infidel; so that he was fain to abjure his heresy
+as speedily as possible, and come into the faith of the true believers.
+
+But whatever may have been the doubts entertained, they were completely
+put to an end by the arrival, next day, of regular missives confirming
+the intelligence of the young count's murder, and his interment in
+Wurtzburg cathedral.
+
+The dismay at the castle may well be imagined. The baron shut himself up
+in his chamber. The guests, who had come to rejoice with him, could not
+think of abandoning him in his distress. They wandered about the courts,
+or collected in groups in the hall, shaking their heads and shrugging
+their shoulders at the troubles of so good a man; and sat longer than
+ever at table, and ate and drank more stoutly than ever, by way of
+keeping up their spirits. But the situation of the widowed bride was the
+most pitiable. To have lost a husband before she had even embraced
+him--and such a husband! if the very specter could be so gracious and
+noble, what must have been the living man! She filled the house with
+lamentations.
+
+On the night of the second day of her widowhood, she had retired to her
+chamber, accompanied by one of her aunts who insisted on sleeping with
+her. The aunt, who was one of the best tellers of ghost stories in all
+Germany, had just been recounting one of her longest, and had fallen
+asleep in the very midst of it. The chamber was remote, and overlooked a
+small garden. The niece lay pensively gazing at the beams of the rising
+moon, as they trembled on the leaves of an aspen-tree before the
+lattice. The castle-clock had just tolled midnight, when a soft strain
+of music stole up from the garden. She rose hastily from her bed, and
+stepped lightly to the window. A tall figure stood among the shadows of
+the trees. As it raised its head, a beam of moonlight fell upon the
+countenance. Heaven and earth! she beheld the Specter Bridegroom! A loud
+shriek at that moment burst upon her ear, and her aunt, who had been
+awakened by the music, and had followed her silently to the window, fell
+into her arms. When she looked again, the specter had disappeared.
+
+Of the two females, the aunt now required the most soothing, for she was
+perfectly beside herself with terror. As to the young lady, there was
+something, even in the specter of her lover, that seemed endearing.
+There was still the semblance of manly beauty; and though the shadow of
+a man is but little calculated to satisfy the affections of a love-sick
+girl, yet, where the substance is not to be had, even that is consoling.
+The aunt declared she would never sleep in that chamber again; the
+niece, for once, was refractory, and declared as strongly that she would
+sleep in no other in the castle: the consequence was, that she had to
+sleep in it alone: but she drew a promise from her aunt not to relate
+the story of the specter, lest she should be denied the only melancholy
+pleasure left her on earth--that of inhabiting the chamber over which
+the guardian shade of her lover kept its nightly vigils.
+
+How long the good old lady would have observed this promise is
+uncertain, for she dearly loved to talk of the marvelous, and there is a
+triumph in being the first to tell a frightful story; it is, however,
+still quoted in the neighborhood, as a memorable instance of female
+secrecy, that she kept it to herself for a whole week; when she was
+suddenly absolved from all further restraint, by intelligence, brought
+to the breakfast table one morning, that the young lady was not to be
+found. Her room was empty--the bed had not been slept in--the window was
+open, and the bird had flown!
+
+The astonishment and concern with which the intelligence was received,
+can only be imagined by those who have witnessed the agitation which the
+mishaps of a great man cause among his friends. Even the poor relations
+paused for a moment from the indefatigable labors of the trencher, when
+the aunt, who had at first been struck speechless, wrung her hands, and
+shrieked out, "The goblin! the goblin! She's carried away by the
+goblin!"
+
+In a few words she related the fearful scene of the garden, and
+concluded that the specter must have carried off his bride. Two of the
+domestics corroborated the opinion, for they had heard the clattering of
+a horse's hoofs down the mountain about midnight, and had no doubt that
+it was the specter on his black charger, bearing her away to the tomb.
+All present were struck with the direful probability; for events of the
+kind are extremely common in Germany, as many well-authenticated
+histories bear witness.
+
+What a lamentable situation was that of the poor baron! What a
+heart-rending dilemma for a fond father, and a member of the great
+family of Katzenellenbogen! His only daughter had either been rapt away
+to the grave, or he was to have some wood-demon for a son-in-law, and,
+perchance, a troop of goblin grandchildren. As usual, he was completely
+bewildered and all the castle in an uproar. The men were ordered to take
+horse, and scour every road and path and glen of the Odenwald. The baron
+himself had just drawn on his jack-boots, girded on his sword, and was
+about to mount his steed to sally forth on the doubtful quest, when he
+was brought to a pause by a new apparition. A lady was seen approaching
+the castle, mounted on a palfrey, attended by a cavalier on horseback.
+She galloped up to the gate, sprang from her horse, and falling at the
+baron's feet, embraced his knees. It was his lost daughter, and her
+companion--the Specter Bridegroom! The baron was astounded. He looked at
+his daughter, then at the specter, and almost doubted the evidence of
+his senses. The latter, too, was wonderfully improved in his appearance
+since his visit to the world of spirits. His dress was splendid, and set
+off a noble figure of manly symmetry. He was no longer pale and
+melancholy. His fine countenance was flushed with the glow of youth, and
+joy rioted in his large dark eye.
+
+The mystery was soon cleared up. The cavalier (for in truth, as you must
+have known all the while, he was no goblin) announced himself as Sir
+Herman Von Starkenfaust. He related his adventure with the young count.
+He told how he had hastened to the castle to deliver the unwelcome
+tidings, but that the eloquence of the baron had interrupted him in
+every attempt to tell his tale. How the sight of the bride had
+completely captivated him, and that to pass a few hours near her, he had
+tacitly suffered the mistake to continue. How he had been sorely
+perplexed in what way to make a decent retreat, until the baron's goblin
+stories had suggested his eccentric exit. How, fearing the feudal
+hostility of the family, he had repeated his visits by stealth--had
+haunted the garden beneath the young lady's window--had wooed--had
+won--had borne away in triumph--and, in a word, had wedded the fair.
+
+Under any other circumstances the baron would have been inflexible, for
+he was tenacious of paternal authority, and devoutly obstinate in all
+family feuds; but he loved his daughter; he had lamented her as lost; he
+rejoiced to find her still alive; and, though her husband was of a
+hostile house, yet, thank Heaven, he was not a goblin. There was
+something, it must be acknowledged, that did not exactly accord with his
+notions of strict veracity, in the joke the knight had passed upon him
+of his being a dead man; but several old friends present, who had served
+in the wars, assured him that every stratagem was excusable in love, and
+that the cavalier was entitled to especial privilege, having lately
+served as a trooper.
+
+Matters, therefore, were happily arranged. The baron pardoned the young
+couple on the spot. The revels at the castle were resumed. The poor
+relations overwhelmed this new member of the family with loving
+kindness; he was so gallant, so generous--and so rich. The aunts, it is
+true, were somewhat scandalized that their system of strict seclusion
+and passive obedience should be so badly exemplified, but attributed it
+all to their negligence in not having the windows grated. One of them
+was particularly mortified at having her marvelous story marred, and
+that the only specter she had ever seen should turn out a counterfeit;
+but the niece seemed perfectly happy at having found him substantial
+flesh and blood--and so the story ends.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[2] The erudite reader, well versed in good-for-nothing lore, will
+perceive that the above Tale must have been suggested to the old Swiss
+by a little French anecdote, a circumstance said to have taken place at
+Paris.
+
+[3] _I. e._, CAT'S-ELBOW. The name of a family of those parts very
+powerful in former times. The appellation, we are told, was given in
+compliment to a peerless dame of the family, celebrated for her fine
+arm.
+
+
+
+
+THE SPECTER OF TAPPINGTON
+
+COMPILED BY RICHARD BARHAM
+
+
+
+
+The Specter of Tappington
+
+From _The Ingoldsby Legends_
+
+COMPILED BY RICHARD BARHAM
+
+
+"It is very odd, though; what can have become of them?" said Charles
+Seaforth, as he peeped under the valance of an old-fashioned bedstead,
+in an old-fashioned apartment of a still more old-fashioned manor-house;
+"'tis confoundedly odd, and I can't make it out at all. Why, Barney,
+where are they?--and where the d----l are you?"
+
+No answer was returned to this appeal; and the lieutenant, who was, in
+the main, a reasonable person--at least as reasonable a person as any
+young gentleman of twenty-two in "the service" can fairly be expected to
+be--cooled when he reflected that his servant could scarcely reply
+extempore to a summons which it was impossible he should hear.
+
+An application to the bell was the considerate result; and the footsteps
+of as tight a lad as ever put pipe-clay to belt sounded along the
+gallery.
+
+"Come in!" said his master. An ineffectual attempt upon the door
+reminded Mr. Seaforth that he had locked himself in. "By Heaven! this
+is the oddest thing of all," said he, as he turned the key and admitted
+Mr. Maguire into his dormitory.
+
+"Barney, where are my pantaloons?"
+
+"Is it the breeches?" asked the valet, casting an inquiring eye round
+the apartment;--"is it the breeches, sir?"
+
+"Yes, what have you done with them?"
+
+"Sure then your honor had them on when you went to bed, and it's
+hereabouts they'll be, I'll be bail"; and Barney lifted a fashionable
+tunic from a cane-backed arm-chair, proceeding in his examination. But
+the search was vain; there was the tunic aforesaid, there was a
+smart-looking kerseymere waistcoat; but the most important article of
+all in a gentleman's wardrobe was still wanting.
+
+"Where _can_ they be?" asked the master, with a strong accent on the
+auxiliary verb.
+
+"Sorrow a know I knows," said the man.
+
+"It _must_ have been the devil, then, after all, who has been here and
+carried them off!" cried Seaforth, staring full into Barney's face.
+
+Mr. Maguire was not devoid of the superstition of his countrymen, still
+he looked as if he did not quite subscribe to the _sequitur_.
+
+His master read incredulity in his countenance. "Why, I tell you,
+Barney, I put them there, on that arm-chair, when I got into bed; and,
+by Heaven! I distinctly saw the ghost of the old fellow they told me
+of, come in at midnight, put on my pantaloons, and walk away with them."
+
+"May be so," was the cautious reply.
+
+"I thought, of course, it was a dream; but then--where the d----l are
+the breeches?"
+
+The question was more easily asked than answered. Barney renewed his
+search, while the lieutenant folded his arms, and, leaning against the
+toilet, sunk into a reverie.
+
+"After all, it must be some trick of my laughter-loving cousins," said
+Seaforth.
+
+"Ah! then, the ladies!" chimed in Mr. Maguire, though the observation
+was not addressed to him; "and will it be Miss Caroline or Miss Fanny,
+that's stole your honor's things?"
+
+"I hardly know what to think of it," pursued the bereaved lieutenant,
+still speaking in soliloquy, with his eye resting dubiously on the
+chamber-door. "I locked myself in, that's certain; and--but there must
+be some other entrance to the room--pooh! I remember--the private
+staircase; how could I be such a fool?" and he crossed the chamber to
+where a low oaken doorcase was dimly visible in a distant corner. He
+paused before it. Nothing now interfered to screen it from observation;
+but it bore tokens of having been at some earlier period concealed by
+tapestry, remains of which yet clothed the walls on either side the
+portal.
+
+"This way they must have come," said Seaforth; "I wish with all my heart
+I had caught them!"
+
+"Och! the kittens!" sighed Mr. Barney Maguire.
+
+But the mystery was yet as far from being solved as before. True, there
+_was_ the "other door"; but then that, too, on examination, was even
+more firmly secured than the one which opened on the gallery--two heavy
+bolts on the inside effectually prevented any _coup de main_ on the
+lieutenant's _bivouac_ from that quarter. He was more puzzled than ever;
+nor did the minutest inspection of the walls and floor throw any light
+upon the subject: one thing only was clear--the breeches were gone! "It
+is _very_ singular," said the lieutenant.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Tappington (generally called Tapton) Everard is an antiquated but
+commodious manor-house in the eastern division of the county of Kent. A
+former proprietor had been high-sheriff in the days of Elizabeth, and
+many a dark and dismal tradition was yet extant of the licentiousness of
+his life, and the enormity of his offenses. The Glen, which the keeper's
+daughter was seen to enter, but never known to quit, still frowns darkly
+as of yore; while an ineradicable blood-stain on the oaken stair yet
+bids defiance to the united energies of soap and sand. But it is with
+one particular apartment that a deed of more especial atrocity is said
+to be connected. A stranger guest--so runs the legend--arrived
+unexpectedly at the mansion of the "Bad Sir Giles." They met in
+apparent friendship; but the ill-concealed scowl on their master's brow
+told the domestics that the visit was not a welcome one; the banquet,
+however, was not spared; the wine-cup circulated freely--too freely,
+perhaps--for sounds of discord at length reached the ears of even the
+excluded serving-men, as they were doing their best to imitate their
+betters in the lower hall. Alarmed, some of them ventured to approach
+the parlor, one, an old and favored retainer of the house, went so far
+as to break in upon his master's privacy. Sir Giles, already high in
+oath, fiercely enjoined his absence, and he retired; not, however,
+before he had distinctly heard from the stranger's lips a menace that
+"there was that within his pocket which could disprove the knight's
+right to issue that or any other command within the walls of Tapton."
+
+The intrusion, though momentary, seemed to have produced a beneficial
+effect; the voices of the disputants fell, and the conversation was
+carried on thenceforth in a more subdued tone, till, as evening closed
+in, the domestics, when summoned to attend with lights, found not only
+cordiality restored, but that a still deeper carouse was meditated.
+Fresh stoups, and from the choicest bins, were produced; nor was it till
+at a late, or rather early hour, that the revelers sought their
+chambers.
+
+The one allotted to the stranger occupied the first floor of the
+eastern angle of the building, and had once been the favorite apartment
+of Sir Giles himself. Scandal ascribed this preference to the facility
+which a private staircase, communicating with the grounds, had afforded
+him, in the old knight's time, of following his wicked courses unchecked
+by parental observation; a consideration which ceased to be of weight
+when the death of his father left him uncontrolled master of his estate
+and actions. From that period Sir Giles had established himself in what
+were called the "state apartments," and the "oaken chamber" was rarely
+tenanted, save on occasions of extraordinary festivity, or when the yule
+log drew an unusually large accession of guests around the Christmas
+hearth.
+
+On this eventful night it was prepared for the unknown visitor, who
+sought his couch heated and inflamed from his midnight orgies, and in
+the morning was found in his bed a swollen and blackened corpse. No
+marks of violence appeared upon the body; but the livid hue of the lips,
+and certain dark-colored spots visible on the skin, aroused suspicions
+which those who entertained them were too timid to express. Apoplexy,
+induced by the excesses of the preceding night, Sir Giles's confidential
+leech pronounced to be the cause of his sudden dissolution. The body was
+buried in peace; and though some shook their heads as they witnessed the
+haste with which the funeral rites were hurried on, none ventured to
+murmur. Other events arose to distract the attention of the retainers;
+men's minds became occupied by the stirring politics of the day; while
+the near approach of that formidable armada, so vainly arrogating itself
+a title which the very elements joined with human valor to disprove,
+soon interfered to weaken, if not obliterate, all remembrance of the
+nameless stranger who had died within the walls of Tapton Everard.
+
+Years rolled on: the "Bad Sir Giles" had himself long since gone to his
+account, the last, as it was believed, of his immediate line; though a
+few of the older tenants were sometimes heard to speak of an elder
+brother, who had disappeared in early life, and never inherited the
+estate. Rumors, too, of his having left a son in foreign lands, were at
+one time rife; but they died away, nothing occurring to support them:
+the property passed unchallenged to a collateral branch of the family,
+and the secret, if secret there were, was buried in Denton churchyard,
+in the lonely grave of the mysterious stranger. One circumstance alone
+occurred, after a long-intervening period, to revive the memory of these
+transactions. Some workmen employed in grubbing an old plantation, for
+the purpose of raising on its site a modern shrubbery, dug up, in the
+execution of their task, the mildewed remnants of what seemed to have
+been once a garment. On more minute inspection, enough remained of
+silken slashes and a coarse embroidery, to identify the relics as having
+once formed part of a pair of trunk hose; while a few papers which fell
+from them, altogether illegible from damp and age, were by the unlearned
+rustics conveyed to the then owner of the estate.
+
+Whether the squire was more successful in deciphering them was never
+known; he certainly never alluded to their contents; and little would
+have been thought of the matter but for the inconvenient memory of one
+old woman, who declared she heard her grandfather say, that when the
+"strange guest" was poisoned, though all the rest of his clothes were
+there, his breeches, the supposed repository of the supposed documents,
+could never be found. The master of Tapton Everard smiled when he heard
+Dame Jones's hint of deeds which might impeach the validity of his own
+title in favor of some unknown descendant of some unknown heir; and the
+story was rarely alluded to, save by one or two miracle-mongers, who had
+heard that others had seen the ghost of old Sir Giles, in his night-cap,
+issue from the postern, enter the adjoining copse, and wring his shadowy
+hands in agony, as he seemed to search vainly for something hidden among
+the evergreens. The stranger's death-room had, of course, been
+occasionally haunted from the time of his decease; but the periods of
+visitation had latterly become very rare--even Mrs. Botherby, the
+housekeeper, being forced to admit that, during her long sojourn at the
+manor, she had never "met with anything worse than herself"; though, as
+the old lady afterwards added upon more mature reflection, "I must say I
+think I saw the devil _once_."
+
+Such was the legend attached to Tapton Everard, and such the story which
+the lively Caroline Ingoldsby detailed to her equally mercurial cousin,
+Charles Seaforth, lieutenant in the Hon. East India Company's second
+regiment of Bombay Fencibles, as arm-in-arm they promenaded a gallery
+decked with some dozen grim-looking ancestral portraits, and, among
+others, with that of the redoubted Sir Giles himself. The gallant
+commander had that very morning paid his first visit to the house of his
+maternal uncle, after an absence of several years passed with his
+regiment on the arid plains of Hindostan, whence he was now returned on
+a three years' furlough. He had gone out a boy--he returned a man; but
+the impression made upon his youthful fancy by his favorite cousin
+remained unimpaired, and to Tapton he directed his steps, even before he
+sought the home of his widowed mother--comforting himself in this breach
+of filial decorum by the reflection that, as the manor was so little out
+of his way, it would be unkind to pass, as it were, the door of his
+relatives, without just looking in for a few hours.
+
+But he found his uncle as hospitable, and his cousin more charming than
+ever; and the looks of one, and the requests of the other, soon
+precluded the possibility of refusing to lengthen the "few hours" into
+a few days, though the house was at the moment full of visitors.
+
+The Peterses were from Ramsgate; and Mr., Mrs., and the two Miss
+Simpkinsons, from Bath, had come to pass a month with the family; and
+Tom Ingoldsby had brought down his college friend the Honorable Augustus
+Sucklethumbkin, with his groom and pointers, to take a fortnight's
+shooting. And then there was Mrs. Ogleton, the rich young widow, with
+her large black eyes, who, people did say, was setting her cap at the
+young squire, though Mrs. Botherby did not believe it; and, above all,
+there was Mademoiselle Pauline, her _femme de chambre_, who
+"_mon-Dieu'd_" everything and everybody, and cried "_Quel horreur!_" at
+Mrs. Botherby's cap. In short, to use the last-named and much-respected
+lady's own expression, the house was "choke-full" to the very
+attics--all save the "oaken chamber," which, as the lieutenant expressed
+a most magnanimous disregard of ghosts, was forthwith appropriated to
+his particular accommodation. Mr. Maguire meanwhile was fain to share
+the apartment of Oliver Dobbs, the squire's own man; a jocular proposal
+of joint occupancy having been first indignantly rejected by
+"Mademoiselle," though preferred with the "laste taste in life" of Mr.
+Barney's most insinuating brogue.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Come, Charles, the urn is absolutely getting cold; your breakfast will
+be quite spoiled: what can have made you so idle?" Such was the morning
+salutation of Miss Ingoldsby to the _militaire_ as he entered the
+breakfast-room half an hour after the latest of the party.
+
+"A pretty gentleman, truly, to make an appointment with," chimed in Miss
+Frances. "What is become of our ramble to the rocks before breakfast?"
+
+"Oh! the young men never think of keeping a promise now," said Mrs.
+Peters, a little ferret-faced woman with underdone eyes.
+
+"When I was a young man," said Mr. Peters, "I remember I always made a
+point of----"
+
+"Pray, how long ago was that?" asked Mr. Simpkinson from Bath.
+
+"Why, sir, when I married Mrs. Peters, I was--let me see--I was----"
+
+"Do pray hold your tongue, P., and eat your breakfast!" interrupted his
+better half, who had a mortal horror of chronological references; "it's
+very rude to tease people with your family affairs."
+
+The lieutenant had by this time taken his seat in silence--a
+good-humored nod, and a glance, half-smiling, half-inquisitive, being
+the extent of his salutation. Smitten as he was, and in the immediate
+presence of her who had made so large a hole in his heart, his manner
+was evidently _distrait_, which the fair Caroline in her secret soul
+attributed to his being solely occupied by her _agrèmens_: how would she
+have bridled had she known that they only shared his meditations with a
+pair of breeches!
+
+Charles drank his coffee and spiked some half-dozen eggs, darting
+occasionally a penetrating glance at the ladies, in hope of detecting
+the supposed waggery by the evidence of some furtive smile or conscious
+look. But in vain; not a dimple moved indicative of roguery, nor did the
+slightest elevation of eyebrow rise confirmative of his suspicions.
+Hints and insinuations passed unheeded--more particular inquiries were
+out of the question--the subject was unapproachable.
+
+In the meantime, "patent cords" were just the thing for a morning's
+ride; and, breakfast ended, away cantered the party over the downs,
+till, every faculty absorbed by the beauties, animate and inanimate,
+which surrounded him. Lieutenant Seaforth of the Bombay Fencibles
+bestowed no more thought upon his breeches than if he had been born on
+the top of Ben Lomond.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Another night had passed away; the sun rose brilliantly, forming with
+his level beams a splendid rainbow in the far-off west, whither the
+heavy cloud, which for the last two hours had been pouring its waters on
+the earth, was now flying before him.
+
+"Ah! then, and it's little good it'll be the claning of ye,"
+apostrophized Mr. Barney Maguire, as he deposited, in front of his
+master's toilet, a pair of "bran new" jockey boots, one of Hoby's
+primest fits, which the lieutenant had purchased in his way through
+town. On that very morning had they come for the first time under the
+valet's depurating hand, so little soiled, indeed, from the turfy ride
+of the preceding day, that a less scrupulous domestic might, perhaps,
+have considered the application of "Warren's Matchless," or oxalic acid,
+altogether superfluous. Not so Barney: with the nicest care had he
+removed the slightest impurity from each polished surface, and there
+they stood, rejoicing in their sable radiance. No wonder a pang shot
+across Mr. Maguire's breast as he thought on the work now cut out for
+them, so different from the light labors of the day before; no wonder he
+murmured with a sigh, as the scarce dried window-panes disclosed a road
+now inch deep in mud! "Ah! then, it's little good claning of ye!"--for
+well had he learned in the hall below that eight miles of a stiff clay
+soil lay between the manor and Bolsover Abbey, whose picturesque ruins,
+
+    "Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay,"
+
+the party had determined to explore. The master had already commenced
+dressing, and the man was fitting straps upon a light pair of
+crane-necked spurs, when his hand was arrested by the old
+question--"Barney, where are the breeches?"
+
+They were nowhere to be found!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Seaforth descended that morning, whip in hand, and equipped in a
+handsome green riding-frock, but no "breeches and boots to match" were
+there: loose jean trousers, surmounting a pair of diminutive
+Wellingtons, embraced, somewhat incongruously, his nether man, _vice_
+the "patent cords," returned, like yesterday's pantaloons, absent
+without leave. The "top-boots" had a holiday.
+
+"A fine morning after the rain," said Mr. Simpkinson from Bath.
+
+"Just the thing for the 'ops," said Mr. Peters. "I remember when I was a
+boy----"
+
+"Do hold your tongue, P.," said Mrs. Peters--advice which that exemplary
+matron was in the constant habit of administering to "her P." as she
+called him, whenever he prepared to vent his reminiscences. Her precise
+reason for this it would be difficult to determine, unless, indeed, the
+story be true which a little bird had whispered into Mrs. Botherby's
+ear--Mr. Peters, though now a wealthy man had received a liberal
+education at a charity school, and was apt to recur to the days of his
+muffin-cap and leathers. As usual, he took his wife's hint in good part,
+and "paused in his reply."
+
+"A glorious day for the ruins!" said young Ingoldsby. "But Charles, what
+the deuce are you about? you don't mean to ride through our lanes in
+such toggery as that?"
+
+"Lassy me!" said Miss Julia Simpkinson, "won't yo' be very wet?"
+
+"You had better take Tom's cab," quoth the squire.
+
+But this proposition was at once over-ruled; Mrs. Ogleton had already
+nailed the cab, a vehicle of all others the best adapted for a snug
+flirtation.
+
+"Or drive Miss Julia in the phaeton?" No; that was the post of Mr.
+Peters, who, indifferent as an equestrian, had acquired some fame as a
+whip while traveling through the midland counties for the firm of
+Bagshaw, Snivelby, and Ghrimes.
+
+"Thank you, I shall ride with my cousins," said Charles, with as much
+_nonchalance_ as he could assume--and he did so; Mr. Ingoldsby, Mrs.
+Peters, Mr. Simpkinson from Bath, and his eldest daughter with her
+_album_, following in the family coach. The gentleman-commoner "voted
+the affair d----d slow," and declined the party altogether in favor of
+the gamekeeper and a cigar. "There was 'no fun' in looking at old
+houses!" Mrs. Simpkinson preferred a short _séjour_ in the still-room
+with Mrs. Botherby, who had promised to initiate her in that grand
+_arcanum_, the transmutation of gooseberry jam into Guava jelly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Did you ever see an old abbey before, Mrs. Peters?"
+
+"Yes, miss, a French one; we have got one at Ramsgate; he teaches the
+Miss Joneses to parley-voo and is turned of sixty."
+
+Miss Simpkinson closed her album with an air of ineffable disdain.
+
+Mr. Simpkinson from Bath was a professed antiquary, and one of the
+first water; he was master of Gwillim's Heraldry, and Mill's History of
+the Crusades; knew every plate in the Monasticon; had written an essay
+on the origin and dignity of the office of overseer, and settled the
+date on a Queen Anne's farthing. An influential member of the
+Antiquarian Society, to whose "Beauties of Bagnigge Wells" he had been a
+liberal subscriber, procured him a seat at the board of that learned
+body, since which happy epoch Sylvanus Urban had not a more
+indefatigable correspondent. His inaugural essay on the President's
+cocked hat was considered a miracle of erudition; and his account of the
+earliest application of gilding to gingerbread, a masterpiece of
+antiquarian research. His eldest daughter was of a kindred spirit: if
+her father's mantle had not fallen upon her, it was only because he had
+not thrown it off himself; she had caught hold of its tail, however,
+while it yet hung upon his honored shoulders. To souls so congenial,
+what a sight was the magnificent ruin of Bolsover! its broken arches,
+its mouldering pinnacles, and the airy tracery of its half-demolished
+windows. The party were in raptures; Mr. Simpkinson began to meditate an
+essay, and his daughter an ode: even Seaforth, as he gazed on these
+lonely relics of the olden time, was betrayed into a momentary
+forgetfulness of his love and losses; the widow's eye-glass turned from
+her _cicisbeo's_ whiskers to the mantling ivy; Mrs. Peters wiped her
+spectacles; and "her P." supposed the central tower "had once been the
+county jail." The squire was a philosopher, and had been there often
+before, so he ordered out the cold tongue and chickens.
+
+"Bolsover Priory," said Mr. Simpkinson, with the air of a
+connoisseur--"Bolsover Priory was founded in the reign of Henry the
+Sixth, about the beginning of the eleventh century. Hugh de Bolsover had
+accompanied that monarch to the Holy Land, in the expedition undertaken
+by way of penance for the murder of his young nephews in the Tower. Upon
+the dissolution of the monasteries, the veteran was enfeoffed in the
+lands and manor, to which he gave his own name of Bowlsover, or
+Bee-owls-over (by corruption Bolsover)--a Bee in chief, over three Owls,
+all proper, being the armorial ensigns borne by this distinguished
+crusader at the siege of Acre."
+
+"Ah! that was Sir Sidney Smith," said Mr. Peters; "I've heard tell of
+him, and all about Mrs. Partington, and----"
+
+"P. be quiet, and don't expose yourself!" sharply interrupted his lady.
+P. was silenced, and betook himself to the bottled stout.
+
+"These lands," continued the antiquary, "were held in grand serjeantry
+by the presentation of three white owls and pot of honey----"
+
+"Lassy me! how nice!" said Miss Julia. Mr. Peters licked his lips.
+
+"Pray give me leave, my dear--owls and honey, whenever the king should
+come a rat-catching into this part of the country."
+
+"Rat-catching!" ejaculated the squire, pausing abruptly in the
+mastication of a drumstick.
+
+"To be sure, my dear sir; don't you remember the rats came under the
+forest laws--a minor species of venison? 'Rats and mice, and such small
+deer,' eh?--Shakespeare, you know. Our ancestors ate rats ('The nasty
+fellows!' shuddered Miss Julia, in a parenthesis); and owls, you know,
+are capital mousers----"
+
+"I've seen a howl," said Mr. Peters; "there's one in the Sohological
+Gardens--a little hook-nosed chap in a wig--only its feathers and----"
+
+Poor P. was destined never to finish a speech.
+
+"_Do_ be quiet!" cried the authoritative voice; and the would-be
+naturalist shrank into his shell, like a snail in the "Sohological
+Gardens."
+
+"You should read Blount's _Jocular Tenures_, Mr. Ingoldsby," pursued
+Simpkinson. "A learned man was Blount! Why, sir, His Royal Highness the
+Duke of York once paid a silver horse-shoe to Lord Ferrers----"
+
+"I've heard of him," broke in the incorrigible Peters; "he was hanged at
+the Old Bailey in a silk rope for shooting Dr. Johnson."
+
+The antiquary vouchsafed no notice of the interruption; but, taking a
+pinch of snuff, continued his harangue.
+
+"A silver horse-shoe, sir, which is due from every scion of royalty who
+rides across one of his manors; and if you look into the penny county
+histories, now publishing by an eminent friend of mine, you will find
+that Langhale in Co. Norf. was held by one Baldwin _per saltum,
+sufflatum, et pettum_; that is, he was to come every Christmas into
+Westminster Hall, there to take a leap, cry hem! and----"
+
+"Mr. Simpkinson, a glass of sherry?" cried Tom Ingoldsby, hastily.
+
+"Not any, thank you, sir. This Baldwin, surnamed _Le----_"
+
+"Mrs. Ogleton challenges you, sir; she insists upon it," said Tom still
+more rapidly, at the same time filling a glass, and forcing it on the
+_sçavant_, who, thus arrested in the very crisis of his narrative,
+received and swallowed the potation as if it had been physic.
+
+"What on earth has Miss Simpkinson discovered there?" continued Tom;
+"something of interest. See how fast she is writing."
+
+The diversion was effectual; every one looked towards Miss Simpkinson,
+who, far too ethereal for "creature comforts," was seated apart on the
+dilapidated remains of an altar-tomb, committing eagerly to paper
+something that had strongly impressed her; the air--the eye in a "fine
+frenzy rolling"--all betokened that the divine _afflarus_ was come. Her
+father rose, and stole silently towards her.
+
+"What an old boar!" muttered young Ingoldsby; alluding, perhaps, to a
+slice of brawn which he had just begun to operate upon, but which, from
+the celerity with which it disappeared, did not seem so very difficult
+of mastication.
+
+But what had become of Seaforth and his fair Caroline all this while?
+Why, it so happened that they had been simultaneously stricken with the
+picturesque appearance of one of those high and pointed arches, which
+that eminent antiquary, Mr. Horseley Curties, has described in his
+_Ancient Records_, as "a _Gothic_ window of the _Saxon_ order"; and then
+the ivy clustered so thickly and so beautifully on the other side, that
+they went round to look at that; and then their proximity deprived it of
+half its effect, and so they walked across to a little knoll, a hundred
+yards off, and in crossing a small ravine, they came to what in Ireland
+they call "a bad step," and Charles had to carry his cousin over it; and
+then when they had to come back, she would not give him the trouble
+again for the world, so they followed a better but more circuitous
+route, and there were hedges and ditches in the way, and stiles to get
+over and gates to get through, so that an hour or more had elapsed
+before they were able to rejoin the party.
+
+"Lassy me!" said Miss Julia Simpkinson, "how long you have been gone!"
+
+And so they had. The remark was a very just as well as a very natural
+one. They were gone a long while, and a nice cosy chat they had; and
+what do you think it was all about, my dear miss?
+
+"O lassy me! love, no doubt, and the moon, and eyes, and nightingales,
+and----"
+
+Stay, stay, my sweet young lady; do not let the fervor of your feelings
+run away with you! I do not pretend to say, indeed, that one or more of
+these pretty subjects might not have been introduced; but the most
+important and leading topic of the conference was--Lieutenant Seaforth's
+breeches.
+
+"Caroline," said Charles, "I have had some very odd dreams since I have
+been at Tappington."
+
+"Dreams, have you?" smiled the young lady, arching her taper neck like a
+swan in pluming. "Dreams, have you?"
+
+"Ah, dreams--or dream, perhaps, I should say; for, though repeated, it
+was still the same. And what do you imagine was its subject?"
+
+"It is impossible for me to divine," said the tongue; "I have not the
+least difficulty in guessing," said the eye, as plainly as ever eye
+spoke.
+
+"I dreamt--of your great-grandfather!"
+
+There was a change in the glance--"My great-grandfather?"
+
+"Yes, the old Sir Giles, or Sir John, you told me about the other day:
+he walked into my bedroom in his short cloak of murrey-colored velvet,
+his long rapier, and his Raleigh-looking hat and feather, just as the
+picture represents him; but with one exception."
+
+"And what was that?"
+
+"Why, his lower extremities, which were visible, were those of a
+skeleton."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, after taking a turn or two about the room, and looking round him
+with a wistful air, he came to the bed's foot, stared at me in a manner
+impossible to describe--and then he--he laid hold of my pantaloons;
+whipped his long bony legs into them in a twinkling; and strutting up to
+the glass, seemed to view himself in it with great complacency. I tried
+to speak, but in vain. The effort, however, seemed to excite his
+attention; for, wheeling about, he showed me the grimmest-looking
+death's head you can well imagine, and with an indescribable grin
+strutted out of the room."
+
+"Absurd! Charles. How can you talk such nonsense?"
+
+"But, Caroline--the breeches are really gone."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the following morning, contrary to his usual custom, Seaforth was the
+first person in the breakfast parlor. As no one else was present, he did
+precisely what nine young men out of ten so situated would have done; he
+walked up to the mantelpiece, established himself upon the rug, and
+subducting his coat-tails one under each arm, turned towards the fire
+that portion of the human frame which it is considered equally
+indecorous to present to a friend or an enemy. A serious, not to say
+anxious, expression was visible upon his good-humored countenance, and
+his mouth was fast buttoning itself up for an incipient whistle, when
+little Flo, a tiny spaniel of the Blenheim breed--the pet object of Miss
+Julia Simpkinson's affections--bounced out from beneath a sofa, and
+began to bark at--his pantaloons.
+
+They were cleverly "built," of a light-grey mixture, a broad stripe of
+the most vivid scarlet traversing each seam in a perpendicular direction
+from hip to ankle--in short, the regimental costume of the Royal Bombay
+Fencibles. The animal, educated in the country, had never seen such a
+pair of breeches in her life--_Omne ignotum pro magnifico!_ The scarlet
+streak, inflamed as it was by the reflection of the fire, seemed to act
+on Flora's nerves as the same color does on those of bulls and turkeys;
+she advanced at the _pas de charge_, and her vociferation, like her
+amazement, was unbounded. A sound kick from the disgusted officer
+changed its character, and induced a retreat at the very moment when the
+mistress of the pugnacious quadruped entered to the rescue.
+
+"Lassy me! Flo, what _is_ the matter?" cried the sympathizing lady, with
+a scrutinizing glance leveled at the gentleman.
+
+It might as well have lighted on a feather bed. His air of imperturbable
+unconsciousness defied examination; and as he would not, and Flora could
+not, expound, that injured individual was compelled to pocket up her
+wrongs. Others of the household soon dropped in, and clustered round the
+board dedicated to the most sociable of meals; the urn was paraded
+"hissing hot," and the cups which "cheer, but not inebriate," steamed
+redolent of hyson and pekoe; muffins and marmalade, newspapers, and
+Finnan haddies, left little room for observation on the character of
+Charles's warlike "turn-out." At length a look from Caroline, followed
+by a smile that nearly ripened to a titter, caused him to turn abruptly
+and address his neighbor. It was Miss Simpkinson, who, deeply engaged in
+sipping her tea and turning over her album, seemed, like a female
+Chrononotonthologos, "immersed in cogibundity of cogitation." An
+interrogatory on the subject of her studies drew from her the confession
+that she was at that moment employed in putting the finishing touches to
+a poem inspired by the romantic shades of Bolsover. The entreaties of
+the company were of course urgent. Mr. Peters, "who liked verses," was
+especially persevering, and Sappho at length compliant. After a
+preparatory hem! and a glance at the mirror to ascertain that her look
+was sufficiently sentimental, the poetess began:--
+
+    "There is a calm, a holy feeling,
+      Vulgar minds, can never know,
+    O'er the bosom softly stealing,--
+      Chasten'd grief, delicious woe!
+    Oh! how sweet at eve regaining
+      Yon lone tower's sequester'd shade--
+    Sadly mute and uncomplaining----"
+
+"--Yow!--yeough!--yeough!--yow!--yow!" yelled a hapless sufferer from
+beneath the table. It was an unlucky hour for quadrupeds; and if "every
+dog will have his day," he could not have selected a more unpropitious
+one than this. Mrs. Ogleton, too, had a pet--a favorite pug--whose squab
+figure, black muzzle, and tortuosity of tail, that curled like a head of
+celery in a salad-bowl, bespoke his Dutch extraction. Yow! yow! yow!
+continued the brute--a chorus in which Flo instantly joined. Sooth to
+say, pug had more reason to express his dissatisfaction than was given
+him by the muse of Simpkinson; the other only barked for company.
+Scarcely had the poetess got through her first stanza, when Tom
+Ingoldsby, in the enthusiasm of the moment, became so lost in the
+material world, that, in his abstraction, he unwarily laid his hand on
+the cock of the urn. Quivering with emotion, he gave it such an unlucky
+twist, that the full stream of its scalding contents descended on the
+gingerbread hide of the unlucky Cupid. The confusion was complete; the
+whole economy of the table disarranged--the company broke up in most
+admired disorder--and "vulgar minds will never know" anything more of
+Miss Simpkinson's ode till they peruse it in some forthcoming Annual.
+
+Seaforth profited by the confusion to take the delinquent who had caused
+this "stramash" by the arm, and to lead him to the lawn, where he had a
+word or two for his private ear. The conference between the young
+gentlemen was neither brief in its duration nor unimportant in its
+result. The subject was what the lawyers call tripartite, embracing the
+information that Charles Seaforth was over head and ears in love with
+Tom Ingoldsby's sister; secondly, that the lady had referred him to
+"papa" for his sanction; thirdly, and lastly, his nightly visitations
+and consequent bereavement. At the two first times Tom smiled
+suspiciously--at the last he burst out into an absolute "guffaw."
+
+"Steal your breeches! Miss Bailey over again, by Jove," shouted
+Ingoldsby. "But a gentleman, you say--and Sir Giles, too. I am not sure,
+Charles, whether I ought not to call you out for aspersing the honor of
+the family."
+
+"Laugh as you will, Tom--be as incredulous as you please. One fact is
+incontestable--the breeches are gone! Look here--I am reduced to my
+regimentals; and if these go, to-morrow I must borrow of you!"
+
+Rochefoucault says, there is something in the misfortunes of our very
+best friends that does not displease us; assuredly we can, most of us,
+laugh at their petty inconveniences, till called upon to supply them.
+Tom composed his features on the instant, and replied with more gravity,
+as well as with an expletive, which, if my Lord Mayor had been within
+hearing might have cost him five shillings.
+
+"There is something very queer in this, after all. The clothes, you say,
+have positively disappeared. Somebody is playing you a trick; and, ten
+to one, your servant had a hand in it. By the way, I heard something
+yesterday of his kicking up a bobbery in the kitchen, and seeing a
+ghost, or something of that kind, himself. Depend upon it, Barney is in
+the plot."
+
+It now struck the lieutenant at once, that the usually buoyant spirits
+of his attendant had of late been materially sobered down, his loquacity
+obviously circumscribed, and that he, the said lieutenant, had actually
+rung his bell three several times that very morning before he could
+procure his attendance. Mr. Maguire was forthwith summoned, and
+underwent a close examination. The "bobbery" was easily explained. Mr.
+Oliver Dobbs had hinted his disapprobation of a flirtation carrying on
+between the gentleman from Munster and the lady from the Rue St. Honoré.
+Mademoiselle had boxed Mr. Maguire's ears, and Mr. Maguire had pulled
+Mademoiselle upon his knee, and the lady had _not_ cried _Mon Dieu_! And
+Mr. Oliver Dobbs said it was very wrong; and Mrs. Botherby said it was
+"scandalous," and what ought not to be done in any moral kitchen; and
+Mr. Maguire had got hold of the Honorable Augustus Sucklethumbkin's
+powder-flask, and had put large pinches of the best Double Dartford into
+Mr. Dobbs's tobacco-box; and Mr. Dobbs's pipe had exploded, and set fire
+to Mrs. Botherby's Sunday cap; and Mr. Maguire had put it out with the
+slop-basin, "barring the wig"; and then they were all so "cantankerous,"
+that Barney had gone to take a walk in the garden; and then--then Mr.
+Barney had seen a ghost.
+
+"A what? you blockhead!" asked Tom Ingoldsby.
+
+"Sure then, and it's meself will tell your honor the rights of it," said
+the ghost-seer. "Meself and Miss Pauline, sir--or Miss Pauline and
+meself, for the ladies comes first anyhow--we got tired of the
+hobstroppylous scrimmaging among the ould servants, that didn't know a
+joke when they seen one: and we went out to look at the comet--that's
+the rorybory-alehouse, they calls him in this country--and we walked
+upon the lawn--and divil of any alehouse there was there at all; and
+Miss Pauline said it was bekase of the shrubbery maybe, and why wouldn't
+we see it better beyonst the tree? and so we went to the trees, but
+sorrow a comet did meself see there, barring a big ghost instead of it."
+
+"A ghost? And what sort of a ghost, Barney?"
+
+"Och, then, divil a lie I'll tell your honor. A tall ould gentleman he
+was, all in white, with a shovel on the shoulder of him, and a big torch
+in his fist--though what he wanted with that it's meself can't tell, for
+his eyes were like gig-lamps, let alone the moon and the comet, which
+wasn't there at all--and 'Barney,' says he to me--'cause why he knew
+me--'Barney,' says he, 'what is it you're doing with the _colleen_
+there, Barney?'--Divil a word did I say. Miss Pauline screeched, and
+cried murther in French, and ran off with herself; and of course meself
+was in a mighty hurry after the lady, and had no time to stop palavering
+with him any way: so I dispersed at once, and the ghost vanished in a
+flame of fire!"
+
+Mr. Maguire's account was received with avowed incredulity by both
+gentlemen; but Barney stuck to his text with unflinching pertinacity. A
+reference to Mademoiselle was suggested, but abandoned, as neither party
+had a taste for delicate investigations.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Seaforth," said Ingoldsby, after Barney had
+received his dismissal, "that there is a trick here, is evident; and
+Barney's vision may possibly be a part of it. Whether he is most knave
+or fool, you best know. At all events, I will sit up with you to-night,
+and see if I can convert my ancestor into a visiting acquaintance.
+Meanwhile your finger on your lip!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'Twas now the very witching time of night,
+    When churchyards yawn, and graves give up their dead.
+
+Gladly would I grace my tale with decent horror, and therefore I do
+beseech the "gentle reader" to believe, that if all the _succedanea_ to
+this mysterious narrative are not in strict keeping, he will ascribe it
+only to the disgraceful innovations of modern degeneracy upon the sober
+and dignified habits of our ancestors. I can introduce him, it is true,
+into an old and high-roofed chamber, its walls covered in three sides
+with black oak wainscoting, adorned with carvings of fruit and flowers
+long anterior to those of Grinling Gibbons; the fourth side is clothed
+with a curious remnant of dingy tapestry, once elucidatory of some
+Scriptural history, but of _which_ not even Mrs. Botherby could
+determine. Mr. Simpkinson, who had examined it carefully, inclined to
+believe the principal figure to be either Bathsheba, or Daniel in the
+lions' den; while Tom Ingoldsby decided in favor of the king of Bashan.
+All, however, was conjecture, tradition being silent on the subject. A
+lofty arched portal led into, and a little arched portal led out of,
+this apartment; they were opposite each other, and each possessed the
+security of massy bolts on its interior. The bedstead, too, was not one
+of yesterday, but manifestly coeval with days ere Seddons was, and when
+a good four-post "article" was deemed worthy of being a royal bequest.
+The bed itself, with all the appurtenances of palliasse, mattresses,
+etc., was of far later date, and looked most incongruously comfortable;
+the casements, too, with their little diamond-shaped panes and iron
+binding, had given way to the modern heterodoxy of the sash-window. Nor
+was this all that conspired to ruin the costume, and render the room a
+meet haunt for such "mixed spirits" only as could condescend to don at
+the same time an Elizabethan doublet and Bond Street inexpressibles.
+
+With their green morocco slippers on a modern fender, in front of a
+disgracefully modern grate, sat two young gentlemen, clad in "shawl
+pattern" dressing-gowns and black silk stocks, much at variance with
+the high cane-backed chairs which supported them. A bunch of
+abomination, called a cigar, reeked in the left-hand corner of the mouth
+of one, and in the right-hand corner of the mouth of the other--an
+arrangement happily adapted for the escape of the noxious fumes up the
+chimney, without that unmerciful "funking" each other, which a less
+scientific disposition of the weed would have induced. A small pembroke
+table filled up the intervening space between them, sustaining, at each
+extremity, an elbow and a glass of toddy--thus in "lonely pensive
+contemplation" were the two worthies occupied, when the "iron tongue of
+midnight had tolled twelve."
+
+"Ghost-time's come!" said Ingoldsby, taking from his waistcoat pocket a
+watch like a gold half-crown, and consulting it as though he suspected
+the turret-clock over the stables of mendacity.
+
+"Hush!" said Charles; "did I not hear a footstep?"
+
+There was a pause--there _was_ a footstep--it sounded distinctly--it
+reached the door it hesitated, stopped, and--passed on.
+
+Tom darted across the room, threw open the door, and became aware of
+Mrs. Botherby toddling to her chamber, at the other end of the gallery,
+after dosing one of the housemaids with an approved julep from the
+Countess of Kent's "Choice Manual."
+
+"Good-night, sir!" said Mrs. Botherby.
+
+"Go to the d----l!" said the disappointed ghost-hunter.
+
+An hour--two--rolled on, and still no spectral visitation; nor did aught
+intervene to make night hideous; and when the turret-clock sounded at
+length the hour of three, Ingoldsby, whose patience and grog were alike
+exhausted, sprang from his chair, saying:
+
+"This is all infernal nonsense, my good fellow. Deuce of any ghost shall
+we see to-night; it's long past the canonical hour. I'm off to bed; and
+as to your breeches, I'll insure them for the next twenty-four hours at
+least, at the price of the buckram."
+
+"Certainly.--Oh! thank'ee--to be sure!" stammered Charles, rousing
+himself from a reverie, which had degenerated into an absolute snooze.
+
+"Good-night, my boy! Bolt the door behind me; and defy the Pope, the
+Devil, and the Pretender!"
+
+Seaforth followed his friend's advice, and the next morning came down to
+breakfast dressed in the habiliments of the preceding day. The charm was
+broken, the demon defeated; the light greys with the red stripe down the
+seams were yet _in rerum naturâ_, and adorned the person of their lawful
+proprietor.
+
+Tom felicitated himself and his partner of the watch on the result of
+their vigilance; but there is a rustic adage, which warns us against
+self-gratulation before we are quite "out of the wood."--Seaforth was
+yet within its verge.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A rap at Tom Ingoldsby's door the following morning startled him as he
+was shaving--he cut his chin.
+
+"Come in, and be d----d to you!" said the martyr, pressing his thumb on
+the scarified epidermis. The door opened, and exhibited Mr. Barney
+Maguire.
+
+"Well, Barney, what is it?" quoth the sufferer, adopting the vernacular
+of his visitant.
+
+"The master, sir----"
+
+"Well, what does he want?"
+
+"The loanst of a breeches, plase your honor."
+
+"Why, you don't mean to tell me--By Heaven, this is too good!" shouted
+Tom, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Why, Barney, you
+don't mean to say the ghost has got them again?"
+
+Mr. Maguire did not respond to the young squire's risibility; the cast
+of his countenance was decidedly serious.
+
+"Faith, then, it's gone they are sure enough! Hasn't meself been looking
+over the bed, and under the bed, and _in_ the bed, for the matter of
+that, and divil a ha'p'orth of breeches is there to the fore at
+all:--I'm bothered entirely!"
+
+"Hark'ee! Mr. Barney," said Tom, incautiously removing his thumb, and
+letting a crimson stream "incarnadine the multitudinous" lather that
+plastered his throat--"this may be all very well with your master, but
+you don't humbug _me_, sir:--Tell me instantly what have you done with
+the clothes?"
+
+This abrupt transition from "lively to severe" certainly took Maguire by
+surprise, and he seemed for an instant as much disconcerted as it is
+possible to disconcert an Irish gentleman's gentleman.
+
+"Me? is it meself, then, that's the ghost to your honor's thinking?"
+said he after a moment's pause, and with a slight shade of indignation
+in his tones; "is it I would stale the master's things--and what would I
+do with them?"
+
+"That you best know: what your purpose is I can't guess, for I don't
+think you mean to 'stale' them, as you call it; but that you are
+concerned in their disappearance, I am satisfied. Confound this
+blood!--give me a towel, Barney."
+
+Maguire acquitted himself of the commission. "As I've a sowl, your
+honor," said he, solemnly, "little it is meself knows of the matter: and
+after what I seen----"
+
+"What you've seen! Why, what _have_ you seen?--Barney, I don't want to
+inquire into your flirtations; but don't suppose you can palm off your
+saucer eyes and gig-lamps upon me!"
+
+"Then, as sure as your honor's standing there, I saw him: and why
+wouldn't I, when Miss _Pauline_ was to the fore as well as meself,
+and----"
+
+"Get along with your nonsense--leave the room, sir!"
+
+"But the master?" said Barney, imploringly; "and without a
+breeches?--sure he'll be catching cowld----!"
+
+"Take that, rascal!" replied Ingoldsby, throwing a pair of pantaloons
+at, rather than to, him: "but don't suppose, sir, you shall carry on
+your tricks here with impunity; recollect there is such a thing as a
+treadmill, and that my father is a county magistrate."
+
+Barney's eye flashed fire--he stood erect, and was about to speak; but,
+mastering himself, not without an effort, he took up the garment, and
+left the room as perpendicular as a Quaker.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Ingoldsby," said Charles Seaforth, after breakfast, "this is now past a
+joke; to-day is the last of my stay; for, notwithstanding the ties which
+detain me, common decency obliges me to visit home after so long an
+absence. I shall come to an immediate explanation with your father on
+the subject nearest my heart, and depart while I have a change of dress
+left. On his answer will my return depend! In the meantime tell me
+candidly--I ask it in all seriousness, and as a friend--am I not a dupe
+to your well-known propensity to hoaxing? have you not a hand in----"
+
+"No, by heaven, Seaforth; I see what you mean: on my honor, I am as much
+mystified as yourself; and if your servant----"
+
+"Not he:--If there be a trick, he at least is not privy to it."
+
+"If there _be_ a trick? why, Charles, do you, think----"
+
+"I know not _what_ to think, Tom. As surely as you are a living man, so
+surely did that spectral anatomy visit my room again last night, grin in
+my face, and walk away with my trousers; nor was I able to spring from
+my bed, or break the chain which seemed to bind me to my pillow."
+
+"Seaforth!" said Ingoldsby, after a short pause, "I will--But hush! here
+are the girls and my father. I will carry off the females, and leave you
+a clear field with the governor: carry your point with him, and we will
+talk about your breeches afterwards."
+
+Tom's diversion was successful; he carried off the ladies _en masse_ to
+look at a remarkable specimen of the class _Dodecandria
+Monogynia_--which they could not find--while Seaforth marched boldly up
+to the encounter, and carried "the governor's" outworks by a _coup de
+main_. I shall not stop to describe the progress of the attack; suffice
+it that it was as successful as could have been wished, and that
+Seaforth was referred back again to the lady. The happy lover was off at
+a tangent; the botanical party was soon overtaken; and the arm of
+Caroline, whom a vain endeavor to spell out the Linnæan name of a
+daffy-down-dilly had detained a little in the rear of the others, was
+soon firmly locked in his own.
+
+        What was the world to them,
+    Its noise, its nonsense and its "breeches" all?
+
+Seaforth was in the seventh heaven; he retired to his room that night as
+happy as if no such thing as a goblin had ever been heard of, and
+personal chattels were as well fenced in by law as real property. Not so
+Tom Ingoldsby: the mystery--for mystery there evidently was--had not
+only piqued his curiosity, but ruffled his temper. The watch of the
+previous night had been unsuccessful, probably because it was
+undisguised. To-night he would "ensconce himself"--not indeed "behind
+the arras"--for the little that remained was, as we have seen, nailed to
+the wall--but in a small closet which opened from one corner of the
+room, and by leaving the door ajar, would give to its occupant a view of
+all that might pass in the apartment. Here did the young ghost-hunter
+take up a position, with a good stout sapling under his arm, a full
+half-hour before Seaforth retired for the night. Not even his friend did
+he let into his confidence, fully determined that if his plan did not
+succeed, the failure should be attributed to himself alone.
+
+At the usual hour of separation for the night, Tom saw, from his
+concealment, the lieutenant enter his room, and after taking a few turns
+in it, with an expression so joyous as to betoken that his thoughts were
+mainly occupied by his approaching happiness, proceed slowly to disrobe
+himself. The coat, the waistcoat, the black silk stock, were gradually
+discarded; the green morocco slippers were kicked off, and then--ay, and
+then--his countenance grew grave; it seemed to occur to him all at once
+that this was his last stake--nay, that the very breeches he had on were
+not his own--that to-morrow morning was his last, and that if he lost
+_them_--A glance showed that his mind was made up; he replaced the
+single button he had just subducted, and threw himself upon the bed in a
+state of transition--half chrysalis, half grub.
+
+Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper by the flickering light of
+the night-lamp, till the clock striking one, induced him to increase the
+narrow opening which he had left for the purpose of observation. The
+motion, slight as it was, seemed to attract Charles's attention; for he
+raised himself suddenly to a sitting posture, listened for a moment, and
+then stood upright upon the floor. Ingoldsby was on the point of
+discovering himself, when, the light flashing full upon his friend's
+countenance, he perceived that, though his eyes were open, "their sense
+was shut"--that he was yet under the influence of sleep. Seaforth
+advanced slowly to the toilet, lit his candle at the lamp that stood on
+it, then, going back to the bed's foot, appeared to search eagerly for
+something which he could not find. For a few moments he seemed restless
+and uneasy, walking round the apartment and examining the chairs, till,
+coming fully in front of a large swing-glass that flanked the
+dressing-table, he paused as if contemplating his figure in it. He now
+returned towards the bed; put on his slippers, and, with cautious and
+stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched doorway that opened
+on the private staircase.
+
+As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged from his hiding-place; but
+the sleep-walker heard him not; he proceeded softly downstairs, followed
+at a due distance by his friend; opened the door which led out upon the
+gardens; and stood at once among the thickest of the shrubs, which there
+clustered round the base of a corner turret, and screened the postern
+from common observation. At this moment Ingoldsby had nearly spoiled all
+by making a false step: the sound attracted Seaforth's attention--he
+paused and turned; and, as the full moon shed her light directly upon
+his pale and troubled features, Tom marked, almost with dismay, the
+fixed and rayless appearance of his eyes:
+
+    There was no speculation in those orbs
+    That he did glare withal.
+
+The perfect stillness preserved by his follower seemed to reassure him;
+he turned aside, and from the midst of a thickest laurustinus drew forth
+a gardener's spade, shouldering which he proceeded with great rapidity
+into the midst of the shrubbery. Arrived at a certain point where the
+earth seemed to have been recently disturbed, he set himself heartily
+to the task of digging, till, having thrown up several shovelfuls of
+mould, he stopped, flung down his tool, and very composedly began to
+disencumber himself of his pantaloons.
+
+Up to this moment Tom had watched him with a wary eye; he now advanced
+cautiously, and, as his friend was busily engaged in disentangling
+himself from his garment, made himself master of the spade. Seaforth,
+meanwhile, had accomplished his purpose: he stood for a moment with
+
+    His streamers waving in the wind,
+
+occupied in carefully rolling up the small-clothes into as compact a
+form as possible, and all heedless of the breath of heaven, which might
+certainly be supposed at such a moment, and in such a plight, to "visit
+his frame too roughly."
+
+He was in the act of stooping low to deposit the pantaloons in the grave
+which he had been digging for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close behind
+him, and with the flat side of the spade----
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The shock was effectual; never again was Lieutenant Seaforth known to
+act the part of a somnambulist. One by one, his breeches--his
+trousers--his pantaloons--his silk-net tights--his patent cords--his
+showy greys with the broad red stripe of the Bombay Fencibles were
+brought to light--rescued from the grave in which they had been buried,
+like the strata of a Christmas pie; and after having been well aired by
+Mrs. Botherby, became once again effective.
+
+The family, the ladies especially, laughed; the Peterses laughed; the
+Simpkinsons laughed;--Barney Maguire cried "Botheration!" and _Ma'mselle
+Pauline_, "_Mon Dieu!_"
+
+Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing which awaited him on all
+sides, started off two hours earlier than he had proposed:--he soon
+returned, however; and having, at his father-in-law's request, given up
+the occupation of Rajah-hunting and shooting Nabobs, led his blushing
+bride to the altar.
+
+Mr. Simpkinson from Bath did not attend the ceremony, being engaged at
+the Grand Junction meeting of _Sçavans_, then, congregating from all
+parts of the known world in the city of Dublin. His essay, demonstrating
+that the globe is a great custard, whipped into coagulation by
+whirlwinds and cooked by electricity--a little too much baked in the
+Isle of Portland, and a thought underdone about the Bog of Allen--was
+highly spoken of, and narrowly escaped obtaining a Bridgewater prize.
+
+Miss Simpkinson and her sister acted as brides-maids on the occasion;
+the former wrote an _epithalamium_, and the latter cried "Lassy me!" at
+the clergyman's wig. Some years have since rolled on; the union has been
+crowned with two or three tidy little off-shoots from the family tree,
+of whom Master Neddy is "grandpapa's darling," and Mary Anne mamma's
+particular "Sock." I shall only add, that Mr. and Mrs. Seaforth are
+living together quite as happily as two good-hearted, good-tempered
+bodies, very fond of each other, can possibly do; and that, since the
+day of his marriage, Charles has shown no disposition to jump out of
+bed, or ramble out of doors o' nights--though from his entire devotion
+to every wish and whim of his young wife, Tom insinuates that the fair
+Caroline does still occasionally take advantage of it so far as to "slip
+on the breeches."
+
+
+
+
+IN THE BARN
+
+BY BURGES JOHNSON
+
+From the _Century Magazine_, June, 1920. By permission of the Century
+Company and Burges Johnson.
+
+
+
+
+In the Barn
+
+BY BURGES JOHNSON
+
+
+The moment we had entered the barn, I regretted the rash good nature
+which prompted me to consent to the plans of those vivacious young
+students. Miss Anstell and Miss Royce and one or two others, often
+leaders in student mischief, I suspect, were the first to enter, and
+they amused themselves by hiding in the darkness and greeting the rest
+of our party as we entered with sundry shrieks and moans such as are
+commonly attributed to ghosts. My wife and I brought up the rear,
+carrying the two farm lanterns. She had selected the place after an
+amused consideration of the question, and I confess I hardly approved
+her judgment. But she is native to this part of the country, and she had
+assured us that there were some vague traditions hanging about the
+building that made it most suitable for our purposes.
+
+It was a musty old place, without even as much tidiness as is usually
+found in barns, and there was a dank smell about it, as though
+generations of haymows had decayed there. There were holes in the floor,
+and in the dusk of early evening it was necessary for us to pick our
+way with the greatest care. It occurred to me then, in a premonitory
+sort of way, that if some young woman student sprained her ankle in this
+absurd environment, I should be most embarrassed to explain it.
+Apparently it was a hay barn, whose vague dimensions were lost in
+shadow. Rafters crossed its width about twenty feet above our heads, and
+here and there a few boards lay across the rafters, furnishing foothold
+for anyone who might wish to operate the ancient pulley that was
+doubtless once used for lifting bales. The northern half of the floor
+was covered with hay to a depth of two or three feet. How long it had
+actually been there I cannot imagine. It was extremely dusty, and I
+feared a recurrence of my old enemy, hay fever; but it was too late to
+offer objection on such grounds, and my wife and I followed our
+chattering guides, who disposed themselves here and there on this
+ancient bed of hay, and insisted that we should find places in the
+center of their circle.
+
+At my suggestion, the two farm lanterns had been left at a suitable
+distance, in fact, quite at the other side of the barn, and our only
+light came from the rapidly falling twilight of outdoors, which found
+its way through a little window and sundry cracks high in the eaves
+above the rafters.
+
+There was something about the place, now that we were settled and no
+longer occupied with adjustments of comfort, that subdued our spirits,
+and it was with much less hilarity that the young people united in
+demanding a story. I looked across at my wife, whose face was faintly
+visible within the circle. I thought that even in the half-light I
+glimpsed the same expression of amused incredulity which she had worn
+earlier in the day when I had yielded to the importunities of a
+deputation of my students for this ghost-story party on the eve of a
+holiday.
+
+"There is no reason," I thought to myself, repeating the phrases I had
+used then--"there is no reason why I should not tell a ghost story.
+True, I had never done so before, but the literary attainments which
+have enabled me to perfect my recent treatise upon the 'Disuse of the
+Comma' are quite equal to impromptu experimentation in the field of
+psychic phenomena." I was aware that the young people themselves hardly
+expected serious acquiescence, and that, too, stimulated me. I cleared
+my throat in a prefatory manner, and silence fell upon the group. A
+light breeze had risen outside, and the timbers of the barn creaked
+persistently. From the shadows almost directly overhead there came a
+faint clanking. It was evidently caused by the rusty pulley-wheel which
+I had observed there as we entered. An iron hook at the end of an
+ancient rope still depended from it, and swung in the lightly stirring
+air several feet above our heads, directly over the center of our
+circle.
+
+Some curious combination of influences--perhaps the atmosphere of the
+place, added to the stimulation of the faintly discernible faces around
+me, and my impulse to prove my own ability in this untried field of
+narration--gave me a sudden sense of being inspired. I found myself
+voicing fancies as though they were facts, and readily including
+imaginary names and data which certainly were not in any way
+premeditated.
+
+"This barn stands on the old Creed place," I began. "Peter Creed was its
+last owner, but I suppose that it has always been and always will be
+known as the Turner barn. A few yards away to the south you will find
+the crumbling brick-work and gaping hollows of an old foundation, now
+overgrown with weeds that almost conceal a few charred timbers. That is
+all that is left of the old Ashley Turner house."
+
+I cleared my throat again, not through any effort to gain time for my
+thoughts, but to feel for a moment the satisfaction arising from the
+intent attitude of my audience, particularly my wife, who had leaned
+forward and was looking at me with an expression of startled surprise.
+
+"Ashley Turner must have had a pretty fine-looking farm here thirty
+years or so ago," I continued, "when he brought his wife to it. This
+barn was new then. But he was a ne'er-do-well, with nothing to be said
+in his favor, unless you admit his fame as a practical joker. Strange
+how the ne'er-do-well is often equipped with an extravagant sense of
+humor! Turner had a considerable retinue among the riffraff boys of the
+neighborhood, who made this barn a noisy rendezvous and followed his
+hints in much whimsical mischief. But he committed most of his practical
+jokes when drunk, and in his sober moments he abused his family and let
+his wife struggle to keep up the acres, assisted only by a
+half-competent man of all work. Finally he took to roving. No one knew
+how he got pocket-money; his wife could not have given him any. Then
+someone discovered that he was going over to Creed's now and then, and
+everything was explained."
+
+This concise data of mine was evidently not holding the close attention
+of my youthful audience. They annoyed me by frequent pranks and
+whisperings. No one could have been more surprised at my glibness than I
+myself, except perhaps my wife, whose attitude of strained attention had
+not relaxed. I resumed my story.
+
+"Peter Creed was a good old-fashioned usurer of the worst type. He went
+to church regularly one day in the week and gouged his neighbors--any
+that he could get into his clutches--on the other six. He must have been
+lending Turner drinking money, and everyone knew what the security must
+be.
+
+"At last there came a day when the long-suffering wife revolted. Turner
+had come home extra drunk and in his most maudlin humor. Probably he
+attempted some drunken prank upon his over-taxed helpmate. Old Ike, the
+hired man, said that he thought Turner had rigged up some scare for her
+in the barn and that he had never heard anything so much like straight
+talking from his mistress, either before or since, and he was working in
+the woodshed at the time, with the door shut. Shortly after that tirade
+Ashley Turner disappeared, and no one saw or heard of him or thought
+about him for a couple of years except when the sight of his
+tired-looking wife and scrawny children revived the recollection.
+
+"At last, on a certain autumn day, old Peter Creed turned up here at the
+Turner place. I imagine Mrs. Turner knew what was in store for her when
+his rusty buggy came in sight around the corner of the barn. At any
+rate, she made no protest, and listened meekly to his curt statement
+that he held an overdue mortgage, with plenty of back interest owing,
+and it was time for her to go. She went. Neither she nor anyone else
+doubted Creed's rights in the matter, and, after all, I believe it got a
+better home for her somewhere in the long run."
+
+I paused here in my narration to draw breath and readjust my leg, which
+had become cramped. There was a general readjustment and shifting of
+position, with some levity. It was darker now. The rafters above us were
+invisible, and the faces about me looked oddly white against the shadowy
+background. After a moment or two of delay I cleared my throat sharply
+and continued.
+
+"Old Creed came thus into possession of this place, just as he had come
+to own a dozen others in the county. He usually lived on one until he
+was able to sell it at a good profit over his investment; so he settled
+down in the Turner house, and kept old Ike because he worked for little
+or nothing. But he seemed to have a hard time finding a purchaser.
+
+"It must have been about a year later when an unexpected thing happened.
+Creed had come out here to the barn to lock up--he always did that
+himself--when he noticed something unusual about the haymow--this
+haymow--which stood then about six feet above the barn floor. He looked
+closer through the dusk, and saw a pair of boots; went nearer, and found
+that they were fitted to a pair of human legs whose owner was sound
+asleep in his hay. Creed picked up a short stick and beat on one boot.
+
+"'Get out of here,' he said, 'or I'll have you locked up.' The sleeper
+woke in slow fashion, sat up, grinned, and said:
+
+"'Hello, Peter Creed.' It was Ashley Turner, beyond question. Creed
+stepped back a pace or two and seemed at a loss for words. An object
+slipped from Turner's pocket as he moved, slid along the hay, and fell
+to the barn floor. It was a half-filled whisky-flask.
+
+"No one knows full details of the conversation that ensued, of course.
+Such little as I am able to tell you of what was said and done comes
+through old Ike, who watched from a safe distance outside the barn,
+ready to act at a moment's notice as best suited his own safety and
+welfare. Of one thing Ike was certain--Creed lacked his usual
+browbeating manner. He was apparently struggling to assume an unwonted
+friendliness. Turner was very drunk, but triumphant, and his
+satisfaction over what he must have felt was the practical joke of his
+life seemed to make him friendly.
+
+"'I kept 'em all right,' he said again and again. 'I've got the proof. I
+wasn't working for nothing all these months. I ain't fool enough yet to
+throw away papers even when I'm drunk.'
+
+"To the watchful Ike's astonishment, Creed evidently tried to persuade
+him to come into the house for something to eat. Turner slid off the
+haymow, found his steps too unsteady, laughed foolishly, and suggested
+that Creed bring some food to him there. 'Guess I've got a right to
+sleep in the barn or house, whichever I want,' he said, leering into
+Creed's face. The old usurer stood there for a few minutes eying Turner
+thoughtfully. Then he actually gave him a shoulder back onto the hay,
+said something about finding a snack of supper, and started out of the
+barn. In the doorway he turned, looked back, then walked over to the
+edge of the mow and groped on the floor until he found the whisky-flask,
+picked it up, tossed it into Turner's lap, and stumbled out of the barn
+again."
+
+I was becoming interested in my own story and somewhat pleased with the
+fluency of it, but my audience annoyed me. There was intermittent
+whispering, with some laughter, and I inferred that one or another
+would occasionally stimulate this inattention by tickling a companion
+with a straw. Miss Anstell, who is so frivolous by nature that I
+sometimes question her right to a place in my classroom, I even
+suspected of irritating the back of my own neck in the same fashion.
+Naturally, I ignored it.
+
+"Peter Creed," I repeated, "went into the house. Ike hung around the
+barn, waiting. He was frankly curious. In a few minutes his employer
+reappeared, carrying a plate heaped with an assortment of scraps. Ike
+peered and listened then without compunction.
+
+"'It's the best I've got,' he heard Creed say grudgingly. Turner's tones
+were now more drunkenly belligerent.
+
+"'It had better be,' he said loudly. 'And I'll take the best bed after
+to-night.' Evidently he was eating and muttering between mouthfuls. 'You
+might have brought me another bottle.'
+
+"'I did,' said Creed, to the listening Ike's great astonishment. Turner
+laughed immoderately.
+
+"A long silence followed. Turner was either eating or drinking. Then he
+spoke again, more thickly and drowsily.
+
+"'Damn unpleasant that rope. Why don't you haul it up out of my way?'
+
+"'It don't hurt you any,' said Creed.
+
+"'Don't you wish it would?' said Turner, with drunken shrewdness. 'But I
+don't like it. Haul it away.'
+
+"'I will,' said Creed.
+
+"There was a longer silence, and then there came an intermittent rasping
+sound. A moment later Creed came suddenly from the barn. Ike fumbled
+with a large rake, and made as though to hang it on its accustomed peg
+near the barn door. Creed eyed him sharply. 'Get along to bed,' he
+ordered, and Ike obeyed.
+
+"That was a Saturday night. On Sunday morning Ike went to the barn later
+than usual and hesitatingly. Even then he was first to enter. He found
+the drunkard's body hanging here over the mow, just about where we are
+sitting, stark and cold. It was a gruesome end to a miserable
+home-coming."
+
+My audience was quiet enough now. Miss Anstell and one or two others
+giggled loudly, but it was obviously forced, and found no further echo.
+The breeze which had sprung up some time before was producing strange
+creakings and raspings in the old timbers, and the pulley-wheel far
+above us clanked with a dismal repetitious sound, like the tolling of a
+cracked bell.
+
+I waited a moment, well satisfied with the effect, and then continued.
+
+"The coroner's jury found it suicide, though some shook their heads
+meaningly. Turner had apparently sobered up enough to stand, and, making
+a simple loop around his neck by catching the rope through its own hook,
+had then slid off the mow. The rope which went over the pulley-wheel up
+there in the roof ran out through a window under the eaves, and was made
+fast near the barn door outside, where anyone could haul on it. Creed
+testified the knot was one he had tied many days before. Ike was a
+timorous old man, with a wholesome fear of his employer, and he
+supported the testimony and made no reference to his eavesdropping of
+the previous evening, though he heard Creed swear before the jury that
+he did not recognize the tramp he had fed and lodged. There were no
+papers in Turner's pockets; only a few coins, and a marked pocket-knife
+that gave the first clue to his identity.
+
+"A few of the neighbors said that it was a fitting end, and that the
+verdict was a just one. Nevertheless, whisperings began and increased.
+People avoided Creed and the neighborhood. Rumors grew that the barn was
+haunted. Passers-by on the road after dark said they heard the old
+pulley-wheel clanking when no breeze stirred, much as you hear it now.
+Some claim to have heard maudlin laughter. Possible purchasers were
+frightened away, and Creed grew more and more solitary and misanthropic.
+Old Ike hung on, Heaven knows why, though I suppose Creed paid him some
+sort of wage.
+
+"Rumors grew. Folks said that neither Ike nor Creed entered this barn
+after a time, and no hay was put in, though Creed would not have been
+Creed if he had not sold off the bulk of what he had, ghost or no ghost.
+I can imagine him slowly forking it out alone, daytimes, and the amount
+of hay still here proves that even he finally lost courage."
+
+I paused a moment, but though there was much uneasy stirring about, and
+the dismal clanking directly above us was incessant, no one of my
+audience spoke. It was wholly dark now, and I think all had drawn closer
+together.
+
+"About ten years ago people began calling Creed crazy." Here I was
+forced to interrupt my own story. "I shall have to ask you, Miss
+Anstell, to stop annoying me. I have been aware for some moments that
+you are brushing my head with a straw, but I have ignored it for the
+sake of the others." Out of the darkness came Miss Anstell's voice,
+protesting earnestly, and I realized from the direction of the sound
+that in the general readjustment she must have settled down in the very
+center of our circle, and could not be the one at fault. One of the
+others was childish enough to simulate a mocking burst of raucous
+laughter, but I chose to ignore it.
+
+"Very well," said I, graciously; "shall I go on?"
+
+"Go on," echoed a subdued chorus.
+
+"It was the night of the twenty-eighth of May, ten years ago----"
+
+"Not the twenty-eighth," broke in my wife's voice, sharply; "that is
+to-day's date." There was a note in her voice that I hardly recognized,
+but it indicated that she was in some way affected by my narration, and
+I felt a distinct sense of triumph.
+
+"It was the night of May twenty-eighth," I repeated firmly.
+
+"Are you making up this story?" my wife's voice continued, still with
+the same odd tone.
+
+"I am, my dear, and you are interrupting it."
+
+"But an Ashley Turner and later a Peter Creed owned this place," she
+persisted almost in a whisper, "and I am sure you never heard of them."
+
+I confess that I might wisely have broken off my story then and called
+for a light. There had been an hysterical note in my wife's voice, and I
+was startled at her words, for I had no conscious recollection of either
+name; yet I felt a resultant exhilaration. Our lanterns had grown
+strangely dim, though I was certain both had been recently trimmed and
+filled; and from their far corner of the barn they threw no light
+whatever into our circle. I faced an utter blackness.
+
+"On that night," said I, "old Ike was wakened by sounds as of someone
+fumbling to unbar and open the housedoor. It was an unwonted hour, and
+he peered from the window of his little room. By the dim starlight--it
+was just before dawn--he could see all of the open yard and roadway
+before the house, with the great barn looming like a black and sinister
+shadow as its farther barrier. Crossing this space, he saw the figure of
+Peter Creed, grotesquely stooped and old in the obscuring gloom, moving
+slowly, almost gropingly, and yet directly, as though impelled, toward
+the barn's overwhelming shadow. Slowly he unbarred the great door,
+swung it open, and entered the blacker shadows it concealed. The door
+closed after him.
+
+"Ike in his secure post of observation did not stir. He could not. Even
+to his crude imagining there was something utterly horrible in the
+thought of Creed alone at that hour in just such black darkness as this,
+with the great timbered chamber haunted at least by its dread memories.
+He could only wait, tense and fearful of he knew not what.
+
+"A shriek that pierced the silence relaxed his tension, bringing almost
+a sense of relief, so definite had been his expectancy. But it was a
+burst of shrill laughter, ribald, uncanny, undeniable, accompanying the
+shriek that gave him power of motion. He ran half naked a quarter of a
+mile to the nearest neighbor's and told his story."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"They found Creed hanging, the rope hooked simply around his neck. It
+was a silent jury that filed from the barn that morning after viewing
+the body. 'Suicide,' said they, after Ike, shivering and stammering, had
+testified, harking back to the untold evidence of that other morning
+years before. Yes, Creed was dead, with a terrible look on his wizen
+face, and the dusty old rope ran through its pulley-wheel and was fast
+to a beam high above.
+
+"'He must of climbed to the beam, made the rope fast, and jumped,' said
+the foreman, solemnly. 'He must of, he must of,' repeated the man,
+parrot-like, while the sweat stood out on his forehead, 'because there
+wasn't no other way; but as God is my judge, the knot in the rope and
+the dust on the beam ain't been disturbed for years.'"
+
+At this dramatic climax there was an audible sigh from my audience. I
+sat quietly for a time, content to allow the silence and the atmosphere
+of the place, which actually seemed surcharged with influences not of my
+creation, to add to the effect my story had caused. There was scarcely a
+movement in our circle; of that I felt sure. And yet once more, out of
+the almost tangible darkness above me, something seemed to reach down
+and brush against my head. A slight motion of air, sufficient to disturb
+my rather scanty locks, was additional proof that I was the butt of some
+prank that had just missed its objective. Then, with a fearful
+suddenness, close to my ear burst a shrill discord of laughter, so
+uncanny and so unlike the usual sound of student merriment that I
+started up, half wondering if I had heard it. Almost immediately after
+it the heavy darkness was torn again by a shriek so terrible in its
+intensity as completely to differentiate it from the other cries which
+followed.
+
+"Bring a light!" cried a voice that I recognized as that of my wife,
+though strangely distorted by emotion. There was a great confusion.
+Young women struggled from their places and impeded one another in the
+darkness; but finally, and it seemed an unbearable delay, someone
+brought a single lantern.
+
+Its frail light revealed Miss Anstell half upright from her place in the
+center of our circle, my wife's arms sustaining her weight. Her face, as
+well as I could see it, seemed darkened and distorted, and when we
+forced her clutching hands away from her bared throat we could see, even
+in that light, the marks of an angry, throttling scar entirely
+encircling it. Just above her head the old pulley-rope swayed menacingly
+in the faint breeze.
+
+My recollection is even now confused as to the following moments and our
+stumbling escape from that gruesome spot. Miss Anstell is now at her
+home, recovering from what her physician calls mental shock. My wife
+will not speak of it. The questions I would ask her are checked on my
+lips by the look of utter terror in her eyes. As I have confessed to
+you, my own philosophy is hard put to it to withstand not so much the
+community attitude toward what they are pleased to call my taste in
+practical joking, but to assemble and adjust the facts of my
+experience.
+
+
+
+
+A SHADY PLOT
+
+BY ELSIE BROWN
+
+This story was submitted as a class exercise in one of my short-story
+classes at Columbia University. At my request the author, Elsie Brown,
+contributed it to this volume.
+
+
+
+
+A Shady Plot
+
+BY ELSIE BROWN
+
+
+So I sat down to write a ghost story.
+
+Jenkins was responsible.
+
+"Hallock," he had said to me, "give us another on the supernatural this
+time. Something to give 'em the horrors; that's what the public wants,
+and your ghosts are live propositions."
+
+Well, I was in no position to contradict Jenkins, for, as yet, his
+magazine had been the only one to print my stuff. So I had said,
+"Precisely!" in the deepest voice I was capable of, and had gone out.
+
+I hadn't the shade of an idea, but at the time that didn't worry me in
+the least. You see, I had often been like that before and in the end
+things had always come my way--I didn't in the least know how or why. It
+had all been rather mysterious. You understand I didn't specialize in
+ghost stories, but more or less they seemed to specialize in me. A ghost
+story had been the first fiction I had written. Curious how that idea
+for a plot had come to me out of nowhere after I had chased inspiration
+in vain for months! Even now whenever Jenkins wanted a ghost, he called
+on me. And I had never found it healthy to contradict Jenkins. Jenkins
+always seemed to have an uncanny knowledge as to when the landlord or
+the grocer were pestering me, and he dunned me for a ghost. And somehow
+I'd always been able to dig one up for him, so I'd begun to get a bit
+cocky as to my ability.
+
+So I went home and sat down before my desk and sucked at the end of my
+pencil and waited, but nothing happened. Pretty soon my mind began to
+wander off on other things, decidedly unghostly and material things,
+such as my wife's shopping and how on earth I was going to cure her of
+her alarming tendency to take every new fad that came along and work it
+to death. But I realized _that_ would never get me any place, so I went
+back to staring at the ceiling.
+
+"This writing business _is_ delightful, isn't it?" I said sarcastically at
+last, out loud, too. You see, I had reached the stage of imbecility when
+I was talking to myself.
+
+"Yes," said a voice at the other end of the room, "I should say it is!"
+
+I admit I jumped. Then I looked around.
+
+It was twilight by this time and I had forgotten to turn on the lamp.
+The other end of the room was full of shadows and furniture. I sat
+staring at it and presently noticed something just taking shape. It was
+exactly like watching one of these moving picture cartoons being put
+together. First an arm came out, then a bit of sleeve of a stiff white
+shirtwaist, then a leg and a plaid skirt, until at last there she was
+complete,--whoever she was.
+
+She was long and angular, with enormous fishy eyes behind big
+bone-rimmed spectacles, and her hair in a tight wad at the back of her
+head (yes, I seemed able to see right through her head) and a jaw--well,
+it looked so solid that for the moment I began to doubt my very own
+senses and believe she was real after all.
+
+She came over and stood in front of me and glared--yes, positively
+glared down at me, although (to my knowledge) I had never laid eyes on
+the woman before, to say nothing of giving her cause to look at me like
+that.
+
+I sat still, feeling pretty helpless I can tell you, and at last she
+barked:
+
+"What are you gaping at?"
+
+I swallowed, though I hadn't been chewing anything.
+
+"Nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing. My dear lady, I was merely
+waiting for you to tell me why you had come. And excuse me, but do you
+always come in sections like this? I should think your parts might get
+mixed up sometimes."
+
+"Didn't you send for me?" she crisped.
+
+Imagine how I felt at that!
+
+"Why, no. I--I don't seem to remember----"
+
+"Look here. Haven't you been calling on heaven and earth all afternoon
+to help you write a story?"
+
+I nodded, and then a possible explanation occurred to me and my spine
+got cold. Suppose this was the ghost of a stenographer applying for a
+job! I had had an advertisement in the paper recently. I opened my mouth
+to explain that the position was filled, and permanently so, but she
+stopped me.
+
+"And when I got back to the office from my last case and was ready for
+you, didn't you switch off to something else and sit there driveling so
+I couldn't attract your attention until just now?"
+
+"I--I'm very sorry, really."
+
+"Well, you needn't be, because I just came to tell you to stop bothering
+us for assistance; you ain't going to get it. We're going on Strike!"
+
+"What!"
+
+"You don't have to yell at me."
+
+"I--I didn't mean to yell," I said humbly. "But I'm afraid I didn't
+quite understand you. You said you were----"
+
+"Going on strike. Don't you know what a strike is? Not another plot do
+you get from us!"
+
+I stared at her and wet my lips.
+
+"Is--is that where they've been coming from?"
+
+"Of course. Where else?"
+
+"But my ghosts aren't a bit like you----"
+
+"If they were people wouldn't believe in them." She draped herself on
+the top of my desk among the pens and ink bottles and leaned towards me.
+"In the other life _I_ used to write."
+
+"You did!"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"But that has nothing to do with my present form. It might have, but I
+gave it up at last for that very reason, and went to work as a reader on
+a magazine." She sighed, and rubbed the end of her long eagle nose with
+a reminiscent finger. "Those were terrible days; the memory of them made
+me mistake purgatory for paradise, and at last when I attained my
+present state of being, I made up my mind that something should be done.
+I found others who had suffered similarly, and between us we organized
+'The Writer's Inspiration Bureau.' We scout around until we find a
+writer without ideas and with a mind soft enough to accept impression.
+The case is brought to the attention of the main office, and one of us
+assigned to it. When that case is finished we bring in a report."
+
+"But I never saw you before----"
+
+"And you wouldn't have this time if I hadn't come to announce the
+strike. Many a time I've leaned on your shoulder when you've thought
+_you_ were thinking hard--" I groaned, and clutched my hair. The very
+idea of that horrible scarecrow so much as touching me! and wouldn't my
+wife be shocked! I shivered. "But," she continued, "that's at an end.
+We've been called out of our beds a little too often in recent years,
+and now we're through."
+
+"But my dear madam, I assure you I have had nothing to do with that. I
+hope I'm properly grateful and all that, you see."
+
+"Oh, it isn't you," she explained patronizingly. "It's those Ouija board
+fanatics. There was a time when we had nothing much to occupy us and
+used to haunt a little on the side, purely for amusement, but not any
+more. We've had to give up haunting almost entirely. We sit at a desk
+and answer questions now. And such questions!"
+
+She shook her head hopelessly, and taking off her glasses wiped them,
+and put them back on her nose again.
+
+"But what have I got to do with this?"
+
+She gave me a pitying look and rose.
+
+"You're to exert your influence. Get all your friends and acquaintances
+to stop using the Ouija board, and then we'll start helping you to
+write."
+
+"But----"
+
+There was a footstep outside my door.
+
+"John! Oh, John!" called the voice of my wife.
+
+I waved my arms at the ghost with something of the motion of a beginner
+when learning to swim.
+
+"Madam, I must ask you to leave, and at once. Consider the impression if
+you were seen here----"
+
+The ghost nodded, and began, very sensibly, I thought, to demobilize and
+evaporate. First the brogans on her feet grew misty until I could see
+the floor through them, then the affection spread to her knees and
+gradually extended upward. By this time my wife was opening the door.
+
+"Don't forget the strike," she repeated, while her lower jaw began to
+disintegrate, and as my Lavinia crossed the room to me the last vestige
+of her ear faded into space.
+
+"John, why in the world are you sitting in the dark?"
+
+"Just--thinking, my dear."
+
+"Thinking, rubbish! You were talking out loud."
+
+I remained silent while she lit the lamps, thankful that her back was
+turned to me. When I am nervous or excited there is a muscle in my face
+that starts to twitch, and this pulls up one corner of my mouth and
+gives the appearance of an idiotic grin. So far I had managed to conceal
+this affliction from Lavinia.
+
+"You know I bought the loveliest thing this afternoon. Everybody's wild
+over them!"
+
+I remembered her craze for taking up new fads and a premonitory chill
+crept up the back of my neck.
+
+"It--it isn't----" I began and stopped. I simply couldn't ask; the
+possibility was too horrible.
+
+"You'd never guess in the world. It's the duckiest, darlingest Ouija
+board, and so cheap! I got it at a bargain sale. Why, what's the matter,
+John?"
+
+I felt things slipping.
+
+"Nothing," I said, and looked around for the ghost. Suppose she had
+lingered, and upon hearing what my wife had said should suddenly
+appear----Like all sensitive women, Lavinia was subject to hysterics.
+
+"But you looked so funny----"
+
+"I--I always do when I'm interested," I gulped. "But don't you think
+that was a foolish thing to buy?"
+
+"Foolish! Oh, John! Foolish! And after me getting it for you!"
+
+"For me! What do you mean?"
+
+"To help you write your stories. Why, for instance, suppose you wanted
+to write an historical novel. You wouldn't have to wear your eyes out
+over those musty old books in the public library. All you'd have to do
+would be to get out your Ouija and talk to Napoleon, or William the
+Conqueror, or Helen of Troy--well, maybe not Helen--anyhow you'd have
+all the local color you'd need, and without a speck of trouble. And
+think how easy writing your short stories will be now."
+
+"But Lavinia, you surely don't believe in Ouija boards."
+
+"I don't know, John--they are awfully thrilling."
+
+She had seated herself on the arm of my chair and was looking dreamily
+across the room. I started and turned around. There was nothing there,
+and I sank back with relief. So far so good.
+
+"Oh, certainly, they're thrilling all right. That's just it, they're a
+darn sight too thrilling. They're positively devilish. Now, Lavinia, you
+have plenty of sense, and I want you to get rid of that thing just as
+soon as you can. Take it back and get something else."
+
+My wife crossed her knees and stared at me through narrowed lids.
+
+"John Hallock," she said distinctly. "I don't propose to do anything of
+the kind. In the first place they won't exchange things bought at a
+bargain sale, and in the second, if you aren't interested in the other
+world _I_ am. So there!" and she slid down and walked from the room
+before I could think of a single thing to say. She walked very huffily.
+
+Well, it was like that all the rest of the evening. Just as soon as I
+mentioned Ouija boards I felt things begin to cloud up; so I decided to
+let it go for the present, in the hope that she might be more reasonable
+later.
+
+After supper I had another try at the writing, but as my mind continued
+a perfect blank I gave it up and went off to bed.
+
+The next day was Saturday, and it being near the end of the month and a
+particularly busy day, I left home early without seeing Lavinia.
+Understand, I haven't quite reached the point where I can give my whole
+time to writing, and being bookkeeper for a lumber company does help
+with the grocery bills and pay for Lavinia's fancy shopping. Friday had
+been a half holiday, and of course when I got back the work was piled up
+pretty high; so high, in fact, that ghosts and stories and everything
+else vanished in a perfect tangle of figures.
+
+When I got off the street car that evening my mind was still churning.
+I remember now that I noticed, even from the corner, how brightly the
+house was illuminated, but at the time that didn't mean anything to me.
+I recall as I went up the steps and opened the door I murmured:
+
+"Nine times nine is eighty-one!"
+
+And then Gladolia met me in the hall.
+
+"Misto Hallock, de Missus sho t'inks you's lost! She say she done 'phone
+you dis mawnin' to be home early, but fo' de lawd's sake not to stop to
+argify now, but get ready fo' de company an' come on down."
+
+Some memory of a message given me by one of the clerks filtered back
+through my brain, but I had been hunting three lost receipts at the
+time, and had completely forgotten it.
+
+"Company?" I said stupidly. "What company?"
+
+"De Missus's Ouija boahrd pahrty," said Gladolia, and rolling her eyes
+she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
+
+I must have gone upstairs and dressed and come down again, for I
+presently found myself standing in the dimly lighted lower hall wearing
+my second best suit and a fresh shirt and collar. But I have no
+recollections of the process.
+
+There was a great chattering coming from our little parlor and I went
+over to the half-opened door and peered through.
+
+The room was full of women--most of them elderly--whom I recognized as
+belonging to my wife's Book Club. They were sitting in couples, and
+between each couple was a Ouija board! The mournful squeak of the legs
+of the moving triangular things on which they rested their fingers
+filled the air and mixed in with the conversation. I looked around for
+the ghost with my heart sunk down to zero. What if Lavinia should see
+her and go mad before my eyes! And then my wife came and tapped me on
+the shoulder.
+
+"John," she said in her sweetest voice, and I noticed that her cheeks
+were very pink and her eyes very bright. My wife is never so pretty as
+when she's doing something she knows I disapprove of, "John, dear I know
+you'll help us out. Mrs. William Augustus Wainright 'phoned at the last
+moment to say that she couldn't possibly come, and that leaves poor
+Laura Hinkle without a partner. Now, John, I know _some_ people can work
+a Ouija by themselves, but Laura can't, and she'll just have a horrible
+time unless you----"
+
+"Me!" I gasped. "Me! I won't----" but even as I spoke she had taken my
+arm, and the next thing I knew I was sitting with the thing on my knees
+and Miss Laura Hinkle opposite, grinning in my face like a flirtatious
+crocodile.
+
+"I--I won't----" I began.
+
+"Now, Mr. Hallock, don't you be shy." Miss Laura Hinkle leaned forward
+and shook a bony finger almost under my chin.
+
+"I--I'm not! Only I say I won't----!"
+
+"No, it's very easy, really. You just put the tips of your fingers
+right here beside the tips of my fingers----"
+
+And the first thing I knew she had taken my hands and was coyly holding
+them in the position desired. She released them presently, and the
+little board began to slide around in an aimless sort of way. There
+seemed to be some force tugging it about. I looked at my partner, first
+with suspicion, and then with a vast relief. If she was doing it, then
+all that talk about spirits----Oh, I did hope Miss Laura Hinkle was
+cheating with that board!
+
+"Ouija, dear, won't you tell us something?" she cooed, and on the
+instant the thing seemed to take life.
+
+It rushed to the upper left hand corner of the board and hovered with
+its front leg on the word "Yes." Then it began to fly around so fast
+that I gave up any attempt to follow it. My companion was bending
+forward and had started to spell out loud:
+
+"'T-r-a-i-t-o-r.' Traitor! Why, what does she mean?"
+
+"I don't know," I said desperately. My collar felt very tight.
+
+"But she must mean something. Ouija, dear, won't you explain yourself
+more fully?"
+
+"'A-s-k-h-i-m!' Ask him. Ask who, Ouija?"
+
+"I--I'm going." I choked and tried to get up but my fingers seemed stuck
+to that dreadful board and I dropped back again.
+
+Apparently Miss Hinkle had not heard my protest. The thing was going
+around faster than ever and she was reading the message silently, with
+her brow corrugated, and the light of the huntress in her pale blue
+eyes.
+
+"Why, she says it's you, Mr. Hallock. What _does_ she mean? Ouija, won't
+you tell us who is talking?"
+
+I groaned, but that inexorable board continued to spell. I always did
+hate a spelling match! Miss Hinkle was again following it aloud:
+
+"'H-e-l-e-n.' Helen!" She raised her voice until it could be heard at
+the other end of the room. "Lavinia, dear, do you know anyone by the
+name of Helen?"
+
+"By the name of----? I can't hear you." And my wife made her way over to
+us between the Book Club's chairs.
+
+"You know the funniest thing has happened," she whispered excitedly.
+"Someone had been trying to communicate with John through Mrs. Hunt's
+and Mrs. Sprinkle's Ouija! Someone by the name of Helen----"
+
+"Why, _isn't_ that curious!"
+
+"What is?"
+
+Miss Hinkle simpered.
+
+"Someone giving the name of Helen has just been calling for your husband
+here."
+
+"But we don't know anyone by the name of Helen----"
+
+Lavinia stopped and began to look at me through narrowed lids much as
+she had done in the library the evening before.
+
+And then from different parts of the room other manipulators began to
+report. Every plagued one of those five Ouija boards was calling me by
+name! I felt my ears grow crimson, purple, maroon. My wife was looking
+at me as though I were some peculiar insect. The squeak of Ouija boards
+and the murmur of conversation rose louder and louder, and then I felt
+my face twitch in the spasm of that idiotic grin. I tried to straighten
+my wretched features into their usual semblance of humanity, I tried
+and----
+
+"Doesn't he look sly!" said Miss Hinkle. And then I got up and fled from
+the room.
+
+I do not know how that party ended. I do not want to know. I went
+straight upstairs, and undressed and crawled into bed, and lay there in
+the burning dark while the last guest gurgled in the hall below about
+the wonderful evening she had spent. I lay there while the front door
+shut after her, and Lavinia's steps came up the stairs and--passed the
+door to the guest room beyond. And then after a couple of centuries
+elapsed the clock struck three and I dozed off to sleep.
+
+At the breakfast table the next morning there was no sign of my wife. I
+concluded she was sleeping late, but Gladolia, upon being questioned,
+only shook her head, muttered something, and turned the whites of her
+eyes up to the ceiling. I was glad when the meal was over and hurried
+to the library for another try at that story.
+
+I had hardly seated myself at the desk when there came a tap at the door
+and a white slip of paper slid under it. I unfolded it and read:
+
+     "DEAR JOHN,
+
+     "I am going back to my grandmother. My lawyer will
+     communicate with you later."
+
+"Oh," I cried. "Oh, I wish I was dead!"
+
+And:
+
+"That's exactly what you ought to be!" said that horrible voice from the
+other end of the room.
+
+I sat up abruptly--I had sunk into a chair under the blow of the
+letter--then I dropped back again and my hair rose in a thick prickle on
+the top of my head. Coming majestically across the floor towards me was
+a highly polished pair of thick laced shoes. I stared at them in a sort
+of dreadful fascination, and then something about their gait attracted
+my attention and I recognized them.
+
+"See here," I said sternly. "What do you mean by appearing here like
+this?"
+
+"_I_ can't help it," said the voice, which seemed to come from a point
+about five and a half feet above the shoes. I raised my eyes and
+presently distinguished her round protruding mouth.
+
+"Why can't you? A nice way to act, to walk in sections----"
+
+"If you'll give me time," said the mouth in an exasperated voice, "I
+assure you the rest of me will presently arrive."
+
+"But what's the matter with you? You never acted this way before."
+
+She seemed stung to make a violent effort, for a portion of a fishy eye
+and the end of her nose popped into view with a suddenness that made me
+jump.
+
+"It's all your fault." She glared at me, while part of her hair and her
+plaid skirt began slowly to take form.
+
+"My fault!"
+
+"Of course. How can you keep a lady up working all night and then expect
+her to retain all her faculties the next day? I'm just too tired to
+materialize."
+
+"Then why did you bother?"
+
+"Because I was sent to ask when your wife is going to get rid of that
+Ouija board."
+
+"How should I know! I wish to heaven I'd never seen you!" I cried. "Look
+what you've done! You've lost me my wife, you've lost me my home and
+happiness, you've----you've----"
+
+"Misto Hallock," came from the hall outside, "Misto Hallock, I's gwine
+t' quit. I don't like no hoodoos." And the steps retreated.
+
+"You've----you've lost me my cook----"
+
+"I didn't come here to be abused," said the ghost coldly. "I--I----"
+
+And then the door opened and Lavinia entered. She wore the brown hat and
+coat she usually travels in and carried a suitcase which she set down
+on the floor.
+
+That suitcase had an air of solid finality about it, and its lock leered
+at me brassily.
+
+I leaped from my chair with unaccustomed agility and sprang in front of
+my wife. I must conceal that awful phantom from her, at any risk!
+
+She did not look at me, or--thank heaven!--behind me, but fixed her
+injured gaze upon the waste-basket, as if to wrest dark secrets from it.
+
+"I have come to tell you that I am leaving," she staccatoed.
+
+"Oh, yes, yes!" I agreed, flapping my arms about to attract attention
+from the corner. "That's fine--great!"
+
+"So you want me to go, do you?" she demanded.
+
+"Sure, yes--right away! Change of air will do you good. I'll join you
+presently!" If only she would go till Helen could _de_-part! I'd have
+the devil of a time explaining afterward, of course, but anything would
+be better than to have Lavinia see a ghost. Why, that sensitive little
+woman couldn't bear to have a mouse say boo at her--and what would she
+say to a ghost in her own living-room?
+
+Lavinia cast a cold eye upon me. "You are acting very queerly," she
+sniffed. "You are concealing something from me."
+
+Just then the door opened and Gladolia called, "Mis' Hallock! Mis'
+Hallock! I've come to tell you I'se done lef' dis place."
+
+My wife turned her head a moment. "But why, Gladolia?"
+
+"I ain't stayin' round no place 'long wid dem Ouija board contraptions.
+I'se skeered of hoodoos. I's done gone, I is."
+
+"Is that all you've got to complain about?" Lavinia inquired.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"All right, then. Go back to the kitchen. You can use the board for
+kindling wood."
+
+"Who? Me touch dat t'ing? No, ma'am, not dis nigger!"
+
+"I'll be the coon to burn it," I shouted. "I'll be glad to burn it."
+
+Gladolia's heavy steps moved off kitchenward.
+
+Then my Lavinia turned waspishly to me again. "John, there's not a bit
+of use trying to deceive me. What is it you are trying to conceal from
+me?"
+
+"Who? Me? Oh, no," I lied elaborately, looking around to see if that
+dratted ghost was concealed enough. She was so big, and I'm rather a
+smallish man. But that was a bad move on my part.
+
+"John," Lavinia demanded like a ward boss, "you are hiding some_body_ in
+here! Who is it?"
+
+I only waved denial and gurgled in my throat. She went on, "It's bad
+enough to have you flirt over the Ouija board with that hussy----"
+
+"Oh, the affair was quite above-board, I assure you, my love!" I cried,
+leaping lithely about to keep her from focusing her gaze behind me.
+
+She thrust me back with sudden muscle. "_I will_ see who's behind you!
+Where is that Helen?"
+
+"Me? I'm Helen," came from the ghost.
+
+Lavinia looked at that apparition, that owl-eyed phantom, in plaid skirt
+and stiff shirtwaist, with hair skewed back and no powder on her nose. I
+threw a protecting husbandly arm about her to catch her when she should
+faint. But she didn't swoon. A broad, satisfied smile spread over her
+face.
+
+"I thought you were Helen of Troy," she murmured.
+
+"I used to be Helen of Troy, New York," said the ghost. "And now I'll be
+moving along, if you'll excuse me. See you later."
+
+With that she telescoped briskly, till we saw only a hand waving
+farewell.
+
+My Lavinia fell forgivingly into my arms. I kissed her once or twice
+fervently, and then I shoved her aside, for I felt a sudden strong
+desire to write. The sheets of paper on my desk spread invitingly before
+me.
+
+"I've got the bulliest plot for a ghost story!" I cried.
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY AND THE GHOST
+
+BY ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
+
+From the _Cosmopolitan Magazine_. By permission of John Brisben Walker
+and Rose O'Neill.
+
+
+
+
+The Lady and the Ghost
+
+BY ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
+
+
+It was some moments before the Lady became rationally convinced that
+there was something occurring in the corner of the room, and then the
+actual nature of the thing was still far from clear.
+
+"To put it as mildly as possible," she murmured, "the thing verges upon
+the uncanny"; and, leaning forward upon her silken knees, she attended
+upon the phenomenon.
+
+At first it had seemed like some faint and unexplained atmospheric
+derangement, occasioned, apparently, neither by an opened window nor by
+a door. Some papers fluttered to the floor, the fringes of the hangings
+softly waved, and, indeed, it would still have been easy to dismiss the
+matter as the effect of a vagrant draft had not the state of things
+suddenly grown unmistakably unusual. All the air of the room, it then
+appeared, rushed even with violence to the point and there underwent
+what impressed her as an aerial convulsion, in the very midst and
+well-spring of which, so great was the confusion, there seemed to appear
+at intervals almost the semblance of a shape.
+
+The silence of the room was disturbed by a book that flew open with
+fluttering leaves, the noise of a vase of violets blown over, from which
+the perfumed water dripped to the floor, and soft touchings all around
+as of a breeze passing through a chamber full of trifles.
+
+The ringlets of the Lady's hair were swept forward toward the corner
+upon which her gaze was fixed, and in which the conditions had now grown
+so tense with imminent occurrence and so rent with some inconceivable
+throe that she involuntarily rose, and, stepping forward against the
+pressure of her petticoats which were blown about her ankles, she
+impatiently thrust her hand into the----
+
+She was immediately aware that another hand had received it, though with
+a far from substantial envelopment, and for another moment what she saw
+before her trembled between something and nothing. Then from the
+precarious situation there slowly emerged into dubious view the shape of
+a young man dressed in evening clothes over which was flung a mantle of
+voluminous folds such as is worn by ghosts of fashion.
+
+"The very deuce was in it!" he complained; "I thought I should never
+materialize."
+
+She flung herself into her chair, confounded; yet, even in the shock of
+the emergency, true to herself, she did not fail to smooth her ruffled
+locks.
+
+Her visitor had been scanning his person in a dissatisfied way, and with
+some vexation he now ejaculated: "Beg your pardon, my dear, but are my
+feet on the floor, or where in thunder are they?"
+
+It was with a tone of reassurance that she confessed that his
+patent-leathers were the trivial matter of two or three inches from the
+rug. Whereupon, with still another effort, he brought himself down until
+his feet rested decently upon the floor. It was only when he walked
+about to examine the bric-à-brac that a suspicious lightness was
+discernible in his tread.
+
+When he had composed himself by the survey, effecting it with an air of
+great insouciance, which, however, failed to conceal the fact that his
+heart was beating somewhat wildly, he approached the Lady.
+
+"Well, here we are again, my love!" he cried, and devoured her hands
+with ghostly kisses. "It seems an eternity that I've been struggling
+back to you through the outer void and what-not. Sometimes, I confess I
+all but despaired. Life is not, I assure you, all beer and skittles for
+the disembodied."
+
+He drew a long breath, and his gaze upon her and the entire chamber
+seemed to envelop all and cherish it.
+
+"Little room, little room! And so you are thus! Do you know," he
+continued, with vivacity, "I have wondered about it in the grave, and I
+could hardly sleep for this place unpenetrated. Heigho! What a lot of
+things we leave undone! I dashed this off at the time, the literary
+passion strong in me, thus:
+
+    "Now, when all is done, and I lie so low,
+      I cannot sleep for this, my only care;
+    For though of that dim place I could not know;
+      That where my heart was fain I did not go,
+        Nor saw you musing there!
+
+"Well, well, these things irk a ghost so. Naturally, as soon as possible
+I made my way back--to be satisfied--to be satisfied that you were still
+mine." He bent a piercing look upon her.
+
+"I observe by the calendar on your writing-table that some years have
+elapsed since my----um----since I expired," he added, with a faint
+blush. It appears that the matter of their dissolution is, in
+conversation, rather kept in the background by well-bred ghosts.
+
+"Heigho! How time does fly! You'll be joining me soon, my dear."
+
+She drew herself splendidly up, and he was aware of her beauty in the
+full of its tenacious excellence--of the delicate insolence of Life
+looking upon Death--of the fact _that she had forgotten him_.
+
+He rose, and confronted this, his trembling hands thrust into his
+pockets, then turned away to hide the dismay of his countenance. He was,
+however, a spook of considerable spirit, and in a jiffy he met the
+occasion. To her blank, indignant gaze he drew a card from his case,
+and, taking a pencil from the secretary, wrote, beneath the name:
+
+    Quiet to the breast
+      Wheresoe'er it be,
+    That gave an hour's rest
+      To the heart of me.
+    Quiet to the breast
+      Till it lieth dead,
+    And the heart be clay
+      Where I visited.
+    Quiet to the breast,
+      Though forgetting quite
+    The guest it sheltered once;
+      To the heart, good night!
+
+Handing her the card he bowed, and, through force of habit, turned to
+the door, forgetting that his ghostly pressure would not turn the knob.
+
+As the door did not open, with a sigh of recollection for his spiritual
+condition, he prepared to disappear, casting one last look at the
+faithless Lady. She was still looking at the card in her hand, and the
+tears ran down her face.
+
+"She has remembered," he reflected; "how courteous!" For a moment it
+seemed he could contain his disappointment, discreetly removing himself
+now at what he felt was the vanishing-point, with the customary
+reticence of the dead, but feeling overcame him. In an instant he had
+her in his arms, and was pouring out his love, his reproaches, the story
+of his longing, his doubts, his discontent, and his desperate journey
+back to earth for a sight of her. "And, ah!" cried he, "picture my agony
+at finding that you had forgotten. And yet I surmised it in the gloom.
+I divined it by my restlessness and my despair. Perhaps some lines that
+occurred to me will suggest the thing to you--you recall my old knack
+for versification?
+
+    "Where the grasses weep
+      O'er his darkling bed,
+    And the glow-worms creep,
+      Lies the weary head
+    Of one laid deep, who cannot sleep:
+      The unremembered dead."
+
+He took a chair beside her, and spoke of their old love for each other,
+of his fealty through all transmutations; incidentally of her beauty, of
+her cruelty, of the light of her face which had illumined his darksome
+way to her--and of a lot of other things--and the Lady bowed her head,
+and wept.
+
+The hours of the night passed thus: the moon waned, and a pallor began
+to tinge the dusky cheek of the east, but the eloquence of the visitor
+still flowed on, and the Lady had his misty hands clasped to her
+reawakened bosom. At last a suspicion of rosiness touched the curtain.
+He abruptly rose.
+
+"I cannot hold out against the morning," he said; "it is time all good
+ghosts were in bed."
+
+But she threw herself on her knees before him, clasping his ethereal
+waist with a despairing embrace.
+
+"Oh, do not leave me," she cried, "or my love will kill me!"
+
+He bent eagerly above her. "Say it again--convince me!"
+
+"I love you," she cried, again and again and again, with such an anguish
+of sincerity as would convince the most skeptical spook that ever
+revisited the glimpses of the moon.
+
+"You will forget again," he said.
+
+"I shall never forget!" she cried. "My life will henceforth be one
+continual remembrance of you, one long act of devotion to your memory,
+one oblation, one unceasing penitence, one agony of waiting!"
+
+He lifted her face, and saw that it was true.
+
+"Well," said he, gracefully wrapping his cloak about him, "well, now I
+shall have a little peace."
+
+He kissed her, with a certain jaunty grace, upon her hair, and prepared
+to dissolve, while he lightly tapped a tattoo upon his leg with the
+dove-colored gloves he carried.
+
+"Good-by, my dear!" he said; "henceforth I shall sleep o' nights; my
+heart is quite at rest."
+
+"But mine is breaking," she wailed, madly trying once more to clasp his
+vanishing form.
+
+He threw her a kiss from his misty finger-tips, and all that remained
+with her, besides her broken heart, was a faint disturbance of the air.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Page 25--Possible typo, but left it as the original. "...and contented
+himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in =list=
+slippers,..."
+
+Page 25--arquebuse--printer typo corrected to arquebus.
+
+Page 231--setting--printer typo corrected to sitting.
+
+Page 255--missing word "have" inserted to: "But now I'll none of you,
+for you've played with me."
+
+Page 304--Potential typo. "...walkin' round an' round the graveyard
+=lie= a six days' race fer the belt at Madison Square."
+
+Page 325--inpatient--typo corrected to impatient. Although inpatient is
+a valid word, it is incorrectly used in this instance.
+
+Page 345--is--printer typo corrected to in.
+
+Page 408--Possible typo, but left it as in the original. "...then the
+=affection= spread to her knees and gradually extended upward."
+
+Several instances of variant spelling of reci-pe and recipe. Left as in
+the original.
+
+
+
+
+From
+A Southern Porch
+
+By
+
+Dorothy Scarborough
+
+_A Book of Whimsy_
+
+The author does not preach the lost art of loafing. No! Nothing so
+direct as preaching. She merely loafs,--consistently, restfully,
+delightfully, but with an almost fatal hypnotic persuasiveness. She is a
+sort of stationary Pied Piper, luring the unwary reader to her
+sun-flecked porch, to watch with her the queer procession of created
+things go by,--from lovers and ghosts to lizards and toads.
+
+Under the spell, convinced that loafing is better than doing, the reader
+stays and chuckles over the quiet humor and quaint fancies. He gets away
+finally,--all delightful experiences must end in this work-a-day
+world,--still chuckling, but with a renewed sense of life and life's
+values.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+G. P. Putnam's Sons
+
+New York London
+
+
+
+
+The
+Kiltartan
+Poetry Book
+
+_Prose Translations from the Irish_
+
+By
+
+Lady Gregory
+
+Author of "Irish Folk-History Plays," "Seven Short
+Plays," "Our Irish Theatre," etc.
+
+Certainly no single individual has done more than Lady Gregory to revive
+the Irish Literature, and to bring again to light the brave old legends,
+the old heroic poems. From her childhood, the author has studied this
+ancient language, and has collected most of her material from close
+association with the peasants who have inherited these poems and tales.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+G. P. Putnam's Sons
+
+New York London
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Humorous Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES ***
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Humorous Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
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+Title: Humorous Ghost Stories
+
+Author: Dorothy Scarborough
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26950]
+
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+
+
+<h1>HUMOROUS GHOST<br />
+STORIES</h1>
+<br />
+<h4>SELECTED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION</h4>
+<h3>BY</h3>
+<h2>DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH, <span class="smcap">Ph.D.</span></h2>
+<h5>LECTURER IN ENGLISH, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY<br />
+AUTHOR OF &ldquo;THE SUPERNATURAL IN MODERN ENGLISH FICTION,&rdquo;<br />
+&ldquo;FUGITIVE VERSES,&rdquo; &ldquo;FROM A SOUTHERN PORCH,&rdquo; ETC.<br />
+COMPILER OF &ldquo;FAMOUS MODERN GHOST STORIES&rdquo;</h5>
+<br />
+<center>G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS<br />
+NEW YORK AND LONDON<br />
+The Knickerbocker Press<br />
+1921</center>
+<br />
+<h5><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1921<br />
+BY<br />
+DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH</h5>
+
+<h6><i>Printed in the United States of America</i></h6>
+<br />
+
+
+
+<center>
+To<br />
+DR. AND MRS. JOHN T. HARRINGTON<br />
+</center>
+<div style="margin-left: 12em;">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Life flings miles and years between us,</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>It is true,&mdash;</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>But brings never to me dearer</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>Friends than you!</i><br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="The_Humorous_Ghost" id="The_Humorous_Ghost"></a>The Humorous Ghost</h2>
+
+<h3>INTRODUCTION</h3>
+
+
+<p>The humorous ghost is distinctly a modern
+character. In early literature wraiths took themselves
+very seriously, and insisted on a proper show
+of respectful fear on the part of those whom they
+honored by haunting. A mortal was expected to
+rise when a ghost entered the room, and in case he
+was slow about it, his spine gave notice of what
+etiquette demanded. In the event of outdoor apparition,
+if a man failed to bare his head in awe,
+the roots of his hair reminded him of his remissness.
+Woman has always had the advantage over
+man in such emergency, in that her locks, being
+long and pinned up, are less easily moved&mdash;which
+may explain the fact (if it be a fact!) that in fiction
+women have shown themselves more self-possessed
+in ghostly presence than men. Or possibly a
+woman knows that a masculine spook is, after all,
+only a man, and therefore may be charmed into
+helplessness, while the feminine can be seen
+through by another woman and thus disarmed.
+The majority of the comic apparitions, curiously
+enough, are masculine. You don't often find
+women wraithed in smiles&mdash;perhaps because they
+resent being made ridiculous, even after they're
+dead. Or maybe the reason lies in the fact that
+men have written most of the comic or satiric
+ghost stories, and have chivalrously spared the
+gentler shades. And there are very few funny
+child-ghosts&mdash;you might almost say none, in comparison
+with the number of grown-ups. The number
+of ghost children of any or all types is small
+proportionately&mdash;perhaps because it seems an
+unnatural thing for a child to die under any circumstances,
+while to make of him a butt for jokes
+would be unfeeling. There are a few instances,
+as in the case of the ghost baby mentioned later,
+but very few.</p>
+
+<p>Ancient ghosts were a long-faced lot. They
+didn't know how to play at all. They had been
+brought up in stern repression of frivolities as
+haunters&mdash;no matter how sportive they may have
+been in life&mdash;and in turn they cowed mortals into
+a servile submission. No doubt they thought of
+men and women as mere youngsters that must be
+taught their place, since any living person, however
+senile, would be thought juvenile compared with a
+timeless spook.</p>
+
+<p>But in these days of individualism and radical
+liberalism, spooks as well as mortals are expanding
+their personalities and indulging in greater freedom.
+A ghost can call his shade his own now, and
+exhibit any mood he pleases. Even young female
+wraiths, demanding latchkeys, refuse to obey the
+frowning face of the clock, and engage in light-hearted
+ebullience to make the ghost of Mrs.
+Grundy turn a shade paler in horror. Nowadays
+haunters have more fun and freedom than the
+haunted. In fact, it's money in one's pocket
+these days to be dead, for ghosts have no rent
+problems, and dead men pay no bills. What
+officer would willingly pursue a ghostly tenant to
+his last lodging in order to serve summons on him?
+And suppose a ghost brought into court demanded
+trial by a jury of his peers? No&mdash;manifestly
+death has compensations not connected with the
+consolations of religion.</p>
+
+<p>The marvel is that apparitions were so long in
+realizing their possibilities, in improving their
+advantages. The specters in classic and medieval
+literature were malarial, vaporous beings without
+energy to do anything but threaten, and mortals
+never would have trembled with fear at their frown
+if they had known how feeble they were. At best
+a revenant could only rattle a rusty skeleton, or
+shake a moldy shroud, or clank a chain&mdash;but as
+mortals cowered before his demonstrations, he
+didn't worry. If he wished to evoke the extreme
+of anguish from his host, he raised a menacing arm
+and uttered a windy word or two. Now it takes
+more than that to produce a panic. The up-to-date
+ghost keeps his skeleton in a garage or some
+place where it is cleaned and oiled and kept in
+good working order. The modern wraith has
+sold his sheet to the old clo'es man, and dresses as
+in life. Now the ghost has learned to have a
+variety of good times, and he can make the living
+squirm far more satisfyingly than in the past.
+The spook of to-day enjoys making his haunted
+laugh even while he groans in terror. He knows
+that there's no weapon, no threat, in horror, to be
+compared with ridicule.</p>
+
+<p>Think what a solemn creature the Gothic ghost
+was! How little originality and initiative he
+showed and how dependent he was on his own
+atmosphere for thrills! His sole appeal was to the
+spinal column. The ghost of to-day touches the
+funny bone as well. He adds new horrors to being
+haunted, but new pleasures also. The modern
+specter can be a joyous creature on occasion, as
+he can be, when he wishes, fearsome beyond the
+dreams of classic or Gothic revenant. He has a
+keen sense of humor and loves a good joke on a
+mortal, while he can even enjoy one on himself.
+Though his fun is of comparatively recent origin&mdash;it's
+less than a century since he learned to crack
+a smile&mdash;the laughing ghost is very much alive
+and sportively active. Some of these new spooks
+are notoriously good company. Many Americans
+there are to-day who would court being haunted
+by the captain and crew of Richard Middleton's
+Ghost Ship that landed in a turnip field and dispensed
+drink till they demoralized the denizens of
+village and graveyard alike. After that show of
+spirits, the turnips in that field tasted of rum, long
+after the ghost ship had sailed away into the blue.</p>
+
+<p>The modern spook is possessed not only of
+humor but of a caustic satire as well. His jest is
+likely to have more than one point to it, and he can
+haunt so insidiously, can make himself so at home
+in his host's study or bedroom that a man actually
+welcomes a chat with him&mdash;only to find out
+too late that his human foibles have been mercilessly
+flayed. Pity the poor chap in H. C. Bunner's
+story, <i>The Interfering Spook</i>, for instance,
+who was visited nightly by a specter that repeated
+to him all the silly and trite things he had said
+during the day, a ghost, moreover, that towered
+and swelled at every hackneyed phrase, till
+finally he filled the room and burst after the young
+man proposed to his admired one, and made subsequent
+remarks. Ghosts not only have appallingly
+long memories, but they possess a mean
+advantage over the living in that they have once
+been mortal, while the men and women they haunt
+haven't yet been ghosts. Suppose each one of us
+were to be haunted by his own inane utterances?
+True, we're told that we'll have to give account
+Some Day for every idle word, but recording angels
+seem more sympathetic than a sneering ghost at
+one's elbow. Ghosts can satirize more fittingly
+than anyone else the absurdities of certain psychic
+claims, as witness the delightful seriousness of
+the story <i>Back from that Bourne</i>, which appeared
+as a front page news story in the New York <i>Sun</i>
+years ago. I should think that some of the futile,
+laggard messenger-boy ghosts that one reads about
+nowadays would blush with shame before the
+wholesome raillery of the porgy fisherman.</p>
+
+<p>The modern humorous ghost satirizes everything
+from the old-fashioned specter (he's very
+fond of taking pot-shots at him) to the latest
+psychic manifestations. He laughs at ghosts
+that aren't experts in efficiency haunting, and he
+has a lot of fun out of mortals for being scared of
+specters. He loves to shake the lugubrious terrors
+of the past before you, exposing their hollow
+futility, and he contrives to create new fears for
+you magically while you are laughing at him.</p>
+
+<p>The new ghost hates conventionality and uses
+the old thrills only to show what dead batteries
+they come from. His really electrical effects are
+his own inventions. He needs no dungeon keeps
+and monkish cells to play about in&mdash;not he! He
+demands no rag nor bone nor clank of chain of his
+old equipment to start on his career. He can
+start up a moving picture show of his own, as in
+Ruth McEnery Stuart's <i>The Haunted Photograph</i>,
+and demonstrate a new kind of apparition. The
+ghost story of to-day gives you spinal sensations
+with a difference, as in the immortal <i>Transferred
+Ghost</i>, by Frank R. Stockton, where the suitor on
+the moonlit porch, attempting to tell his fair
+one that he dotes on her, sees the ghost of her
+ferocious uncle (who isn't dead!) kicking his heels
+against the railing, and hears his admonition that
+he'd better hurry up, as the live uncle is coming in
+sight. The thrill with which you read of the ghost
+in Ellis Parker Butler's <i>The Late John Wiggins</i>,
+who deposits his wooden leg with the family he is
+haunting, on the plea that it is too materialistic to
+be worn with ease, and therefore they must take
+care of it for him, doesn't altogether leave you
+even when you discover that the late John is a
+fraud, has never been a ghost nor used a wooden
+leg. But a terrifying leg-acy while you do believe
+in it!</p>
+
+<p>The new ghost has a more nimble and versatile
+tongue as well as wit. In the older fiction and
+drama apparitions spoke seldom, and then merely
+as <i>ghosts</i>, not as individuals. And ghosts, like
+kings in drama, were of a dignity and must preserve
+it in their speech. Or perhaps the authors
+were doubtful as to the dialogue of shades, and
+compromised on a few stately ejaculations as being
+safely phantasmal speaking parts. But compare
+that usage with the rude freedom of some modern
+spooks, as John Kendrick Bangs's spectral cook of
+Bangletop, who lets fall her h's and twists grammar
+in a rare and diverting manner. For myself, I'd
+hate to be an old-fashioned ghost with no chance
+to keep up with the styles in slang. Think of
+having always&mdash;and always&mdash;to speak a dead
+language!</p>
+
+<p>The humorous ghost is not only modern, but he
+is distinctively American. There are ghosts of all
+nationalities, naturally, but the spook that provides
+a joke&mdash;on his host or on himself&mdash;is Yankee
+in origin and development. The dry humor, the
+comic sense of the incongruous, the willingness to
+laugh at himself as at others, carry over into
+immaterialization as characteristic American
+qualities and are preserved in their true flavor.
+I don't assert, of course, that Americans have been
+the only ones in this field. The French and English
+selections in this volume are sufficient to
+prove the contrary. Gautier's <i>The Mummy's
+Foot</i> has a humor of a lightness and grace as delicate
+as the princess's little foot itself. There are
+various English stories of whimsical haunting,
+some of actual spooks and some of the hoax type.
+Hoax ghosts are fairly numerous in British as in
+American literature, one of the early specimens of
+the kind being <i>The Specter of Tappington</i> in the
+<i>Ingoldsby Legends</i>. The files of <i>Blackwood's
+Magazine</i> reveal several examples, though not of
+high literary value.</p>
+
+<p>Of the early specimens of the really amusing
+ghost that is an actual revenant is <i>The Ghost Baby</i>,
+in <i>Blackwood's</i>, which shows originality and humor,
+yet is too diffuse for printing here. In that we
+have a conventional young bachelor, engaged to a
+charming girl, who is entangled in social complications
+and made to suffer mental torment because,
+without his consent, he has been chosen as the
+nurse and guardian of a ghost baby that cradles
+after him wherever he goes. This is a rich story
+almost spoiled by being poorly told. I sigh to
+think of the laughs that Frank R. Stockton or
+John Kendrick Bangs or Gelett Burgess could
+have got out of the situation. There are other
+comic British spooks, as in Baring-Gould's <i>A
+Happy Release</i>, where a widow and a widower in
+love are haunted by the jealous ghosts of their
+respective spouses, till the phantom couple take
+a liking to each other and decide to let the living
+bury their dead. This is suggestive of Brander
+Matthews's earlier and cleverer story of a spectral
+courtship, in <i>The Rival Ghosts</i>. Medieval and
+later literature gave us many instances of a love
+affair or marriage between one spirit and one mortal,
+but it remained for the modern American to
+celebrate the nuptials of two ghosts. Think of
+being married when you know that you and the
+other party are going to live ever after&mdash;whether
+happily or no! Truly, the present terrors are
+more fearsome than the old!</p>
+
+<p>The stories by Eden Phillpotts and Richard
+Middleton in this collection show the diversity of
+the English humor as associated with apparitions,
+and are entertaining in themselves. The <i>Canterville
+Ghost</i>, by Oscar Wilde, is one of his best
+short stories and is in his happiest vein of laughing
+satire. This travesty on the conventional traditions
+of the wraith is preposterously delightful,
+one of the cleverest ghost stories in our language.
+Zangwill has written engagingly of spooks, with
+a laughable story about Samuel Johnson. And
+there are others. But the fact remains that in
+spite of conceded and admirable examples, the
+humorous ghost story is for the most part American
+in creation and spirit. Washington Irving
+might be said to have started that fashion in
+skeletons and shades, for he has given us various
+comic haunters, some real and some make-believe.
+Frank R. Stockton gave his to funny spooks with a
+riotous and laughing pen. The spirit in his <i>Transferred
+Ghost</i> is impudently deathless, and has
+called up a train of subsequent haunters. John
+Kendrick Bangs has made the darker regions seem
+comfortable and homelike for us, and has created
+ghosts so human and so funny that we look forward
+to being one&mdash;or more. We feel downright
+neighborly toward such specters as the futile &ldquo;last
+ghost&rdquo; Nelson Lloyd evokes for us, as we appreciate
+the satire of Rose O'Neill's sophisticated wraith.
+The daring concept of Gelett Burgess's Ghost Extinguisher
+is altogether American. The field is still
+comparatively limited, but a number of Americans
+have done distinctive work in it. The
+specter now wears motley instead of a shroud,
+and shakes his jester's bells the while he rattles his
+bones. I dare any, however grouchy, reader to
+finish the stories in this volume without having
+a kindlier feeling toward ghosts!</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right;">D. S.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>,<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>March, 1921</i>.</span></p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+<a name="toc" id="toc"></a>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents" width="50%">
+<tr>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td align='left'><span class="smcap"><a href="#The_Humorous_Ghost">Introduction: The Humorous Ghost</a></span></td>
+  <td align='right'>vii</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'>&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_CANTERVILLE_GHOST"><span class="smcap">The Canterville Ghost</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>3</td>
+</tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Oscar Wilde</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_GHOST-EXTINGUISHER"><span class="smcap">The Ghost-Extinguisher</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>51</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Gelett Burgess</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#DEY_AINT_NO_GHOSTS"><span class="smcap">&ldquo;Dey Ain't No Ghosts&rdquo;</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>69</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Ellis Parker Butler</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_TRANSFERRED_GHOST"><span class="smcap">The Transferred Ghost</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>89</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Frank R. Stockton</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_MUMMYS_FOOT"><span class="smcap">The Mummy's Foot</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>109</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Th&eacute;ophile Gautier</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_RIVAL_GHOSTS"><span class="smcap">The Rival Ghosts</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>129</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Brander Matthews</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_WATER_GHOST_OF_HARROWBY_HALL"><span class="smcap">The Water Ghost of Harrowby Hall</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>159</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By John Kendrick Bangs</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#BACK_FROM_THAT_BOURNE"><span class="smcap">Back from that Bourne</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>175</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">Anonymous</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_GHOST-SHIP"><span class="smcap">The Ghost-Ship</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>187</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Richard Middleton</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_TRANSPLANTED_GHOST"><span class="smcap">The Transplanted Ghost</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>205</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Wallace Irwin</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_LAST_GHOST_IN_HARMONY"><span class="smcap">The Last Ghost in Harmony</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>229</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Nelson Lloyd</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_GHOST_OF_MISER_BRIMPSON"><span class="smcap">The Ghost of Miser Brimpson</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>247</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Eden Phillpotts</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_HAUNTED_PHOTOGRAPH"><span class="smcap">The Haunted Photograph</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>275</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Ruth McEnery Stuart</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_GHOST_THAT_GOT_THE_BUTTON"><span class="smcap">The Ghost that Got the Button</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>295</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Will Adams</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_SPECTER_BRIDEGROOM"><span class="smcap">The Specter Bridegroom</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>315</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Washington Irving</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_SPECTER_OF_TAPPINGTON"><span class="smcap">The Specter of Tappington</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>341</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">Compiled by Richard Barham</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#IN_THE_BARN"><span class="smcap">In the Barn</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>385</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Burges Johnson</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#A_SHADY_PLOT"><span class="smcap">A Shady Plot</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>403</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Elsie Brown</span></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td align='left'><a href="#THE_LADY_AND_THE_GHOST"><span class="smcap">The Lady and the Ghost</span></a></td>
+<td align='right'>425</td></tr>
+<tr class="tdl">
+<td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Rose Cecil O'Neill</span></td>
+</tr>
+</table></div>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+<h1>HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES</h1>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_CANTERVILLE_GHOST" id="THE_CANTERVILLE_GHOST"></a>THE CANTERVILLE GHOST</h3>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class="hang"><i>An amusing chronicle of the tribulations of the Ghost of
+Canterville Chase when his ancestral halls became
+the home of the American Minister to the Court of
+St. James.</i></p></div>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">By OSCAR WILDE</span></h4>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+
+
+<h2>The Canterville Ghost</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By OSCAR WILDE</span></h4>
+
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<p>When Mr. Hiram B. Otis, the American Minister,
+bought Canterville Chase, everyone told him
+he was doing a very foolish thing, as there was no
+doubt at all that the place was haunted. Indeed,
+Lord Canterville himself, who was a man of the
+most punctilious honor, had felt it his duty to
+mention the fact to Mr. Otis when they came to
+discuss terms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have not cared to live in the place ourselves,&rdquo;
+said Lord Canterville, &ldquo;since my grand-aunt,
+the Dowager Duchess of Bolton, was
+frightened into a fit, from which she never really
+recovered, by two skeleton hands being placed on
+her shoulders as she was dressing for dinner, and I
+feel bound to tell you, Mr. Otis, that the ghost has
+been seen by several living members of my family,
+as well as by the rector of the parish, the Rev. Augustus
+Dampier, who is a Fellow of King's College,
+Cambridge. After the unfortunate accident to the
+Duchess, none of our younger servants would stay
+with us, and Lady Canterville often got very little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>
+sleep at night, in consequence of the mysterious
+noises that came from the corridor and the
+library.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My Lord,&rdquo; answered the Minister, &ldquo;I will
+take the furniture and the ghost at a valuation. I
+have come from a modern country, where we have
+everything that money can buy; and with all our
+spry young fellows painting the Old World red,
+and carrying off your best actors and prima-donnas,
+I reckon that if there were such a thing as
+a ghost in Europe, we'd have it at home in a very
+short time in one of our public museums, or on the
+road as a show.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I fear that the ghost exists,&rdquo; said Lord Canterville,
+smiling, &ldquo;though it may have resisted the
+overtures of your enterprising impresarios. It has
+been well known for three centuries, since 1584 in
+fact, and always makes its appearance before the
+death of any member of our family.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, so does the family doctor for that matter,
+Lord Canterville. But there is no such thing, sir,
+as a ghost, and I guess the laws of Nature are not
+going to be suspended for the British aristocracy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are certainly very natural in America,&rdquo;
+answered Lord Canterville, who did not quite
+understand Mr. Otis's last observation, &ldquo;and if you
+don't mind a ghost in the house, it is all right.
+Only you must remember I warned you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A few weeks after this, the purchase was concluded,
+and at the close of the season the Minister
+and his family went down to Canterville Chase.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>
+Mrs. Otis, who, as Miss Lucretia R. Tappan, of
+West 53d Street, had been a celebrated New York
+belle, was now a very handsome, middle-aged
+woman, with fine eyes, and a superb profile. Many
+American ladies on leaving their native land adopt
+an appearance of chronic ill-health, under the
+impression that it is a form of European refinement,
+but Mrs. Otis had never fallen into this
+error. She had a magnificent constitution, and a
+really wonderful amount of animal spirits. Indeed,
+in many respects, she was quite English, and
+was an excellent example of the fact that we have
+really everything in common with America nowadays,
+except, of course, language. Her eldest son,
+christened Washington by his parents in a moment
+of patriotism, which he never ceased to regret, was
+a fair-haired, rather good-looking young man, who
+had qualified himself for American diplomacy by
+leading the German at the Newport Casino for
+three successive seasons, and even in London was
+well known as an excellent dancer. Gardenias and
+the peerage were his only weaknesses. Otherwise
+he was extremely sensible. Miss Virginia E. Otis
+was a little girl of fifteen, lithe and lovely as a fawn,
+and with a fine freedom in her large blue eyes.
+She was a wonderful Amazon, and had once raced
+old Lord Bilton on her pony twice round the park,
+winning by a length and a half, just in front of the
+Achilles statue, to the huge delight of the young
+Duke of Cheshire, who proposed for her on the
+spot, and was sent back to Eton that very night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+by his guardians, in floods of tears. After Virginia
+came the twins, who were usually called &ldquo;The Stars
+and Stripes,&rdquo; as they were always getting swished.
+They were delightful boys, and, with the exception
+of the worthy Minister, the only true republicans
+of the family.</p>
+
+<p>As Canterville Chase is seven miles from Ascot,
+the nearest railway station, Mr. Otis had telegraphed
+for a wagonette to meet them, and they
+started on their drive in high spirits. It was a
+lovely July evening, and the air was delicate with
+the scent of the pinewoods. Now and then they
+heard a wood-pigeon brooding over its own sweet
+voice, or saw, deep in the rustling fern, the burnished
+breast of the pheasant. Little squirrels
+peered at them from the beech-trees as they went
+by, and the rabbits scudded away through the
+brushwood and over the mossy knolls, with their
+white tails in the air. As they entered the avenue
+of Canterville Chase, however, the sky became
+suddenly overcast with clouds, a curious stillness
+seemed to hold the atmosphere, a great flight of
+rooks passed silently over their heads, and, before
+they reached the house, some big drops of rain had
+fallen.</p>
+
+<p>Standing on the steps to receive them was an
+old woman, neatly dressed in black silk, with a
+white cap and apron. This was Mrs. Umney, the
+housekeeper, whom Mrs. Otis, at Lady Canterville's
+earnest request, had consented to keep in
+her former position. She made them each a low<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+curtsy as they alighted, and said in a quaint, old-fashioned
+manner, &ldquo;I bid you welcome to Canterville
+Chase.&rdquo; Following her, they passed through
+the fine Tudor hall into the library, a long, low
+room, paneled in black oak, at the end of which
+was a large stained glass window. Here they found
+tea laid out for them, and, after taking off their
+wraps, they sat down and began to look round,
+while Mrs. Umney waited on them.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Mrs. Otis caught sight of a dull red
+stain on the floor just by the fireplace, and, quite
+unconscious of what it really signified, said to Mrs.
+Umney, &ldquo;I am afraid something has been spilled
+there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, madam,&rdquo; replied the old housekeeper in a
+low voice, &ldquo;blood has been spilled on that spot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How horrid!&rdquo; cried Mrs. Otis; &ldquo;I don't at all
+care for blood-stains in a sitting-room. It must be
+removed at once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman smiled, and answered in the same
+low, mysterious voice, &ldquo;It is the blood of Lady
+Eleanore de Canterville, who was murdered on that
+very spot by her own husband, Sir Simon de Canterville,
+in 1575. Sir Simon survived her nine
+years, and disappeared suddenly under very mysterious
+circumstances. His body has never been
+discovered, but his guilty spirit still haunts the
+Chase. The blood-stain has been much admired
+by tourists and others, and cannot be removed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is all nonsense,&rdquo; cried Washington Otis;
+&ldquo;Pinkerton's Champion Stain Remover and Paragon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+Detergent will clean it up in no time,&rdquo; and
+before the terrified housekeeper could interfere,
+he had fallen upon his knees, and was rapidly scouring
+the floor with a small stick of what looked like
+a black cosmetic. In a few moments no trace of
+the blood-stain could be seen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I knew Pinkerton would do it,&rdquo; he exclaimed,
+triumphantly, as he looked round at his admiring
+family; but no sooner had he said these words than
+a terrible flash of lightning lit up the somber room,
+a fearful peal of thunder made them all start to
+their feet, and Mrs. Umney fainted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What a monstrous climate!&rdquo; said the American
+Minister, calmly, as he lit a long cheroot. &ldquo;I
+guess the old country is so overpopulated that they
+have not enough decent weather for everybody.
+I have always been of opinion that emigration is
+the only thing for England.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Hiram,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Otis, &ldquo;what can
+we do with a woman who faints?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Charge it to her like breakages,&rdquo; answered the
+Minister; &ldquo;she won't faint after that&rdquo;; and in a
+few moments Mrs. Umney certainly came to.
+There was no doubt, however, that she was extremely
+upset, and she sternly warned Mr. Otis to
+beware of some trouble coming to the house.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have seen things with my own eyes, sir,&rdquo; she
+said, &ldquo;that would make any Christian's hair stand
+on end, and many and many a night I have not
+closed my eyes in sleep for the awful things that
+are done here.&rdquo; Mr. Otis, however, and his wife<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
+warmly assured the honest soul that they were not
+afraid of ghosts, and, after invoking the blessings
+of Providence on her new master and mistress, and
+making arrangements for an increase of salary, the
+old housekeeper tottered off to her own room.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>The storm raged fiercely all that night, but
+nothing of particular note occurred. The next
+morning, however, when they came down to breakfast,
+they found the terrible stain of blood once
+again on the floor. &ldquo;I don't think it can be the
+fault of the Paragon Detergent,&rdquo; said Washington,
+&ldquo;for I have tried it with everything. It must
+be the ghost.&rdquo; He accordingly rubbed out the
+stain a second time, but the second morning it
+appeared again. The third morning also it was
+there, though the library had been locked up at
+night by Mr. Otis himself, and the key carried upstairs.
+The whole family were now quite interested;
+Mr. Otis began to suspect that he had
+been too dogmatic in his denial of the existence of
+ghosts, Mrs. Otis expressed her intention of joining
+the Psychical Society, and Washington prepared a
+long letter to Messrs. Myers and Podmore on the
+subject of the Permanence of Sanguineous Stains
+when connected with Crime. That night all doubts
+about the objective existence of phantasmata were
+removed forever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The day had been warm and sunny; and, in the
+cool of the evening, the whole family went out to
+drive. They did not return home till nine o'clock,
+when they had a light supper. The conversation
+in no way turned upon ghosts, so there were not
+even those primary conditions of receptive expectations
+which so often precede the presentation of
+psychical phenomena. The subjects discussed, as
+I have since learned from Mr. Otis, were merely
+such as form the ordinary conversation of cultured
+Americans of the better class, such as the immense
+superiority of Miss Fanny Devonport over Sarah
+Bernhardt as an actress; the difficulty of obtaining
+green corn, buckwheat cakes, and hominy, even in
+the best English houses; the importance of Boston
+in the development of the world-soul; the advantages
+of the baggage-check system in railway traveling;
+and the sweetness of the New York accent
+as compared to the London drawl. No mention
+at all was made of the supernatural, nor was Sir
+Simon de Canterville alluded to in any way. At
+eleven o'clock the family retired, and by half-past
+all the lights were out. Some time after, Mr. Otis
+was awakened by a curious noise in the corridor,
+outside his room. It sounded like the clank of
+metal, and seemed to be coming nearer every
+moment. He got up at once, struck a match, and
+looked at the time. It was exactly one o'clock.
+He was quite calm, and felt his pulse, which was
+not at all feverish. The strange noise still continued,
+and with it he heard distinctly the sound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
+of footsteps. He put on his slippers, took a small
+oblong phial out of his dressing-case, and opened
+the door. Right in front of him he saw, in the wan
+moonlight, an old man of terrible aspect. His eyes
+were as red burning coals; long gray hair fell over
+his shoulders in matted coils; his garments, which
+were of antique cut, were soiled and ragged, and
+from his wrists and ankles hung heavy manacles
+and rusty gyves.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear sir,&rdquo; said Mr. Otis, &ldquo;I really must
+insist on your oiling those chains, and have brought
+you for that purpose a small bottle of the Tammany
+Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely
+efficacious upon one application, and there
+are several testimonials to that effect on the wrapper
+from some of our most eminent native divines.
+I shall leave it here for you by the bedroom candles,
+and will be happy to supply you with more, should
+you require it.&rdquo; With these words the United
+States Minister laid the bottle down on a marble
+table, and, closing his door, retired to rest.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the Canterville ghost stood quite
+motionless in natural indignation; then, dashing
+the bottle violently upon the polished floor, he fled
+down the corridor, uttering hollow groans, and
+emitting a ghastly green light. Just, however, as
+he reached the top of the great oak staircase, a
+door was flung open, two little white-robed figures
+appeared, and a large pillow whizzed past his head!
+There was evidently no time to be lost, so, hastily
+adopting the Fourth dimension of Space as a means<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+of escape, he vanished through the wainscoting,
+and the house became quite quiet.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching a small secret chamber in the left
+wing, he leaned up against a moonbeam to recover
+his breath, and began to try and realize his position.
+Never, in a brilliant and uninterrupted career of
+three hundred years, had he been so grossly insulted.
+He thought of the Dowager Duchess,
+whom he had frightened into a fit as she stood before
+the glass in her lace and diamonds; of the four
+housemaids, who had gone into hysterics when he
+merely grinned at them through the curtains on
+one of the spare bedrooms; of the rector of the
+parish, whose candle he had blown out as he was
+coming late one night from the library, and who
+had been under the care of Sir William Gull ever
+since, a perfect martyr to nervous disorders; and of
+old Madame de Tremouillac, who, having wakened
+up one morning early and seen a skeleton seated in
+an arm-chair by the fire reading her diary, had been
+confined to her bed for six weeks with an attack
+of brain fever, and, on her recovery, had become
+reconciled to the Church, and broken off her connection
+with that notorious skeptic, Monsieur de
+Voltaire. He remembered the terrible night when
+the wicked Lord Canterville was found choking
+in his dressing-room, with the knave of diamonds
+halfway down his throat, and confessed, just
+before he died, that he had cheated Charles James
+Fox out of &pound;50,000 at Crockford's by means of
+that very card, and swore that the ghost had made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+him swallow it. All his great achievements came
+back to him again, from the butler who had shot
+himself in the pantry because he had seen a green
+hand tapping at the windowpane, to the beautiful
+Lady Stutfield, who was always obliged to wear a
+black velvet band round her throat to hide the
+mark of five fingers burnt upon her white skin, and
+who drowned herself at last in the carp-pond at the
+end of the King's Walk. With the enthusiastic
+egotism of the true artist, he went over his most
+celebrated performances, and smiled bitterly to
+himself as he recalled to mind his last appearance
+as &ldquo;Red Reuben, or the Strangled Babe,&rdquo; his <i>d&eacute;but</i>
+as &ldquo;Gaunt Gibeon, the Blood-sucker of Bexley
+Moor,&rdquo; and the <i>furore</i> he had excited one lovely
+June evening by merely playing ninepins with his
+own bones upon the lawn-tennis ground. And
+after all this some wretched modern Americans
+were to come and offer him the Rising Sun Lubricator,
+and throw pillows at his head! It was quite
+unbearable. Besides, no ghost in history had ever
+been treated in this manner. Accordingly, he determined
+to have vengeance, and remained till
+daylight in an attitude of deep thought.</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>The next morning, when the Otis family met at
+breakfast, they discussed the ghost at some length.
+The United States Minister was naturally a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+annoyed to find that his present had not been
+accepted. &ldquo;I have no wish,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to do the
+ghost any personal injury, and I must say that,
+considering the length of time he has been in the
+house, I don't think it is at all polite to throw pillows
+at him,&rdquo;&mdash;a very just remark, at which, I am
+sorry to say, the twins burst into shouts of laughter.
+&ldquo;Upon the other hand,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;if he
+really declines to use the Rising Sun Lubricator,
+we shall have to take his chains from him. It
+would be quite impossible to sleep, with such a
+noise going on outside the bedrooms.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>For the rest of the week, however, they were
+undisturbed, the only thing that excited any attention
+being the continual renewal of the blood-stain
+on the library floor. This certainly was very
+strange, as the door was always locked at night by
+Mr. Otis, and the windows kept closely barred.
+The chameleon-like color, also, of the stain excited
+a good deal of comment. Some mornings it
+was a dull (almost Indian) red, then it would be
+vermilion, then a rich purple, and once when they
+came down for family prayers, according to the
+simple rites of the Free American Reformed Episcopalian
+Church, they found it a bright emerald-green.
+These kaleidoscopic changes naturally
+amused the party very much, and bets on the subject
+were freely made every evening. The only
+person who did not enter into the joke was little
+Virginia, who, for some unexplained reason, was
+always a good deal distressed at the sight of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+blood-stain, and very nearly cried the morning it
+was emerald-green.</p>
+
+<p>The second appearance of the ghost was on Sunday
+night. Shortly after they had gone to bed
+they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful crash in
+the hall. Rushing downstairs, they found that a
+large suit of old armor had become detached from
+its stand, and had fallen on the stone floor, while
+seated in a high-backed chair was the Canterville
+ghost, rubbing his knees with an expression of
+acute agony on his face. The twins, having
+brought their pea-shooters with them, at once discharged
+two pellets on him, with that accuracy of
+aim which can only be attained by long and careful
+practice on a writing-master, while the United
+States Minister covered him with his revolver,
+and called upon him, in accordance with Californian
+etiquette, to hold up his hands! The ghost
+started up with a wild shriek of rage, and swept
+through them like a mist, extinguishing Washington
+Otis's candle as he passed, and so leaving them
+all in total darkness. On reaching the top of the
+staircase he recovered himself, and determined to
+give his celebrated peal of demoniac laughter.
+This he had on more than one occasion found extremely
+useful. It was said to have turned Lord
+Raker's wig gray in a single night, and had certainly
+made three of Lady Canterville's French
+governesses give warning before their month was
+up. He accordingly laughed his most horrible
+laugh, till the old vaulted roof rang and rang again,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+but hardly had the fearful echo died away when a
+door opened, and Mrs. Otis came out in a light
+blue dressing-gown. &ldquo;I am afraid you are far from
+well,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and have brought you a bottle of
+Doctor Dobell's tincture. If it is indigestion, you
+will find it a most excellent remedy.&rdquo; The ghost
+glared at her in fury, and began at once to make
+preparations for turning himself into a large black
+dog, an accomplishment for which he was justly
+renowned, and to which the family doctor always
+attributed the permanent idiocy of Lord Canterville's
+uncle, the Hon. Thomas Horton. The sound
+of approaching footsteps, however, made him hesitate
+in his fell purpose, so he contented himself
+with becoming faintly phosphorescent, and vanished
+with a deep churchyard groan, just as the
+twins had come up to him.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching his room he entirely broke down,
+and became a prey to the most violent agitation.
+The vulgarity of the twins, and the gross materialism
+of Mrs. Otis, were naturally extremely annoying,
+but what really distressed him most was that
+he had been unable to wear the suit of mail. He
+had hoped that even modern Americans would be
+thrilled by the sight of a Specter in armor, if for
+no more sensible reason, at least out of respect for
+their national poet Longfellow, over whose graceful
+and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away
+many a weary hour when the Cantervilles were up
+in town. Besides it was his own suit. He had
+worn it with great success at the Kenilworth tournament,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+and had been highly complimented on it
+by no less a person than the Virgin Queen herself.
+Yet when he had put it on, he had been completely
+overpowered by the weight of the huge
+breastplate and steel casque, and had fallen heavily
+on the stone pavement, barking both his knees
+severely, and bruising the knuckles of his right
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>For some days after this he was extremely ill,
+and hardly stirred out of his room at all, except to
+keep the blood-stain in proper repair. However,
+by taking great care of himself, he recovered, and
+resolved to make a third attempt to frighten the
+United States Minister and his family. He selected
+Friday, August 17th, for his appearance, and spent
+most of that day in looking over his wardrobe,
+ultimately deciding in favor of a large slouched
+hat with a red feather, a winding-sheet frilled at
+the wrists and neck, and a rusty dagger. Towards
+evening a violent storm of rain came on, and the
+wind was so high that all the windows and doors in
+the old house shook and rattled. In fact, it was
+just such weather as he loved. His plan of action
+was this. He was to make his way quietly to
+Washington Otis's room, gibber at him from the
+foot of the bed, and stab himself three times in the
+throat to the sound of low music. He bore Washington
+a special grudge, being quite aware that it
+was he who was in the habit of removing the
+famous Canterville blood-stain by means of Pinkerton's
+Paragon Detergent. Having reduced the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+reckless and foolhardy youth to a condition of
+abject terror, he was then to proceed to the room
+occupied by the United States Minister and his
+wife, and there to place a clammy hand on Mrs.
+Otis's forehead, while he hissed into her trembling
+husband's ear the awful secrets of the charnel-house.
+With regard to little Virginia, he had not
+quite made up his mind. She had never insulted
+him in any way, and was pretty and gentle. A
+few hollow groans from the wardrobe, he thought,
+would be more than sufficient, or, if that failed to
+wake her, he might grabble at the counterpane
+with palsy-twitching fingers. As for the twins,
+he was quite determined to teach them a lesson.
+The first thing to be done was, of course, to sit
+upon their chests, so as to produce the stifling sensation
+of nightmare. Then, as their beds were
+quite close to each other, to stand between them
+in the form of a green, icy-cold corpse, till they
+became paralyzed with fear, and finally, to throw
+off the winding-sheet, and crawl round the room,
+with white, bleached bones and one rolling eyeball
+in the character of &ldquo;Dumb Daniel, or the Suicide's
+Skeleton,&rdquo; a <i>r&ocirc;le</i> in which he had on more than one
+occasion produced a great effect, and which he
+considered quite equal to his famous part of &ldquo;Martin
+the Maniac, or the Masked Mystery.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At half-past ten he heard the family going to
+bed. For some time he was disturbed by wild
+shrieks of laughter from the twins, who, with the
+light-hearted gayety of schoolboys, were evidently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+amusing themselves before they retired to rest,
+but at a quarter-past eleven all was still, and, as
+midnight sounded, he sallied forth. The owl beat
+against the window-panes, the raven croaked from
+the old yew-tree, and the wind wandered moaning
+round the house like a lost soul; but the Otis family
+slept unconscious of their doom, and high above
+the rain and storm he could hear the steady snoring
+of the Minister for the United States. He stepped
+stealthily out of the wainscoting, with an evil smile
+on his cruel, wrinkled mouth, and the moon hid her
+face in a cloud as he stole past the great oriel
+window, where his own arms and those of his murdered
+wife were blazoned in azure and gold. On
+and on he glided, like an evil shadow, the very
+darkness seeming to loathe him as he passed. Once
+he thought he heard something call, and stopped;
+but it was only the baying of a dog from the Red
+Farm, and he went on, muttering strange sixteenth
+century curses, and ever and anon brandishing the
+rusty dagger in the midnight air. Finally he
+reached the corner of the passage that led to luckless
+Washington's room. For a moment he paused
+there, the wind blowing his long gray locks about
+his head, and twisting into grotesque and fantastic
+folds the nameless horror of the dead man's shroud.
+Then the clock struck the quarter, and he felt the
+time was come. He chuckled to himself, and
+turned the corner; but no sooner had he done so
+than, with a piteous wail of terror, he fell back, and
+hid his blanched face in his long, bony hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+Right in front of him was standing a horrible
+specter, motionless as a carven image, and monstrous
+as a madman's dream! Its head was bald
+and burnished; its face round, and fat, and white;
+and hideous laughter seemed to have writhed its
+features into an eternal grin. From the eyes
+streamed rays of scarlet light, the mouth was a
+wide well of fire, and a hideous garment, like to his
+own, swathed with its silent snows the Titan form.
+On its breast was a placard with strange writing
+in antique characters, some scroll of shame it
+seemed, some record of wild sins, some awful
+calendar of crime, and, with its right hand, it bore
+aloft a falchion of gleaming steel.</p>
+
+<p>Never having seen a ghost before, he naturally
+was terribly frightened, and, after a second hasty
+glance at the awful phantom, he fled back to his
+room, tripping up in his long winding-sheet as he
+sped down the corridor, and finally dropping the
+rusty dagger into the Minister's jack-boots, where
+it was found in the morning by the butler. Once
+in the privacy of his own apartment, he flung himself
+down on a small pallet-bed, and hid his face
+under the clothes. After a time, however, the
+brave old Canterville spirit asserted itself, and he
+determined to go and speak to the other ghost as
+soon as it was daylight. Accordingly, just as the
+dawn was touching the hills with silver, he returned
+towards the spot where he had first laid
+eyes on the grisly phantom, feeling that, after all,
+two ghosts were better than one, and that, by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
+aid of his new friend, he might safely grapple with
+the twins. On reaching the spot, however, a
+terrible sight met his gaze. Something had evidently
+happened to the specter, for the light had
+entirely faded from its hollow eyes, the gleaming
+falchion had fallen from its hand, and it was leaning
+up against the wall in a strained and uncomfortable
+attitude. He rushed forward and seized
+it in his arms, when, to his horror, the head slipped
+off and rolled on the floor, the body assumed a recumbent
+posture, and he found himself clasping a
+white dimity bed-curtain, with a sweeping-brush,
+a kitchen cleaver, and a hollow turnip lying at his
+feet! Unable to understand this curious transformation,
+he clutched the placard with feverish
+haste, and there, in the gray morning light, he read
+these fearful words:</p>
+
+<div class="bbox">
+YE OTIS GHOSTE<br />
+Ye Onlie True and Originale Spook,<br />
+Beware of Ye Imitationes.<br />
+All others are counterfeite.<br />
+</div>
+
+<p class="noindent">The whole thing flashed across him. He had been
+tricked, foiled, and outwitted! The old Canterville
+look came into his eyes; he ground his toothless
+gums together; and, raising his withered hands
+high above his head, swore according to the picturesque
+phraseology of the antique school, that,
+when Chanticleer had sounded twice his merry
+horn, deeds of blood would be wrought, and murder
+walk abroad with silent feet.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>Hardly had he finished this awful oath when,
+from the red-tiled roof of a distant homestead, a
+cock crew. He laughed a long, low, bitter laugh,
+and waited. Hour after hour he waited, but the
+cock, for some strange reason, did not crow again.
+Finally, at half-past seven, the arrival of the housemaids
+made him give up his fearful vigil, and he
+stalked back to his room, thinking of his vain oath
+and baffled purpose. There he consulted several
+books of ancient chivalry, of which he was exceedingly
+fond, and found that, on every occasion on
+which this oath had been used, Chanticleer had
+always crowed a second time. &ldquo;Perdition seize
+the naughty fowl,&rdquo; he muttered, &ldquo;I have seen the
+day when, with my stout spear, I would have run
+him through the gorge, and made him crow for
+me an 'twere in death!&rdquo; He then retired to a
+comfortable lead coffin, and stayed there till
+evening.</p>
+
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<p>The next day the ghost was very weak and
+tired. The terrible excitement of the last four
+weeks was beginning to have its effect. His nerves
+were completely shattered, and he started at the
+slightest noise. For five days he kept his room,
+and at last made up his mind to give up the point
+of the blood-stain on the library floor. If the Otis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+family did not want it, they clearly did not deserve
+it. They were evidently people on a low, material
+plane of existence, and quite incapable of appreciating
+the symbolic value of sensuous phenomena.
+The question of phantasmic apparitions, and the
+development of astral bodies, was of course quite a
+different matter, and really not under his control.
+It was his solemn duty to appear in the corridor
+once a week, and to gibber from the large oriel
+window on the first and third Wednesdays in every
+month, and he did not see how he could honorably
+escape from his obligations. It is quite true
+that his life had been very evil, but, upon the other
+hand, he was most conscientious in all things connected
+with the supernatural. For the next three
+Saturdays, accordingly, he traversed the corridor
+as usual between midnight and three o'clock,
+taking every possible precaution against being
+either heard or seen. He removed his boots, trod
+as lightly as possible on the old worm-eaten boards,
+wore a large black velvet cloak, and was careful to
+use the Rising Sun Lubricator for oiling his chains.
+I am bound to acknowledge that it was with a good
+deal of difficulty that he brought himself to adopt
+this last mode of protection. However, one night,
+while the family were at dinner, he slipped into
+Mr. Otis's bedroom and carried off the bottle. He
+felt a little humiliated at first, but afterwards was
+sensible enough to see that there was a great deal
+to be said for the invention, and, to a certain degree,
+it served his purpose. Still, in spite of everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+he was not left unmolested. Strings were
+continually being stretched across the corridor,
+over which he tripped in the dark, and on one
+occasion, while dressed for the part of &ldquo;Black
+Isaac, or the Huntsman of Hogley Woods,&rdquo; he met
+with a severe fall, through treading on a butter-slide,
+which the twins had constructed from the
+entrance of the Tapestry Chamber to the top of
+the oak staircase. This last insult so enraged him
+that he resolved to make one final effort to assert
+his dignity and social position, and determined to
+visit the insolent young Etonians the next night in
+his celebrated character of &ldquo;Reckless Rupert, or
+the Headless Earl.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He had not appeared in this disguise for more
+than seventy years; in fact, not since he had so
+frightened pretty Lady Barbara Modish by means
+of it, that she suddenly broke off her engagement
+with the present Lord Canterville's grandfather,
+and ran away to Gretna Green with handsome
+Jack Castletown, declaring that nothing in the
+world would induce her to marry into a family
+that allowed such a horrible phantom to walk up
+and down the terrace at twilight. Poor Jack was
+afterwards shot in a duel by Lord Canterville on
+Wandsworth Common, and Lady Barbara died of
+a broken heart at Tunbridge Wells before the year
+was out, so, in every way, it had been a great
+success. It was, however, an extremely difficult
+&ldquo;make-up,&rdquo; if I may use such a theatrical expression
+in connection with one of the greatest mysteries<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+of the supernatural, or, to employ a more
+scientific term, the higher-natural world, and it
+took him fully three hours to make his preparations.
+At last everything was ready, and he was
+very pleased with his appearance. The big leather
+riding-boots that went with the dress were just a
+little too large for him, and he could only find one
+of the two horse-pistols, but, on the whole, he was
+quite satisfied, and at a quarter-past one he glided
+out of the wainscoting and crept down the corridor.
+On reaching the room occupied by the twins, which
+I should mention was called the Blue Bed Chamber
+on account of the color of its hangings, he found
+the door just ajar. Wishing to make an effective
+entrance, he flung it wide open, when a heavy jug
+of water fell right down on him, wetting him to the
+skin, and just missing his left shoulder by a couple
+of inches. At the same moment he heard stifled
+shrieks of laughter proceeding from the four-post
+bed. The shock to his nervous system was so great
+that he fled back to his room as hard as he could go,
+and the next day he was laid up with a severe cold.
+The only thing that at all consoled him in the
+whole affair was the fact that he had not brought
+his head with him, for, had he done so, the consequences
+might have been very serious.</p>
+
+<p>He now gave up all hope of ever frightening this
+rude American family, and contented himself, as a
+rule, with creeping about the passages in list slippers,
+with a thick red muffler round his throat for
+fear of draughts, and a small arquebus, in case he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+should be attacked by the twins. The final blow
+he received occurred on the 19th of September.
+He had gone downstairs to the great entrance-hall
+feeling sure that there, at any rate, he would be
+quite unmolested, and was amusing himself by
+making satirical remarks on the large Saroni photographs
+of the United States Minister and his wife,
+which had now taken the place of the Canterville
+family pictures. He was simply but neatly clad
+in a long shroud, spotted with churchyard mold,
+had tied up his jaw with a strip of yellow linen, and
+carried a small lantern and a sexton's spade. In
+fact, he was dressed for the character of &ldquo;Jonas the
+Graveless, or the Corpse-Snatcher of Chertsey
+Barn,&rdquo; one of his most remarkable impersonations,
+and one which the Cantervilles had every reason
+to remember, as it was the real origin of their
+quarrel with their neighbor, Lord Rufford. It
+was about a quarter-past two o'clock in the morning,
+and, as far as he could ascertain, no one was
+stirring. As he was strolling towards the library,
+however, to see if there were any traces left of the
+blood-stain, suddenly there leaped out on him from
+a dark corner two figures, who waved their arms
+wildly above their heads, and shrieked out &ldquo;BOO!&rdquo;
+in his ear.</p>
+
+<p>Seized with a panic, which, under the circumstances,
+was only natural, he rushed for the staircase,
+but found Washington Otis waiting for him
+there with the big garden-syringe, and being thus
+hemmed in by his enemies on every side, and driven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+almost to bay, he vanished into the great iron
+stove, which, fortunately for him, was not lit, and
+had to make his way home through the flues and
+chimneys, arriving at his own room in a terrible
+state of dirt, disorder, and despair.</p>
+
+<p>After this he was not seen again on any nocturnal
+expedition. The twins lay in wait for him on
+several occasions, and strewed the passages with
+nutshells every night to the great annoyance of
+their parents and the servants, but it was of no
+avail. It was quite evident that his feelings were
+so wounded that he would not appear. Mr. Otis
+consequently resumed his great work on the history
+of the Democratic party, on which he had
+been engaged for some years; Mrs. Otis organized
+a wonderful clam-bake, which amazed the whole
+county; the boys took to lacrosse, euchre, poker,
+and other American national games, and Virginia
+rode about the lanes on her pony, accompanied by
+the young Duke of Cheshire, who had come to
+spend the last week of his holidays at Canterville
+Chase. It was generally assumed that the ghost
+had gone away, and, in fact, Mr. Otis wrote a letter
+to that effect to Lord Canterville, who, in reply,
+expressed his great pleasure at the news, and sent
+his best congratulations to the Minister's worthy
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>The Otises, however, were deceived, for the
+ghost was still in the house, and though now almost
+an invalid, was by no means ready to let matters
+rest, particularly as he heard that among the guests<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+was the young Duke of Cheshire, whose grand-uncle,
+Lord Francis Stilton, had once bet a hundred
+guineas with Colonel Carbury that he would
+play dice with the Canterville ghost, and was found
+the next morning lying on the floor of the card-room
+in such a helpless paralytic state that, though
+he lived on to a great age, he was never able to say
+anything again but &ldquo;Double Sixes.&rdquo; The story
+was well known at the time, though, of course, out
+of respect to the feelings of the two noble families,
+every attempt was made to hush it up, and a full
+account of all the circumstances connected with it
+will be found in the third volume of Lord Tattle's
+<i>Recollections of the Prince Regent and his Friends</i>.
+The ghost, then, was naturally very anxious to
+show that he had not lost his influence over the
+Stiltons, with whom, indeed, he was distantly connected,
+his own first cousin having been married <i>en
+secondes noces</i> to the Sieur de Bulkeley, from whom,
+as everyone knows, the Dukes of Cheshire are
+lineally descended. Accordingly, he made arrangements
+for appearing to Virginia's little lover in his
+celebrated impersonation of &ldquo;The Vampire Monk,
+or the Bloodless Benedictine,&rdquo; a performance so
+horrible that when old Lady Startup saw it, which
+she did on one fatal New Year's Eve, in the
+year 1764, she went off into the most piercing
+shrieks, which culminated in violent apoplexy, and
+died in three days, after disinheriting the Cantervilles,
+who were her nearest relations, and leaving
+all her money to her London apothecary. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
+last moment, however, his terror of the twins prevented
+his leaving his room, and the little Duke
+slept in peace under the great feathered canopy in
+the Royal Bedchamber, and dreamed of Virginia.</p>
+
+
+<h3>V</h3>
+
+<p>A few days after this, Virginia and her curly-haired
+cavalier went out riding on Brockley meadows,
+where she tore her habit so badly in getting
+through a hedge that, on their return home, she
+made up her mind to go up by the back staircase
+so as not to be seen. As she was running past the
+Tapestry Chamber, the door of which happened to
+be open, she fancied she saw someone inside, and
+thinking it was her mother's maid, who sometimes
+used to bring her work there, looked in to ask her
+to mend her habit. To her immense surprise,
+however, it was the Canterville ghost himself!
+He was sitting by the window, watching the ruined
+gold of the yellowing trees fly through the air, and
+the red leaves dancing madly down the long avenue.
+His head was leaning on his hand, and his whole
+attitude was one of extreme depression. Indeed,
+so forlorn, and so much out of repair did he look,
+that little Virginia, whose first idea had been to
+run away and lock herself in her room, was filled
+with pity, and determined to try and comfort him.
+So light was her footfall, and so deep his melancholy,
+that he was not aware of her presence till
+she spoke to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am so sorry for you,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;but my
+brothers are going back to Eton to-morrow, and
+then, if you behave yourself, no one will annoy
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is absurd asking me to behave myself,&rdquo; he
+answered, looking round in astonishment at the
+pretty little girl who had ventured to address him,
+&ldquo;quite absurd. I must rattle my chains, and groan
+through keyholes, and walk about at night, if that
+is what you mean. It is my only reason for existing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is no reason at all for existing, and you know
+you have been very wicked. Mrs. Umney told us,
+the first day we arrived here, that you had killed
+your wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I quite admit it,&rdquo; said the ghost, petulantly,
+&ldquo;but it was a purely family matter and
+concerned no one else.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is very wrong to kill anyone,&rdquo; said Virginia,
+who at times had a sweet puritan gravity, caught
+from some old New England ancestor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics!
+My wife was very plain, never had my ruffs
+properly starched, and knew nothing about cookery.
+Why, there was a buck I had shot in Hogley
+Woods, a magnificent pricket, and do you know
+how she had it sent to table? However, it is no
+matter now, for it is all over, and I don't think it
+was very nice of her brothers to starve me to death,
+though I did kill her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Starve you to death? Oh, Mr. Ghost&mdash;I mean<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+Sir Simon, are you hungry? I have a sandwich in
+my case. Would you like it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, thank you, I never eat anything now; but
+it is very kind of you, all the same, and you are
+much nicer than the rest of your horrid, rude,
+vulgar, dishonest family.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; cried Virginia, stamping her foot, &ldquo;it
+is you who are rude, and horrid, and vulgar, and as
+for dishonesty, you know you stole the paints out
+of my box to try and furbish up that ridiculous
+blood-stain in the library. First you took all my
+reds, including the vermilion, and I couldn't do any
+more sunsets, then you took the emerald-green
+and the chrome-yellow, and finally I had nothing
+left but indigo and Chinese white, and could only
+do moonlight scenes, which are always depressing
+to look at, and not at all easy to paint. I never
+told on you, though I was very much annoyed, and
+it was most ridiculous, the whole thing; for who
+ever heard of emerald-green blood?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, really,&rdquo; said the Ghost, rather meekly,
+&ldquo;what was I to do? It is a very difficult thing to
+get real blood nowadays, and, as your brother
+began it all with his Paragon Detergent, I certainly
+saw no reason why I should not have your paints.
+As for color, that is always a matter of taste: the
+Cantervilles have blue blood, for instance, the very
+bluest in England; but I know you Americans don't
+care for things of this kind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know nothing about it, and the best thing
+you can do is to emigrate and improve your mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+My father will be only too happy to give you a free
+passage, and though there is a heavy duty on
+spirits of every kind, there will be no difficulty
+about the Custom House, as the officers are all
+Democrats. Once in New York, you are sure to
+be a great success. I know lots of people there who
+would give a hundred thousand dollars to have a
+grandfather, and much more than that to have a
+family ghost.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't think I should like America.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose because we have no ruins and no
+curiosities,&rdquo; said Virginia, satirically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No ruins! no curiosities!&rdquo; answered the Ghost;
+&ldquo;you have your navy and your manners.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good evening; I will go and ask papa to get the
+twins an extra week's holiday.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Please don't go, Miss Virginia,&rdquo; he cried; &ldquo;I am
+so lonely and so unhappy, and I really don't know
+what to do. I want to go to sleep and I cannot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's quite absurd! You have merely to go
+to bed and blow out the candle. It is very difficult
+sometimes to keep awake, especially at church, but
+there is no difficulty at all about sleeping. Why,
+even babies know how to do that, and they are not
+very clever.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have not slept for three hundred years,&rdquo; he
+said sadly, and Virginia's beautiful blue eyes
+opened in wonder; &ldquo;for three hundred years I have
+not slept, and I am so tired.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Virginia grew quite grave, and her little lips
+trembled like rose-leaves. She came towards him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+and kneeling down at his side, looked up into his
+old withered face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor, poor ghost,&rdquo; she murmured; &ldquo;have you
+no place where you can sleep?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Far away beyond the pinewoods,&rdquo; he answered,
+in a low, dreamy voice, &ldquo;there is a little garden.
+There the grass grows long and deep, there are the
+great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the
+nightingale sings all night long. All night long he
+sings, and the cold crystal moon looks down, and
+the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the
+sleepers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Virginia's eyes grew dim with tears, and she hid
+her face in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean the Garden of Death,&rdquo; she
+whispered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, death. Death must be so beautiful. To
+lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving
+above one's head, and listen to silence. To have
+no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time,
+to forget life, to be at peace. You can help me.
+You can open for me the portals of death's house,
+for love is always with you, and love is stronger
+than death is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Virginia trembled, a cold shudder ran through
+her, and for a few moments there was silence. She
+felt as if she was in a terrible dream.</p>
+
+<p>Then the ghost spoke again, and his voice
+sounded like the sighing of the wind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you ever read the old prophecy on the
+library window?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, often,&rdquo; cried the little girl, looking up;
+&ldquo;I know it quite well. It is painted in curious
+black letters, and is difficult to read. There are
+only six lines:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><b>&ldquo;'When a golden girl can win</b><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><b>Prayer from out the lips of sin,</b><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><b>When the barren almond bears,</b><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><b>And a little child gives away its tears,</b><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><b>Then shall all the house be still</b><br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><b>And peace come to Canterville.'</b><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="noindent">&ldquo;But I don't know what they mean.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They mean,&rdquo; he said, sadly, &ldquo;that you must
+weep with me for my sins, because I have no tears,
+and pray with me for my soul, because I have no
+faith, and then, if you have always been sweet,
+and good, and gentle, the angel of death will have
+mercy on me. You will see fearful shapes in darkness,
+and wicked voices will whisper in your ear,
+but they will not harm you, for against the purity
+of a little child the powers of Hell cannot prevail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Virginia made no answer, and the ghost wrung
+his hands in wild despair as he looked down at her
+bowed golden head. Suddenly she stood up, very
+pale, and with a strange light in her eyes. &ldquo;I am
+not afraid,&rdquo; she said firmly, &ldquo;and I will ask the
+angel to have mercy on you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He rose from his seat with a faint cry of joy, and
+taking her hand bent over it with old-fashioned
+grace and kissed it. His fingers were as cold as ice,
+and his lips burned like fire, but Virginia did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
+falter, as he led her across the dusky room. On the
+faded green tapestry were broidered little huntsmen.
+They blew their tasseled horns and with
+their tiny hands waved to her to go back. &ldquo;Go
+back! little Virginia,&rdquo; they cried, &ldquo;go back!&rdquo; but
+the ghost clutched her hand more tightly, and she
+shut her eyes against them. Horrible animals with
+lizard tails and goggle eyes blinked at her from the
+carven chimney-piece, and murmured, &ldquo;Beware!
+little Virginia, beware! we may never see you
+again,&rdquo; but the ghost glided on more swiftly, and
+Virginia did not listen. When they reached the
+end of the room he stopped, and muttered some
+words she could not understand. She opened her
+eyes, and saw the wall slowly fading away like a
+mist, and a great black cavern in front of her. A
+bitter cold wind swept round them, and she felt
+something pulling at her dress. &ldquo;Quick, quick,&rdquo;
+cried the ghost, &ldquo;or it will be too late,&rdquo; and in a
+moment the wainscoting had closed behind them,
+and the Tapestry Chamber was empty.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VI</h3>
+
+<p>About ten minutes later, the bell rang for tea,
+and, as Virginia did not come down, Mrs. Otis
+sent up one of the footmen to tell her. After a little
+time he returned and said that he could not find
+Miss Virginia anywhere. As she was in the habit
+of going out to the garden every evening to get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+flowers for the dinner-table, Mrs. Otis was not at
+all alarmed at first, but when six o'clock struck,
+and Virginia did not appear, she became really
+agitated, and sent the boys out to look for her,
+while she herself and Mr. Otis searched every room
+in the house. At half-past six the boys came back
+and said that they could find no trace of their sister
+anywhere. They were all now in the greatest state
+of excitement, and did not know what to do, when
+Mr. Otis suddenly remembered that, some few
+days before, he had given a band of gipsies permission
+to camp in the park. He accordingly at
+once set off for Blackfell Hollow, where he knew
+they were, accompanied by his eldest son and two
+of the farm-servants. The little Duke of Cheshire,
+who was perfectly frantic with anxiety, begged
+hard to be allowed to go too, but Mr. Otis would
+not allow him, as he was afraid there might be a
+scuffle. On arriving at the spot, however, he found
+that the gipsies had gone, and it was evident that
+their departure had been rather sudden, as the fire
+was still burning, and some plates were lying on
+the grass. Having sent off Washington and the
+two men to scour the district, he ran home, and
+dispatched telegrams to all the police inspectors
+in the county, telling them to look out for a little
+girl who had been kidnapped by tramps or gipsies.
+He then ordered his horse to be brought round, and
+after insisting on his wife and the three boys sitting
+down to dinner, rode off down the Ascot road with
+a groom. He had hardly, however, gone a couple<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
+of miles, when he heard somebody galloping after
+him, and, looking round, saw the little Duke
+coming up on his pony, with his face very flushed,
+and no hat. &ldquo;I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Otis,&rdquo; gasped
+out the boy, &ldquo;but I can't eat any dinner as long as
+Virginia is lost. Please don't be angry with me;
+if you had let us be engaged last year, there would
+never have been all this trouble. You won't send
+me back, will you? I can't go! I won't go!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Minister could not help smiling at the handsome
+young scapegrace, and was a good deal
+touched at his devotion to Virginia, so leaning
+down from his horse, he patted him kindly on the
+shoulders, and said, &ldquo;Well, Cecil, if you won't go
+back, I suppose you must come with me, but I must
+get you a hat at Ascot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, bother my hat! I want Virginia!&rdquo; cried
+the little Duke, laughing, and they galloped on to
+the railway station. There Mr. Otis inquired of the
+station-master if anyone answering to the description
+of Virginia had been seen on the platform,
+but could get no news of her. The station-master,
+however, wired up and down the line, and assured
+him that a strict watch would be kept for her, and,
+after having bought a hat for the little Duke from
+a linen-draper, who was just putting up his shutters,
+Mr. Otis rode off to Bexley, a village about four
+miles away, which he was told was a well-known
+haunt of the gipsies, as there was a large common
+next to it. Here they roused up the rural policeman,
+but could get no information from him, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+after riding all over the common, they turned their
+horses' heads homewards, and reached the Chase
+about eleven o'clock, dead-tired and almost heart-broken.
+They found Washington and the twins
+waiting for them at the gate-house with lanterns,
+as the avenue was very dark. Not the slightest
+trace of Virginia had been discovered. The gipsies
+had been caught on Brockley meadows, but she
+was not with them, and they had explained their
+sudden departure by saying that they had mistaken
+the date of Chorton Fair, and had gone off
+in a hurry for fear they should be late. Indeed,
+they had been quite distressed at hearing of Virginia's
+disappearance, as they were very grateful
+to Mr. Otis for having allowed them to camp in his
+park, and four of their number had stayed behind
+to help in the search. The carp-pond had been
+dragged, and the whole Chase thoroughly gone
+over, but without any result. It was evident that,
+for that night at any rate, Virginia was lost to
+them; and it was in a state of the deepest depression
+that Mr. Otis and the boys walked up to the
+house, the groom following behind with the two
+horses and the pony. In the hall they found a
+group of frightened servants, and lying on a sofa
+in the library was poor Mrs. Otis, almost out of her
+mind with terror and anxiety, and having her forehead
+bathed with eau de cologne by the old housekeeper.
+Mr. Otis at once insisted on her having
+something to eat, and ordered up supper for the
+whole party. It was a melancholy meal, as hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+anyone spoke, and even the twins were awestruck
+and subdued, as they were very fond of their sister.
+When they had finished, Mr. Otis, in spite of the
+entreaties of the little Duke, ordered them all to
+bed, saying that nothing more could be done that
+night, and that he would telegraph in the morning
+to Scotland Yard for some detectives to be sent
+down immediately. Just as they were passing out
+of the dining-room, midnight began to boom from
+the clock tower, and when the last stroke sounded
+they heard a crash and a sudden shrill cry; a dreadful
+peal of thunder shook the house, a strain of
+unearthly music floated through the air, a panel
+at the top of the staircase flew back with a loud
+noise, and out on the landing, looking very pale
+and white, with a little casket in her hand, stepped
+Virginia. In a moment they had all rushed up to
+her. Mrs. Otis clasped her passionately in her
+arms, the Duke smothered her with violent kisses,
+and the twins executed a wild war-dance round
+the group.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens! child, where have you been?&rdquo;
+said Mr. Otis, rather angrily, thinking that she had
+been playing some foolish trick on them. &ldquo;Cecil
+and I have been riding all over the country looking
+for you, and your mother has been frightened to
+death. You must never play these practical jokes
+any more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Except on the ghost! except on the ghost!&rdquo;
+shrieked the twins, as they capered about.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My own darling, thank God you are found;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+you must never leave my side again,&rdquo; murmured
+Mrs. Otis, as she kissed the trembling child, and
+smoothed the tangled gold of her hair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Papa,&rdquo; said Virginia, quietly, &ldquo;I have been
+with the ghost. He is dead, and you must come
+and see him. He had been very wicked, but he
+was really sorry for all that he had done, and
+he gave me this box of beautiful jewels before he
+died.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The whole family gazed at her in mute amazement,
+but she was quite grave and serious; and,
+turning round, she led them through the opening
+in the wainscoting down a narrow secret corridor,
+Washington following with a lighted candle, which
+he had caught up from the table. Finally, they
+came to a great oak door, studded with rusty nails.
+When Virginia touched it, it swung back on its
+heavy hinges, and they found themselves in a little
+low room, with a vaulted ceiling, and one tiny
+grated window. Embedded in the wall was a huge
+iron ring, and chained to it was a gaunt skeleton,
+that was stretched out at full length on the stone
+floor, and seemed to be trying to grasp with its
+long fleshless fingers an old-fashioned trencher and
+ewer, that were placed just out of its reach. The
+jug had evidently been once filled with water, as
+it was covered inside with green mold. There was
+nothing on the trencher but a pile of dust. Virginia
+knelt down beside the skeleton, and, folding
+her little hands together, began to pray silently,
+while the rest of the party looked on in wonder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
+at the terrible tragedy whose secret was now disclosed
+to them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hallo!&rdquo; suddenly exclaimed one of the twins,
+who had been looking out of the window to try
+and discover in what wing of the house the room
+was situated. &ldquo;Hallo! the old withered almond-tree
+has blossomed. I can see the flowers quite
+plainly in the moonlight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God has forgiven him,&rdquo; said Virginia, gravely,
+as she rose to her feet, and a beautiful light seemed
+to illumine her face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What an angel you are!&rdquo; cried the young Duke,
+and he put his arm round her neck, and kissed her.</p>
+
+
+<h3>VII</h3>
+
+<p>Four days after these curious incidents, a funeral
+started from Canterville Chase at about
+eleven o'clock at night. The hearse was drawn by
+eight black horses, each of which carried on its
+head a great tuft of nodding ostrich-plumes, and
+the leaden coffin was covered by a rich purple pall,
+on which was embroidered in gold the Canterville
+coat-of-arms. By the side of the hearse and the
+coaches walked the servants with lighted torches,
+and the whole procession was wonderfully impressive.
+Lord Canterville was the chief mourner,
+having come up specially from Wales to attend the
+funeral, and sat in the first carriage along with little
+Virginia. Then came the United States Minister<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
+and his wife, then Washington and the three boys,
+and in the last carriage was Mrs. Umney. It was
+generally felt that, as she had been frightened by
+the ghost for more than fifty years of her life, she
+had a right to see the last of him. A deep grave
+had been dug in the corner of the churchyard, just
+under the old yew-tree, and the service was read in
+the most impressive manner by the Rev. Augustus
+Dampier. When the ceremony was over, the servants,
+according to an old custom observed in the
+Canterville family, extinguished their torches, and,
+as the coffin was being lowered into the grave, Virginia
+stepped forward, and laid on it a large cross
+made of white and pink almond-blossoms. As she
+did so, the moon came out from behind a cloud,
+and flooded with its silent silver the little churchyard,
+and from a distant copse a nightingale began
+to sing. She thought of the ghost's description of
+the Garden of Death, her eyes became dim with
+tears, and she hardly spoke a word during the drive
+home.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, before Lord Canterville went
+up to town, Mr. Otis had an interview with him
+on the subject of the jewels the ghost had given
+to Virginia. They were perfectly magnificent, especially
+a certain ruby necklace with old Venetian
+setting, which was really a superb specimen of sixteenth-century
+work, and their value was so great
+that Mr. Otis felt considerable scruples about
+allowing his daughter to accept them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My lord,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I know that in this country<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+mortmain is held to apply to trinkets as well as to
+land, and it is quite clear to me that these jewels
+are, or should be, heirlooms in your family. I must
+beg you, accordingly, to take them to London with
+you, and to regard them simply as a portion of your
+property which has been restored to you under
+certain strange conditions. As for my daughter,
+she is merely a child, and has as yet, I am glad to
+say, but little interest in such appurtenances of
+idle luxury. I am also informed by Mrs. Otis, who,
+I may say, is no mean authority upon Art,&mdash;having
+had the privilege of spending several winters in
+Boston when she was a girl,&mdash;that these gems are
+of great monetary worth, and if offered for sale
+would fetch a tall price. Under these circumstances,
+Lord Canterville, I feel sure that you will
+recognize how impossible it would be for me to
+allow them to remain in the possession of any member
+of my family; and, indeed, all such vain gauds
+and toys, however suitable or necessary to the
+dignity of the British aristocracy, would be completely
+out of place among those who have been
+brought up on the severe, and I believe immortal,
+principles of Republican simplicity. Perhaps I
+should mention that Virginia is very anxious that
+you should allow her to retain the box, as a memento
+of your unfortunate but misguided ancestor.
+As it is extremely old, and consequently a good
+deal out of repair, you may perhaps think fit to
+comply with her request. For my own part, I
+confess I am a good deal surprised to find a child of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+mine expressing sympathy with medievalism in
+any form, and can only account for it by the fact
+that Virginia was born in one of your London suburbs
+shortly after Mrs. Otis had returned from a
+trip to Athens.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lord Canterville listened very gravely to the
+worthy Minister's speech, pulling his gray moustache
+now and then to hide an involuntary smile,
+and when Mr. Otis had ended, he shook him cordially
+by the hand, and said: &ldquo;My dear sir, your
+charming little daughter rendered my unlucky
+ancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service, and
+I and my family are much indebted to her for her
+marvelous courage and pluck. The jewels are
+clearly hers, and, egad, I believe that if I were
+heartless enough to take them from her, the wicked
+old fellow would be out of his grave in a fortnight,
+leading me the devil of a life. As for their being
+heirlooms, nothing is an heirloom that is not so
+mentioned in a will or legal document, and the
+existence of these jewels has been quite unknown.
+I assure you I have no more claim on them than
+your butler, and when Miss Virginia grows up, I
+dare say she will be pleased to have pretty things to
+wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis, that you took
+the furniture and the ghost at a valuation, and
+anything that belonged to the ghost passed at once
+into your possession, as, whatever activity Sir
+Simon may have shown in the corridor at night, in
+point of law he was really dead, and you acquired
+his property by purchase.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>Mr. Otis was a good deal distressed at Lord
+Canterville's refusal, and begged him to reconsider
+his decision, but the good-natured peer was quite
+firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his
+daughter to retain the present the ghost had given
+her, and when, in the spring of 1890, the young
+Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen's
+first drawing-room on the occasion of her marriage
+her jewels were the universal theme of admiration.
+For Virginia received the coronet, which is the reward
+of all good little American girls, and was
+married to her boy-lover as soon as he came of age.
+They were both so charming, and they loved each
+other so much, that everyone was delighted at the
+match, except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton,
+who had tried to catch the Duke for one of her
+seven unmarried daughters, and had given no less
+than three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose,
+and, strange to say, Mr. Otis himself. Mr.
+Otis was extremely fond of the young Duke personally,
+but, theoretically, he objected to titles,
+and, to use his own words, &ldquo;was not without apprehension
+lest, amid the enervating influences of a
+pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles
+of Republican simplicity should be forgotten.&rdquo;
+His objections, however, were completely over-ruled,
+and I believe that when he walked up the
+aisle of St. George's, Hanover Square, with his
+daughter leaning on his arm, there was not a
+prouder man in the whole length and breadth of
+England.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>The Duke and Duchess, after the honeymoon
+was over, went down to Canterville Chase, and on
+the day after their arrival they walked over in the
+afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pinewoods.
+There had been a great deal of difficulty
+at first about the inscription on Sir Simon's tombstone,
+but finally it had been decided to engrave
+on it simply the initials of the old gentleman's
+name, and the verse from the library window.
+The Duchess had brought with her some lovely
+roses, which she strewed upon the grave, and after
+they had stood by it for some time they strolled
+into the ruined chancel of the old abbey. There
+the Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while her
+husband lay at her feet smoking a cigarette and
+looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly he
+threw his cigarette away, took hold of her hand,
+and said to her, &ldquo;Virginia, a wife should have no
+secrets from her husband.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, you have,&rdquo; he answered, smiling, &ldquo;you
+have never told me what happened to you when
+you were locked up with the ghost.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have never told anyone, Cecil,&rdquo; said Virginia,
+gravely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know that, but you might tell me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Please don't ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you.
+Poor Sir Simon! I owe him a great deal. Yes,
+don't laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see
+what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why
+Love is stronger than both.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Duke rose and kissed his wife lovingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can have your secret as long as I have your
+heart,&rdquo; he murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have always had that, Cecil.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you will tell our children some day, won't
+you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Virginia blushed.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_GHOST-EXTINGUISHER" id="THE_GHOST-EXTINGUISHER"></a>THE GHOST-EXTINGUISHER</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> GELETT BURGESS</h4>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From the <i>Cosmopolitan Magazine</i>, April, 1905. By permission
+of John Brisben Walker and Gelett Burgess.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+<h2>The Ghost-Extinguisher</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p>
+<h4>BY GELETT BURGESS</h4>
+
+
+<p>My attention was first called to the possibility
+of manufacturing a practicable ghost-extinguisher
+by a real-estate agent in San Francisco.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There's one thing,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that affects city
+property here in a curious way. You know we
+have a good many murders, and, as a consequence,
+certain houses attain a very sensational and undesirable
+reputation. These houses it is almost
+impossible to let; you can scarcely get a decent
+family to occupy them rent-free. Then we have a
+great many places said to be haunted. These were
+dead timber on my hands until I happened to
+notice that the Japanese have no objections to
+spooks. Now, whenever I have such a building to
+rent, I let it to Japs at a nominal figure, and after
+they've taken the curse off, I raise the rent, the
+Japs move out, the place is renovated, and in the
+market again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The subject interested me, for I am not only a
+scientist, but a speculative philosopher as well.
+The investigation of those phenomena that lie
+upon the threshold of the great unknown has
+always been my favorite field of research. I believed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+even then, that the Oriental mind, working
+along different lines than those which we pursue,
+has attained knowledge that we know little of.
+Thinking, therefore, that these Japs might have
+some secret inherited from their misty past, I
+examined into the matter.</p>
+
+<p>I shall not trouble you with a narration of the
+incidents which led up to my acquaintance with
+Hoku Yamanochi. Suffice it to say that I found
+in him a friend who was willing to share with me
+his whole lore of quasi-science. I call it this advisedly,
+for science, as we Occidentals use the term,
+has to do only with the laws of matter and sensation;
+our scientific men, in fact, recognize the
+existence of nothing else. The Buddhistic philosophy,
+however, goes further.</p>
+
+<p>According to its theories, the soul is sevenfold,
+consisting of different shells or envelopes&mdash;something
+like an onion&mdash;which are shed as life passes
+from the material to the spiritual state. The first,
+or lowest, of these is the corporeal body, which,
+after death, decays and perishes. Next comes the
+vital principle, which, departing from the body,
+dissipates itself like an odor, and is lost. Less
+gross than this is the astral body, which, although
+immaterial, yet lies near to the consistency of
+matter. This astral shape, released from the body
+at death, remains for a while in its earthly environment,
+still preserving more or less definitely the
+imprint of the form which it inhabited.</p>
+
+<p>It is this relic of a past material personality, this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+outworn shell, that appears, when galvanized into
+an appearance of life, partly materialized, as a
+ghost. It is not the soul that returns, for the soul,
+which is immortal, is composed of the four higher
+spiritual essences that surround the ego, and are
+carried on into the next life. These astral bodies,
+therefore, fail to terrify the Buddhists, who know
+them only as shadows, with no real volition. The
+Japs, in point of fact, have learned how to exterminate
+them.</p>
+
+<p>There is a certain powder, Hoku informed me,
+which, when burnt in their presence, transforms
+them from the rarefied, or semi-spiritual, condition
+to the state of matter. The ghost, so to speak,
+is precipitated into and becomes a material shape
+which can easily be disposed of. In this state it is
+confined and allowed to disintegrate slowly where
+it can cause no further annoyance.</p>
+
+<p>This long-winded explanation piqued my curiosity,
+which was not to be satisfied until I had
+seen the Japanese method applied. It was not
+long before I had an opportunity. A particularly
+revolting murder having been committed in San
+Francisco, my friend Hoku Yamanochi applied for
+the house, and, after the police had finished their
+examination, he was permitted to occupy it for a
+half-year at the ridiculous price of three dollars a
+month. He invited me to share his quarters, which
+were large and luxuriously furnished.</p>
+
+<p>For a week, nothing abnormal occurred. Then,
+one night, I was awakened by terrifying groans<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+followed by a blood-curdling shriek which seemed
+to emerge from a large closet in my room, the scene
+of the late atrocity. I confess that I had all the
+covers pulled over my head and was shivering with
+horror when my Japanese friend entered, wearing
+a pair of flowered-silk pajamas. Hearing his voice,
+I peeped forth, to see him smiling reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You some kind of very foolish fellow,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;I show you how to fix him!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He took from his pocket three conical red pastils,
+placed them upon a saucer and lighted them.
+Then, holding the fuming dish in one outstretched
+hand, he walked to the closed door and opened it.
+The shrieks burst out afresh, and, as I recalled the
+appalling details of the scene which had occurred
+in this very room only five weeks ago, I shuddered
+at his temerity. But he was quite calm.</p>
+
+<p>Soon, I saw the wraith-like form of the recent
+victim dart from the closet. She crawled under
+my bed and ran about the room, endeavoring to
+escape, but was pursued by Hoku, who waved his
+smoking plate with indefatigable patience and
+dexterity.</p>
+
+<p>At last he had her cornered, and the specter was
+caught behind a curtain of odorous fumes. Slowly
+the figure grew more distinct, assuming the consistency
+of a heavy vapor, shrinking somewhat in
+the operation. Hoku now hurriedly turned to me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You hully up, bling me one pair bellows pletty
+quick!&rdquo; he commanded.</p>
+
+<p>I ran into his room and brought the bellows<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+from his fireplace. These he pressed flat, and then
+carefully inserting one toe of the ghost into the
+nozzle and opening the handles steadily, he sucked
+in a portion of the unfortunate woman's anatomy,
+and dexterously squirted the vapor into a large jar,
+which had been placed in the room for the purpose.
+Two more operations were necessary to withdraw
+the phantom completely from the corner and empty
+it into the jar. At last the transfer was effected and
+the receptacle securely stoppered and sealed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In formeryore-time,&rdquo; Hoku explained to me,
+&ldquo;old pliests sucked ghost with mouth and spit him
+to inside of vase with acculacy. Modern-time
+method more better for stomach and epiglottis.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How long will this ghost keep?&rdquo; I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, about four, five hundled years, maybe,&rdquo;
+was his reply. &ldquo;Ghost now change from spilit to
+matter, and comes under legality of matter as
+usual science.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you going to do with her?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Send him to Buddhist temple in Japan. Old
+pliest use him for high celemony,&rdquo; was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>My next desire was to obtain some of Hoku
+Yamanochi's ghost-powder and analyze it. For
+a while it defied my attempts, but, after many
+months of patient research, I discovered that it
+could be produced, in all its essential qualities, by
+means of a fusion of formaldehyde and hypophenyltrybrompropionic
+acid in an electrified vacuum.
+With this product I began a series of interesting
+experiments.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As it became necessary for me to discover the
+habitat of ghosts in considerable numbers, I joined
+the American Society for Psychical Research, thus
+securing desirable information in regard to haunted
+houses. These I visited persistently, until my
+powder was perfected and had been proved efficacious
+for the capture of any ordinary house-broken
+phantom. For a while I contented myself
+with the mere sterilization of these specters, but,
+as I became surer of success, I began to attempt the
+transfer of ghosts to receptacles wherein they could
+be transported and studied at my leisure, classified
+and preserved for future reference.</p>
+
+<p>Hoku's bellows I soon discarded in favor of a
+large-sized bicycle-pump, and eventually I had
+constructed one of my own, of a pattern which enabled
+me to inhale an entire ghost at a single stroke.
+With this powerful instrument I was able to compress
+even an adult life-sized ghost into a two-quart
+bottle, in the neck of which a sensitive valve
+(patented) prevented the specter from emerging
+during process.</p>
+
+<p>My invention was not yet, however, quite satisfactory.
+While I had no trouble in securing ghosts
+of recent creation&mdash;spirits, that is, who were yet of
+almost the consistency of matter&mdash;on several of
+my trips abroad in search of material I found in
+old manor houses or ruined castles many specters
+so ancient that they had become highly rarefied
+and tenuous, being at times scarcely visible to the
+naked eye. Such elusive spirits are able to pass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+through walls and elude pursuit with ease. It
+became necessary for me to obtain some instrument
+by which their capture could be conveniently
+effected.</p>
+
+<p>The ordinary fire-extinguisher of commerce gave
+me the hint as to how the problem could be solved.
+One of these portable hand-instruments I filled
+with the proper chemicals. When inverted, the
+ingredients were commingled in vacuo and a vast
+volume of gas was liberated. This was collected
+in the reservoir provided with a rubber tube having
+a nozzle at the end. The whole apparatus being
+strapped upon my back, I was enabled to direct a
+stream of powerful precipitating gas in any desired
+direction, the flow being under control through the
+agency of a small stopcock. By means of this
+ghost-extinguisher I was enabled to pursue my
+experiments as far as I desired.</p>
+
+<p>So far my investigations had been purely scientific,
+but before long the commercial value of my discovery
+began to interest me. The ruinous effects
+of spectral visitations upon real estate induced me
+to realize some pecuniary reward from my ghost-extinguisher,
+and I began to advertise my business.
+By degrees, I became known as an expert in my
+original line, and my professional services were
+sought with as much confidence as those of a veterinary
+surgeon. I manufactured the Gerrish Ghost-Extinguisher
+in several sizes, and put it on the
+market, following this venture with the introduction
+of my justly celebrated Gerrish Ghost-Grenades.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+These hand-implements were made to be
+kept in racks conveniently distributed in country
+houses for cases of sudden emergency. A single
+grenade, hurled at any spectral form, would, in
+breaking, liberate enough formaldybrom to coagulate
+the most perverse spirit, and the resulting
+vapor could easily be removed from the room by a
+housemaid with a common broom.</p>
+
+<p>This branch of my business, however, never
+proved profitable, for the appearance of ghosts,
+especially in the United States, is seldom anticipated.
+Had it been possible for me to invent a preventive
+as well as a remedy, I might now be a
+millionaire; but there are limits even to modern
+science.</p>
+
+<p>Having exhausted the field at home, I visited
+England in the hope of securing customers among
+the country families there. To my surprise, I discovered
+that the possession of a family specter was
+considered as a permanent improvement to the
+property, and my offers of service in ridding houses
+of ghostly tenants awakened the liveliest resentment.
+As a layer of ghosts I was much lower in
+the social scale than a layer of carpets.</p>
+
+<p>Disappointed and discouraged, I returned home
+to make a further study of the opportunities of my
+invention. I had, it seemed, exhausted the possibilities
+of the use of unwelcome phantoms. Could I
+not, I thought, derive a revenue from the traffic
+in desirable specters? I decided to renew my
+investigations.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The nebulous spirits preserved in my laboratory,
+which I had graded and classified, were, you will
+remember, in a state of suspended animation.
+They were, virtually, embalmed apparitions, their
+inevitable decay delayed, rather than prevented.
+The assorted ghosts that I had now preserved in
+hermetically sealed tins were thus in a state of unstable
+equilibrium. The tins once opened and the
+vapor allowed to dissipate, the original astral body
+would in time be reconstructed and the warmed-over
+specter would continue its previous career.
+But this process, when naturally performed, took
+years. The interval was quite too long for the
+phantom to be handled in any commercial way. My
+problem was, therefore, to produce from my tinned
+Essence of Ghost a specter that was capable of
+immediately going into business and that could
+haunt a house while you wait.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until radium was discovered that I
+approached the solution of my great problem, and
+even then months of indefatigable labor were
+necessary before the process was perfected. It has
+now been well demonstrated that the emanations
+of radiant energy sent forth by this surprising
+element defy our former scientific conceptions of
+the constitution of matter. It was for me to prove
+that the vibratory activity of radium (whose
+amplitudes and intensity are undoubtedly four-dimensional)
+effects a sort of allotropic modification
+in the particles of that imponderable ether
+which seems to lie halfway between matter and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
+pure spirit. This is as far as I need to go in my
+explanation, for a full discussion involves the use of
+quaternions and the method of least squares. It
+will be sufficient for the layman to know that my
+preserved phantoms, rendered radio-active, would,
+upon contact with the air, resume their spectral
+shape.</p>
+
+<p>The possible extension of my business now was
+enormous, limited only by the difficulty in collecting
+the necessary stock. It was by this time almost
+as difficult to get ghosts as it was to get radium.
+Finding that a part of my stock had spoiled, I was
+now possessed of only a few dozen cans of apparitions,
+many of these being of inferior quality. I
+immediately set about replenishing my raw material.
+It was not enough for me to pick up a ghost
+here and there, as one might get old mahogany; I
+determined to procure my phantoms in wholesale
+lots.</p>
+
+<p>Accident favored my design. In an old volume
+of <i>Blackwood's Magazine</i> I happened, one day, to
+come across an interesting article upon the battle
+of Waterloo. It mentioned, incidentally, a legend
+to the effect that every year, upon the anniversary
+of the celebrated victory, spectral squadrons had
+been seen by the peasants charging battalions of
+ghostly grenadiers. Here was my opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>I made elaborate preparations for the capture of
+this job lot of phantoms upon the next anniversary
+of the fight. Hard by the fatal ditch which engulfed
+Napoleon's cavalry I stationed a corps of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+able assistants provided with rapid-fire extinguishers
+ready to enfilade the famous sunken road.
+I stationed myself with a No. 4 model magazine-hose,
+with a four-inch nozzle, directly in the path
+which I knew would be taken by the advancing
+squadron.</p>
+
+<p>It was a fine, clear night, lighted, at first, by a
+slice of new moon; but later, dark, except for the
+pale illumination of the stars. I have seen many
+ghosts in my time&mdash;ghosts in garden and garret,
+at noon, at dusk, at dawn, phantoms fanciful, and
+specters sad and spectacular&mdash;but never have I
+seen such an impressive sight as this nocturnal
+charge of cuirassiers, galloping in goblin glory to
+their time-honored doom. From afar the French
+reserves presented the appearance of a nebulous
+mass, like a low-lying cloud or fog-bank, faintly
+luminous, shot with fluorescent gleams. As the
+squadron drew nearer in its desperate charge, the
+separate forms of the troopers shaped themselves,
+and the galloping guardsmen grew ghastly with
+supernatural splendor.</p>
+
+<p>Although I knew them to be immaterial and
+without mass or weight, I was terrified at their
+approach, fearing to be swept under the hoofs of
+the nightmares they rode. Like one in a dream, I
+started to run, but in another instant they were
+upon me, and I turned on my stream of formaldybrom.
+Then I was overwhelmed in a cloud-burst
+of wild warlike wraiths.</p>
+
+<p>The column swept past me, over the bank,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+plunging to its historic fate. The cut was piled
+full of frenzied, scrambling specters, as rank after
+rank swept down into the horrid gut. At last the
+ditch swarmed full of writhing forms and the carnage
+was dire.</p>
+
+<p>My assistants with the extinguishers stood firm,
+and although almost unnerved by the sight, they
+summoned their courage, and directed simultaneous
+streams of formaldybrom into the struggling
+mass of fantoms. As soon as my mind returned, I
+busied myself with the huge tanks I had prepared
+for use as receivers. These were fitted with a
+mechanism similar to that employed in portable
+forges, by which the heavy vapor was sucked off.
+Luckily the night was calm, and I was enabled to
+fill a dozen cylinders with the precipitated ghosts.
+The segregation of individual forms was, of course,
+impossible, so that men and horses were mingled
+in a horrible mixture of fricasseed spirits. I intended
+subsequently to empty the soup into a
+large reservoir and allow the separate specters to
+reform according to the laws of spiritual cohesion.</p>
+
+<p>Circumstances, however, prevented my ever
+accomplishing this result. I returned home, to
+find awaiting me an order so large and important
+that I had no time in which to operate upon my
+cylinders of cavalry.</p>
+
+<p>My patron was the proprietor of a new sanatorium
+for nervous invalids, located near some medicinal
+springs in the Catskills. His building was
+unfortunately located, having been built upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+site of a once-famous summer hotel, which, while
+filled with guests, had burnt to the ground, scores
+of lives having been lost. Just before the patients
+were to be installed in the new structure, it was
+found that the place was haunted by the victims
+of the conflagration to a degree that rendered it
+inconvenient as a health resort. My professional
+services were requested, therefore, to render the
+building a fitting abode for convalescents. I wrote
+to the proprietor, fixing my charge at five thousand
+dollars. As my usual rate was one hundred dollars
+per ghost, and over a hundred lives were lost at the
+fire, I considered this price reasonable, and my offer
+was accepted.</p>
+
+<p>The sanatorium job was finished in a week. I
+secured one hundred and two superior spectral
+specimens, and upon my return to the laboratory,
+put them up in heavily embossed tins with attractive
+labels in colors.</p>
+
+<p>My delight at the outcome of this business was,
+however, soon transformed to anger and indignation.
+The proprietor of the health resort, having
+found that the specters from his place had been
+sold, claimed a rebate upon the contract price
+equal to the value of the modified ghosts transferred
+to my possession. This, of course, I could
+not allow. I wrote, demanding immediate payment
+according to our agreement, and this was
+peremptorily refused. The manager's letter was
+insulting in the extreme. The Pied Piper of Hamelin
+was not worse treated than I felt myself to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+be; so, like the piper, I determined to have my
+revenge.</p>
+
+<p>I got out the twelve tanks of Waterloo ghost-hash
+from the storerooms, and treated them with
+radium for two days. These I shipped to the Catskills
+billed as hydrogen gas. Then, accompanied
+by two trustworthy assistants, I went to the sanatorium
+and preferred my demand for payment in
+person. I was ejected with contumely. Before my
+hasty exit, however, I had the satisfaction of noticing
+that the building was filled with patients.
+Languid ladies were seated in wicker chairs upon
+the piazzas, and frail anemic girls filled the corridors.
+It was a hospital of nervous wrecks whom
+the slightest disturbance would throw into a panic.
+I suppressed all my finer feelings of mercy and
+kindness and smiled grimly as I walked back to the
+village.</p>
+
+<p>That night was black and lowering, fitting
+weather for the pandemonium I was about to turn
+loose. At ten o'clock, I loaded a wagon with the
+tanks of compressed cohorts, and, muffled in heavy
+overcoats, we drove to the sanatorium. All was
+silent as we approached; all was dark. The wagon
+concealed in a grove of pines, we took out the tanks
+one by one, and placed them beneath the ground-floor
+windows. The sashes were easily forced open,
+and raised enough to enable us to insert the rubber
+tubes connected with the iron reservoirs. At midnight
+everything was ready.</p>
+
+<p>I gave the word, and my assistants ran from tank<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
+to tank, opening the stopcocks. With a hiss as of
+escaping steam the huge vessels emptied themselves,
+vomiting forth clouds of vapor, which, upon
+contact with the air, coagulated into strange shapes
+as the white of an egg does when dropped into boiling
+water. The rooms became instantly filled with
+dismembered shades of men and horses seeking
+wildly to unite themselves with their proper parts.</p>
+
+<p>Legs ran down the corridors, seeking their respective
+trunks, arms writhed wildly reaching for
+missing bodies, heads rolled hither and yon in
+search of native necks. Horses' tails and hoofs
+whisked and hurried in quest of equine ownership
+until, reorganized, the spectral steeds galloped
+about to find their riders.</p>
+
+<p>Had it been possible, I would have stopped this
+riot of wraiths long ere this, for it was more awful
+than I had anticipated, but it was already too late.
+Cowering in the garden, I began to hear the
+screams of awakened and distracted patients. In
+another moment, the front door of the hotel was
+burst open, and a mob of hysterical women in expensive
+nightgowns rushed out upon the lawn, and
+huddled in shrieking groups.</p>
+
+<p>I fled into the night.</p>
+
+<p>I fled, but Napoleon's men fled with me. Compelled
+by I know not what fatal astral attraction,
+perhaps the subtle affinity of the creature for the
+creator, the spectral shells, moved by some mysterious
+mechanics of spiritual being, pursued me with
+fatuous fury. I sought refuge, first, in my laboratory,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
+but, even as I approached, a lurid glare foretold
+me of its destruction. As I drew nearer, the
+whole ghost-factory was seen to be in flames; every
+moment crackling reports were heard, as the over-heated
+tins of phantasmagoria exploded and threw
+their supernatural contents upon the night. These
+liberated ghosts joined the army of Napoleon's
+outraged warriors, and turned upon me. There
+was not enough formaldybrom in all the world to
+quench their fierce energy. There was no place in
+all the world safe for me from their visitation. No
+ghost-extinguisher was powerful enough to lay
+the host of spirits that haunted me henceforth,
+and I had neither time nor money left with which
+to construct new Gatling quick-firing tanks.</p>
+
+<p>It is little comfort to me to know that one hundred
+nervous invalids were completely restored to
+health by means of the terrific shock which I
+administered.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="DEY_AINT_NO_GHOSTS" id="DEY_AINT_NO_GHOSTS"></a>&ldquo;DEY AIN'T NO GHOSTS&rdquo;</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> ELLIS PARKER BUTLER</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From the <i>Century Magazine</i>, November, 1911. By permission
+of the Century Company and Ellis Parker Butler.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>&ldquo;Dey Ain't No Ghosts&rdquo;</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> ELLIS PARKER BUTLER</h4>
+
+
+<p>Once 'pon a time dey was a li'l' black boy whut
+he name was Mose. An' whin he come erlong to be
+'bout knee-high to a mewel, he 'gin to git powerful
+'fraid ob ghosts, 'ca'se dat am sure a mighty
+ghostly location whut he lib' in, 'ca'se dey 's a
+grabeyard in de hollow, an' a buryin'-ground on de
+hill, an' a cemuntary in betwixt an' between, an'
+dey ain't nuffin' but trees nowhar excipt in de
+clearin' by de shanty an' down de hollow whar de
+pumpkin-patch am.</p>
+
+<p>An' whin de night come erlong, dey ain't no
+sounds <i>at</i> all whut kin be heard in dat locality but
+de rain-doves, whut mourn out, &ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;
+jes dat trembulous <i>an'</i> scary, an' de owls, whut
+mourn out, &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; more trembulous
+an' scary dan dat, an' de wind, whut mourn out,
+&ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; mos' scandalous' trembulous
+an' scary ob all. Dat a powerful onpleasant locality
+for a li'l' black boy whut he name was Mose.</p>
+
+<p>'Ca'se dat li'l' black boy he so specially black he
+can't be seen in de dark <i>at</i> all 'cept by de whites ob
+he eyes. So whin he go' outen de house <i>at</i> night,
+he ain't dast shut he eyes, 'ca'se den ain't nobody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+can see him in de least. He jes as invidsible as
+nuffin'. An' who know' but whut a great, big
+ghost bump right into him 'ca'se it can't see him?
+An' dat shore w'u'd scare dat li'l' black boy powerful'
+bad, 'ca'se yever'body knows whut a cold,
+damp pussonality a ghost is.</p>
+
+<p>So whin dat li'l' black Mose go' outen de shanty
+at night, he keep' he eyes wide open, you may be
+shore. By day he eyes 'bout de size ob butter-pats,
+an' come sundown he eyes 'bout de size ob saucers;
+but whin he go' outen de shanty at night, he eyes
+am de size ob de white chiny plate whut set on de
+mantel; an' it powerful' hard to keep eyes whut
+am de size ob dat from a-winkin' an' a-blinkin'.</p>
+
+<p>So whin Hallowe'en come' erlong, dat li'l' black
+Mose he jes mek' up he mind he ain't gwine outen
+he shack <i>at</i> all. He cogitate he gwine stay right
+snug in de shack wid he pa an' he ma, 'ca'se de
+rain-doves tek notice dat de ghosts are philanderin'
+roun' de country, 'ca'se dey mourn out, &ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;
+an' de owls dey mourn out, &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;
+an' de wind mourn out, &ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;
+De eyes ob dat li'l' black Mose dey as big as de
+white chiny plate whut set on de mantel by side de
+clock, an' de sun jes a-settin'.</p>
+
+<p>So dat all right. Li'l' black Mose he scrooge'
+back in de corner by de fireplace, an' he 'low' he
+gwine stay dere till he gwine <i>to</i> bed. But byme-by
+Sally Ann, whut live' up de road, draps in, an' Mistah
+Sally Ann, whut is her husban', he draps in, an'
+Zack Badget an' de school-teacher whut board' at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house drap in, an' a powerful
+lot ob folks drap in. An' li'l' black Mose he seen
+dat gwine be one s'prise-party, an' he right down
+cheerful 'bout dat.</p>
+
+<p>So all dem folks shake dere hands an' 'low
+&ldquo;Howdy,&rdquo; an' some ob dem say: &ldquo;Why, dere's li'l'
+Mose! Howdy, li'l' Mose?&rdquo; An' he so please' he
+jes grin' an' grin', 'ca'se he ain't reckon whut gwine
+happen. So byme-by Sally Ann, whut live up de
+road, she say', &ldquo;Ain't no sort o' Hallowe'en lest we
+got a jack-o'-lantern.&rdquo; An' de school-teacher,
+whut board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she 'low',
+&ldquo;Hallowe'en jes no Hallowe'en <i>at</i> all 'thout we got
+a jack-o'-lantern.&rdquo; An' li'l' black Mose he stop'
+a-grinnin', an' he scrooge' so far back in de corner
+he 'mos' scrooge frough de wall. But dat ain't no
+use, 'ca'se he ma say', &ldquo;Mose, go on down to de
+pumpkin-patch an' fotch a pumpkin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ain't want to go,&rdquo; say' li'l' black Mose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go on erlong wid yo',&rdquo; say' he ma, right
+commandin'.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ain't want to go,&rdquo; say' Mose ag'in.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why ain't yo' want to go?&rdquo; he ma ask'.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Ca'se I's afraid ob de ghosts,&rdquo; say' li'l' black
+Mose, an' dat de particular truth an' no mistake.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts,&rdquo; say' de school-teacher,
+whut board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, right peart.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Co'se dey ain't no ghosts,&rdquo; say' Zack Badget,
+whut dat 'fear'd ob ghosts he ain't dar' come to
+li'l' black Mose's house ef de school-teacher ain't
+ercompany him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go 'long wid your ghosts!&rdquo; say li'l' black
+Mose's ma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wha' yo' pick up dat nomsense?&rdquo; say' he pa.
+&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' dat whut all dat s'prise-party 'low: dey
+ain't no ghosts. An' dey 'low dey mus' hab a jack-o'-lantern
+or de fun all sp'iled. So dat li'l' black
+boy whut he name is Mose he done got to fotch a
+pumpkin from de pumpkin-patch down de hollow.
+So he step'outen de shanty an' he stan' on de doorstep
+twell he get' he eyes pried open as big as de
+bottom ob he ma's wash-tub, mostly, an' he say',
+&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo; An' he put' one foot on de
+ground, an' dat was de fust step.</p>
+
+<p>An' de rain-dove say', &ldquo;OO-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step.</p>
+
+<p>An' de owl mourn' out, &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step.</p>
+
+<p>An' de wind sob' out, &ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he tuck one look ober he
+shoulder, an' he shut he eyes so tight dey hurt
+round de aidges, an' he pick' up he foots an' run.
+Yas, sah, he run' right peart fast. An' he say':
+&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts. Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo; An'
+he run' erlong de paff whut lead' by de buryin'-ground
+on de hill, 'ca'se dey ain't no fince eround
+dat buryin'-ground <i>at</i> all.</p>
+
+<p>No fince; jes' de big trees whut de owls an' de
+rain-doves sot in an' mourn an' sob, an' whut de
+wind sigh an' cry frough. An byme-by somefin'
+jes' <i>brush</i>' li'l' Mose on de arm, which mek' him run
+jes a bit more faster. An' byme-by somefin' jes
+brush' li'l' Mose on de cheek, which mek' him run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+erbout as fast as he can. An' byme-by somefin'
+grab' li'l' Mose by de aidge of he coat, an' he fight'
+an' struggle' an' cry out: &ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.
+Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo; An' dat ain't nuffin' but de
+wild brier whut grab' him, an' dat ain't nuffin' but
+de leaf ob a tree whut brush' he cheek, an' dat
+ain't nuffin' but de branch ob a hazel-bush whut
+brush' he arm. But he downright scared jes de
+same, an' he ain't lose no time, 'ca'se de wind an' de
+owls an' de rain-doves dey signerfy whut ain't no
+good. So he scoot' past dat buryin'-ground whut
+on de hill, an' dat cemuntary whut betwixt an' between,
+an' dat grabeyard in de hollow, twell he
+come' to de pumpkin-patch, an' he rotch' down
+an' tek' erhold ob de bestest pumpkin whut in
+de patch. An' he right smart scared. He jes'
+de mostest scared li'l' black boy whut yever
+was. He ain't gwine open he eyes fo' nuffin',
+'ca'se de wind go, &ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de owls
+go, &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de rain-doves go,
+&ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He jes speculate', &ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts,&rdquo; an'
+wish' he hair don't stand on ind dat way. An' he
+jes cogitate', &ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts,&rdquo; an' wish' he
+goose-pimples don't rise up dat way. An' he jes
+'low', &ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts,&rdquo; an' wish' he backbone
+ain't all trembulous wid chills dat way. So he
+rotch' down, an' he rotch' down, twell he git' a good
+hold on dat pricklesome stem of dat bestest pumpkin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+whut in de patch, an' he jes yank' dat stem wid
+all he might.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Let loosen my head!</i>&rdquo; say' a big voice all on a
+suddent.</p>
+
+<p>Dat li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose he
+jump' 'most outen he skin. He open' he eyes, an'
+he 'gin to shake like de aspen-tree, 'ca'se whut dat
+a-standin' right dar behint him but a 'mendjous
+big ghost! Yas, sah, dat de bigges', whites' ghost
+whut yever was. An' it ain't got no head. Ain't
+got no head <i>at</i> all! Li'l' black Mose he jes drap'
+on he knees an' he beg' an' pray':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, 'scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost!&rdquo;
+he beg'. &ldquo;Ah ain't mean no harm <i>at</i> all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whut for you try to take my head?&rdquo; ask' de
+ghost in dat fearsome voice whut like de damp wind
+outen de cellar.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!&rdquo; beg' li'l' Mose. &ldquo;Ah
+ain't know dat was yo' head, an' I ain't know you
+was dar <i>at</i> all. 'Scuse me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah 'scuse you ef you do me dis favor,&rdquo; say' de
+ghost. &ldquo;Ah got somefin' powerful <i>im</i>portant to
+say unto you, an' Ah can't say hit 'ca'se Ah ain't
+got no head; an' whin Ah ain't got no head, Ah
+ain't got no mouf, an' whin Ah ain't got no mouf,
+Ah can't talk <i>at</i> all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' dat right logical fo' shore. Can't nobody
+talk whin he ain't got no mouf, an' can't nobody
+have no mouf whin he ain't got no head, an' whin
+li'l' black Mose he look', he see' dat ghost ain't got
+no head <i>at</i> all. Nary head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So de ghost say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah come on down yere fo' to git a pumpkin fo'
+a head, an' Ah pick' dat <i>ixact</i> pumpkin whut yo'
+gwine tek, an' Ah don't like dat one bit. No, sah.
+Ah feel like Ah pick yo' up an' carry yo' away, an'
+nobody see you no more for yever. But Ah got
+somefin' powerful <i>im</i>portant to say unto yo', an'
+if yo' pick up dat pumpkin an' sot it on de place
+whar my head ought to be, Ah let you off dis time,
+'ca'se Ah ain't been able to talk fo' so long Ah right
+hongry to say somefin'.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So li'l' black Mose he heft up dat pumpkin, an'
+de ghost he bend' down, an' li'l' black Mose he sot
+dat pumpkin on dat ghostses neck. An' right off
+dat pumpkin head 'gin' to wink an' blink like a
+jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat pumpkin head
+'gin' to glimmer an' glow frough de mouf like a
+jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat ghost start' to
+speak. Yas, sah, dass so.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whut yo' want to say unto me?&rdquo; <i>in</i>quire' li'l'
+black Mose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah want to tell yo',&rdquo; say' de ghost, &ldquo;dat yo'
+ain't need yever be skeered of ghosts, 'ca'se dey
+ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' whin he say dat, de ghost jes vanish' away
+like de smoke in July. He ain't even linger round
+dat locality like de smoke in Yoctober. He jes
+dissipate' outen de air, an' he gone <i>in</i>tirely.</p>
+
+<p>So li'l' Mose he grab' up de nex' bestest pumpkin
+an' he scoot'. An' whin he come' to de grabeyard
+in de hollow, he goin' erlong same as yever,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+on'y faster, whin he reckon' he'll pick up a club <i>in</i>
+case he gwine have trouble. An' he rotch' down
+an' rotch' down an' tek' hold of a likely appearin'
+hunk o' wood whut right dar. An' whin he grab'
+dat hunk of wood&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Let loosen my leg!</i>&rdquo; say' a big voice all on a
+suddent.</p>
+
+<p>Dat li'l' black boy 'most jump' outen he skin,
+'ca'se right dar in de paff is six 'mendjus big ghostes
+an' de bigges' ain't got but one leg. So li'l' black
+Mose jes natchully handed dat hunk of wood to
+dat bigges' ghost, an' he say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost; Ah ain't know dis
+your leg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' whut dem six ghostes do but stand round an'
+confabulate? Yas, sah, dass so. An' whin dey do
+so, one say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Pears like dis a mighty likely li'l' black boy.
+Whut we gwine do fo' to <i>re</i>ward him fo' politeness?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' annuder say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell him whut de truth is 'bout ghostes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So de bigges' ghost he say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah gwine tell yo' somefin' <i>im</i>portant whut
+yever'body don't know: Dey <i>ain't</i> no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' whin he say' dat, de ghostes jes natchully
+vanish away, an' li'l' black Mose he proceed' up
+de paff. He so scared he hair jes yank' at de roots,
+an' whin de wind go', &ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de owl
+go', &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de rain-doves go,
+&ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o-!&rdquo; he jes tremble' an' shake'. An'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+byme-by he come' to de cemuntary whut betwixt
+an' between, an' he shore is mighty skeered, 'ca'se
+dey is a whole comp'ny of ghostes lined up along
+de road, an' he 'low' he ain't gwine spind no more
+time palaverin' wid ghostes. So he step' offen de
+road fo' to go round erbout, an' he step' on a pine-stump
+whut lay right dar.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Git offen my chest!</i>&rdquo; say' a big voice all on a
+suddent, 'ca'se dat stump am been selected by de
+captain ob de ghostes for to be he chest, 'ca'se he
+ain't got no chest betwixt he shoulders an' he legs.
+An' li'l' black Mose he hop' offen dat stump right
+peart. Yes, <i>sah</i>; right peart.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!&rdquo; dat li'l' black Mose
+beg' an' plead', an' de ghostes ain't know whuther
+to eat him all up or not, 'ca'se he step on de boss
+ghostes's chest dat a-way. But byme-by they 'low
+they let him go 'ca'se dat was an accident, an' de
+captain ghost he say', &ldquo;Mose, you Mose, Ah gwine
+let you off dis time, 'ca'se you ain't nuffin' but a
+misabul li'l' tremblin' nigger; but Ah want you
+should <i>re</i>mimimber one thing mos' particular'.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ya-yas, sah,&rdquo; say' dat li'l' black boy; &ldquo;Ah'll
+remimber. Whut is dat Ah got to remimber?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>De captain ghost he swell' up, an' he swell' up,
+twell he as big as a house, an' he say' in a voice
+whut shake' de ground:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So li'l' black Mose he bound to remimber dat,
+an' he rise' up an' mek' a bow, an' he proceed' toward
+home right libely. He do, indeed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>An' he gwine along jes as fast as he kin, whin he
+come' to de aidge ob de buryin'-ground whut on de
+hill, an' right dar he bound to stop, 'ca'se de kentry
+round about am so populate' he ain't able to go
+frough. Yas, sah, seem' like all de ghostes in de
+world habin' a conferince right dar. Seem' like all
+de ghosteses whut yever was am havin' a convintion
+on dat spot. An' dat li'l' black Mose so
+skeered he jes fall' down on a' old log whut dar an'
+screech' an' moan'. An' all on a suddent de log
+up and spoke:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Get offen me! Get offen me!</i>&rdquo; yell' dat log.</p>
+
+<p>So li'l' black Mose he git' offen dat log, an' no
+mistake.</p>
+
+<p>An' soon as he git' offen de log, de log uprise, an'
+li'l' black Mose he see' dat dat log am de king ob
+all de ghostes. An' whin de king uprise, all de congergation
+crowd round li'l' black Mose, an' dey
+am about leben millium an' a few lift over. Yas,
+sah; dat de reg'lar annyul Hallowe'en convintion
+whut li'l' black Mose interrup'. Right dar am all
+de sperits in de world, an' all de ha'nts in de world,
+an' all de hobgoblins in de world, an' all de ghouls
+in de world, an' all de spicters in de world, an' all de
+ghostes in de world. An' whin dey see li'l' black
+Mose, dey all gnash dey teef an' grin' 'ca'se it
+gettin' erlong toward dey-all's lunch-time. So de
+king, whut he name old Skull-an'-Bones, he step'
+on top ob li'l' Mose's head, an' he say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gin'l'min, de convintion will come to order.
+De sicretary please note who is prisint. De firs'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+business whut come' before de convintion am: whut
+we gwine do to a li'l' black boy whut stip' on de
+king an' maul' all ober de king an' treat' de king
+dat disrespictful'.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An li'l' black Mose jes moan' an' sob':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah King! Ah ain't
+mean no harm <i>at</i> all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But nobody ain't pay no <i>at</i>tintion to him <i>at</i> all,
+'ca'se yevery one lookin' at a monstrous big ha'nt
+whut name Bloody Bones, whut rose up an'
+spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your Honor, Mistah King, an' gin'l'min <i>an</i>'
+ladies,&rdquo; he say', &ldquo;dis am a right bad case ob <i>lasy
+majesty</i>, 'ca'se de king been step on. Whin yivery
+li'l' black boy whut choose' gwine wander round <i>at</i>
+night an' stip on de king ob ghostes, it ain't no
+time for to palaver, it ain't no time for to prevaricate,
+it ain't no time for to cogitate, it ain't no time
+do nuffin' but tell de truth, an' de whole truth, an'
+nuffin' but de truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' all dem ghostes sicond de motion, an' dey
+confabulate out loud erbout dat, an' de noise soun'
+like de rain-doves goin', &ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de
+owls goin', &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de wind goin',
+&ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; So dat risolution am passed
+unanermous, an' no mistake.</p>
+
+<p>So de king ob de ghostes, whut name old Skull-an'-Bones,
+he place' he hand on de head ob li'l'
+black Mose, an' he hand feel like a wet rag, an' he
+say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>An' one ob de hairs whut on de head of li'l' black
+Mose turn' white.</p>
+
+<p>An' de monstrous big ha'nt whut he name
+Bloody Bones he lay he hand on de head ob li'l'
+black Mose, an' he hand feel like a toadstool in de
+cool ob de day, an' he say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li'l'
+black Mose turn' white.</p>
+
+<p>An' a heejus sperit whut he name Moldy Pa'm
+place' he hand on de head ob li'l' black Mose, an'
+he hand feel like de yunner side ob a lizard, an' he
+say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li'l'
+black Mose turn white <i>as</i> snow.</p>
+
+<p>An' a perticklar bend-up hobgoblin he put' he
+hand on de head ob li'l' black Mose, an' he mek'
+dat same <i>re</i>mark, an' dat whole convintion ob
+ghostes an' spicters an' ha'nts an' yiver'thing,
+which am more 'n a millium, pass by so quick dey-all's
+hands feel lak de wind whut blow outen de
+cellar whin de day am hot, an' dey-all say, &ldquo;Dey
+ain't no ghosts.&rdquo; Yas, sah, dey-all say dem wo'ds
+so fas' it soun' like de wind whin it moan frough de
+turkentine-trees whut behind de cider-priss. An'
+yivery hair whut on li'l' black Mose's head turn'
+white. Dat whut happen' whin a li'l' black boy
+gwine meet a ghost convintion dat-a-way. Dat's
+so he ain' gwine forgit to remimber dey ain't no
+ghostes. 'Ca'se ef a li'l' black boy gwine imaginate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
+dey <i>is</i> ghostes, he gwine be skeered in de dark. An'
+dat a foolish thing for to imaginate.</p>
+
+<p>So prisintly all de ghostes am whiff away, like
+de fog outen de holler whin de wind blow' on it, an'
+li'l' black Mose he ain' see no ca'se for to remain in
+dat locality no longer. He rotch' down, an' he
+raise' up de pumpkin, an' he perambulate' right
+quick to he ma's shack, an' he lift' up de latch, an'
+he open' de do', an' he yenter' in. An' he say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yere's de pumpkin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' he ma an' he pa, an' Sally Ann, whut live
+up de road, an' Mistah Sally Ann, whut her husban',
+an' Zack Badget, an' de school-teacher whut
+board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, an' all de powerful
+lot of folks whut come to de doin's, dey all
+scrooged back in de cornder ob de shack, 'ca'se
+Zack Badget he been done tell a ghost-tale, an' de
+rain-doves gwine, &ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' de owls am
+gwine, &ldquo;Whut-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; and de wind it gwine,
+&ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' yiver'body powerful skeered.
+'Ca'se li'l' black Mose he come' a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin'
+at de do' jes whin dat ghost-tale mos'
+skeery, an' yiver'body gwine imaginate dat he a
+ghost a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do'. Yas, sah.
+So li'l' black Mose he turn' he white head, an' he
+look' roun' an' peer' roun', an' he say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whut you all skeered fo'?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>'Ca'se ef anybody skeered, he want' to be skeered
+too. Dat's natural. But de school-teacher, whut
+live at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fo' de lan's sake, we fought you was a ghost!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So li'l' black Mose he sort ob sniff an' he sort ob
+sneer, an' he 'low':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huh! dey ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Den he ma she powerful took back dat li'l' black
+Mose he gwine be so uppetish an' contrydict folks
+whut know 'rifmeticks an' algebricks an' gin'ral
+countin' widout fingers, like de school-teacher whut
+board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house knows, an' she
+say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Huh! whut you know 'bout ghosts, anner
+ways?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he jes kinder stan' on one
+foot, an' he jes kinder suck' he thumb, an' he jes
+kinder 'low':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't know nuffin' erbout ghosts, 'ca'se dey
+ain't no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So he pa gwine whop him fo' tellin' a fib 'bout
+dey ain' no ghosts whin yiver'body know' dey is
+ghosts; but de school-teacher, whut board at Unc'
+Silas Diggs's house, she tek' note de hair ob li'l'
+black Mose's head am plumb white, an' she tek'
+note li'l' black Mose's face am de color ob wood-ash,
+so she jes retch' one arm round dat li'l' black
+boy, an' she jes snuggle' him up, an' she say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Honey lamb, don't you be skeered; ain' nobody
+gwine hurt you. How you know dey ain't no
+ghosts?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he kinder lean' up 'g'inst de
+school-teacher whut board at Unc' Silas Diggs's
+house, an' he 'low':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Ca'se&mdash;'ca'se&mdash;'ca'se I met de cap'n ghost, an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+I met de gin'ral ghost, an' I met de king ghost, an'
+I met all de ghostes whut yiver was in de whole
+worl', an' yivery ghost say' de same thing: 'Dey
+ain't no ghosts.' An' if de cap'n ghost an' de
+gin'ral ghost an' de king ghost an' all de ghostes in
+de whole worl' don't know ef dar am ghostes, who
+does?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Das right; das right, honey lamb,&rdquo; say' de
+school-teacher. And she say': &ldquo;I been s'picious
+dey ain' no ghostes dis long whiles, an' now I know.
+Ef all de ghostes say dey ain' no ghosts, dey <i>ain'</i>
+no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So yiver'body 'low' dat so 'cep' Zack Badget,
+whut been tellin' de ghost-tale, an' he ain' gwine
+say &ldquo;Yis&rdquo; an' he ain' gwine say &ldquo;No,&rdquo; 'ca'se he
+right sweet on de school-teacher; but he know
+right well he done seen plinty ghostes in he day.
+So he boun' to be sure fust. So he say' to li'l' black
+Mose:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'T ain't likely you met up wid a monstrous big
+ha'nt whut live' down de lane whut he name
+Bloody Bones?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yas,&rdquo; say' li'l' black Mose; &ldquo;I done met up
+wid him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An' did old Bloody Bones done tol' you dey
+ain' no ghosts?&rdquo; say Zack Badget.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yas,&rdquo; say' li'l' black Mose, &ldquo;he done tell me
+perzackly dat.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if <i>he</i> tol' you dey ain't no ghosts,&rdquo; say'
+Zack Badget, &ldquo;I got to 'low dey ain't no ghosts,
+'ca'se he ain' gwine tell no lie erbout it. I know dat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+Bloody Bones ghost sence I was a piccaninny, an'
+I done met up wif him a powerful lot o' times, an'
+he ain't gwine tell no lie erbout it. Ef dat perticklar
+ghost say' dey ain't no ghosts, dey <i>ain't</i> no
+ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So yiver'body say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Das right; dey ain' no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' dat mek' li'l' black Mose feel mighty good,
+'ca'se he ain' lak ghostes. He reckon' he gwine be
+a heap mo' comfortable in he mind sence he know'
+dey ain' no ghosts, an' he reckon' he ain' gwine be
+skeered of nuffin' never no more. He ain' gwine
+min' de dark, an' he ain' gwine min' de rain-doves
+whut go', &ldquo;Oo-<i>oo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' he ain' gwine min' de
+owls whut go', &ldquo;Who-<i>whoo</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo; an' he ain'
+gwine min' de wind whut go', &ldquo;You-<i>you</i>-o-o-o!&rdquo;
+nor nuffin', nohow. He gwine be brave as a lion,
+sence he know' fo' sure dey ain' no ghosts. So
+prisintly he ma say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, time fo' a li'l' black boy whut he name is
+Mose to be gwine up de ladder to de loft to bed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he 'low' he gwine wait a bit.
+He 'low' he gwine jes wait a li'l' bit. He 'low' he
+gwine be no trouble <i>at</i> all ef he jes been let wait
+twell he ma she gwine up de ladder to de loft to
+bed, too. So he ma she say':</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Git erlong wid yo'! Whut yo' skeered ob whin
+dey ain't no ghosts?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>An' li'l' black Mose he scrooge', and he twist',
+an' he pucker' up de mouf, an' he rub' he eyes, an'
+prisintly he say' right low:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ain' skeered ob ghosts whut am, 'ca'se dey
+ain' no ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Den whut <i>am</i> yo' skeered ob?&rdquo; ask he ma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nuffin,&rdquo; say' de li'l' black boy whut he name
+is Mose; &ldquo;but I jes feel kinder oneasy 'bout de
+ghosts whut ain't.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jes lak white folks! Jes lak white folks!</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_TRANSFERRED_GHOST" id="THE_TRANSFERRED_GHOST"></a>THE TRANSFERRED GHOST</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> FRANK R. STOCKTON</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>The Lady or the Tiger? and Other Stories.</i> Copyright,
+1884, by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of the publishers.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>The Transferred Ghost</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> FRANK R. STOCKTON</h4>
+
+
+<p>The country residence of Mr. John Hinckman
+was a delightful place to me, for many reasons. It
+was the abode of a genial, though somewhat impulsive,
+hospitality. It had broad, smooth-shaven
+lawns and towering oaks and elms; there were
+bosky shades at several points, and not far from
+the house there was a little rill spanned by a rustic
+bridge with the bark on; there were fruits and
+flowers, pleasant people, chess, billiards, rides,
+walks, and fishing. These were great attractions;
+but none of them, nor all of them together, would
+have been sufficient to hold me to the place very
+long. I had been invited for the trout season, but
+should, probably, have finished my visit early in
+the summer had it not been that upon fair days,
+when the grass was dry, and the sun was not too
+hot, and there was but little wind, there strolled
+beneath the lofty elms, or passed lightly through
+the bosky shades, the form of my Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>This lady was not, in very truth, my Madeline.
+She had never given herself to me, nor had I, in
+any way, acquired possession of her. But as I
+considered her possession the only sufficient reason<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+for the continuance of my existence, I called her,
+in my reveries, mine. It may have been that I
+would not have been obliged to confine the use of
+this possessive pronoun to my reveries had I confessed
+the state of my feelings to the lady.</p>
+
+<p>But this was an unusually difficult thing to do.
+Not only did I dread, as almost all lovers dread,
+taking the step which would in an instant put an
+end to that delightful season which may be termed
+the ante-interrogatory period of love, and which
+might at the same time terminate all intercourse
+or connection with the object of my passion; but
+I was, also, dreadfully afraid of John Hinckman.
+This gentleman was a good friend of mine, but it
+would have required a bolder man than I was at
+that time to ask him for the gift of his niece, who
+was the head of his household, and, according to
+his own frequent statement, the main prop of his
+declining years. Had Madeline acquiesced in my
+general views on the subject, I might have felt
+encouraged to open the matter to Mr. Hinckman;
+but, as I said before, I had never asked her whether
+or not she would be mine. I thought of these
+things at all hours of the day and night, particularly
+the latter.</p>
+
+<p>I was lying awake one night, in the great bed in
+my spacious chamber, when, by the dim light of the
+new moon, which partially filled the room, I saw
+John Hinckman standing by a large chair near the
+door. I was very much surprised at this for two
+reasons. In the first place, my host had never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+before come into my room; and, in the second
+place, he had gone from home that morning, and
+had not expected to return for several days. It
+was for this reason that I had been able that evening
+to sit much later than usual with Madeline on
+the moonlit porch. The figure was certainly that
+of John Hinckman in his ordinary dress, but there
+was a vagueness and indistinctness about it which
+presently assured me that it was a ghost. Had the
+good old man been murdered? and had his spirit
+come to tell me of the deed, and to confide to me
+the protection of his dear&mdash;? My heart fluttered
+at what I was about to think, but at this instant
+the figure spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you know,&rdquo; he said, with a countenance
+that indicated anxiety, &ldquo;if Mr. Hinckman will return
+to-night?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I thought it well to maintain a calm exterior, and
+I answered:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We do not expect him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad of that,&rdquo; said he, sinking into the
+chair by which he stood. &ldquo;During the two years
+and a half that I have inhabited this house,
+that man has never before been away for a
+single night. You can't imagine the relief it gives
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And as he spoke he stretched out his legs, and
+leaned back in the chair. His form became less
+vague, and the colors of his garments more distinct
+and evident, while an expression of gratified relief
+succeeded to the anxiety of his countenance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two years and a half!&rdquo; I exclaimed. &ldquo;I don't
+understand you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is fully that length of time,&rdquo; said the ghost,
+&ldquo;since I first came here. Mine is not an ordinary
+case. But before I say anything more about it,
+let me ask you again if you are sure Mr. Hinckman
+will not return to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am as sure of it as I can be of anything,&rdquo; I
+answered. &ldquo;He left to-day for Bristol, two hundred
+miles away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I will go on,&rdquo; said the ghost, &ldquo;for I am
+glad to have the opportunity of talking to someone
+who will listen to me; but if John Hinckman
+should come in and catch me here, I should be
+frightened out of my wits.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is all very strange,&rdquo; I said, greatly puzzled
+by what I had heard. &ldquo;Are you the ghost of Mr.
+Hinckman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was a bold question, but my mind was so
+full of other emotions that there seemed to be no
+room for that of fear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am his ghost,&rdquo; my companion replied,
+&ldquo;and yet I have no right to be. And this is what
+makes me so uneasy, and so much afraid of him.
+It is a strange story, and, I truly believe, without
+precedent. Two years and a half ago, John Hinckman
+was dangerously ill in this very room. At
+one time he was so far gone that he was really
+believed to be dead. It was in consequence of too
+precipitate a report in regard to this matter that
+I was, at that time, appointed to be his ghost.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+Imagine my surprise and horror, sir, when, after
+I had accepted the position and assumed its responsibilities,
+that old man revived, became convalescent,
+and eventually regained his usual health.
+My situation was now one of extreme delicacy and
+embarrassment. I had no power to return to my
+original unembodiment, and I had no right to be
+the ghost of a man who was not dead. I was advised
+by my friends to quietly maintain my position,
+and was assured that, as John Hinckman was
+an elderly man, it could not be long before I could
+rightfully assume the position for which I had
+been selected. But I tell you, sir,&rdquo; he continued,
+with animation, &ldquo;the old fellow seems as vigorous
+as ever, and I have no idea how much longer this
+annoying state of things will continue. I spend
+my time trying to get out of that old man's way.
+I must not leave this house, and he seems to follow
+me everywhere. I tell you, sir, he haunts me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is truly a queer state of things,&rdquo; I remarked.
+&ldquo;But why are you afraid of him? He
+couldn't hurt you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course he couldn't,&rdquo; said the ghost. &ldquo;But
+his very presence is a shock and terror to me.
+Imagine, sir, how you would feel if my case were
+yours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I could not imagine such a thing at all. I simply
+shuddered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if one must be a wrongful ghost at all,&rdquo; the
+apparition continued, &ldquo;it would be much pleasanter
+to be the ghost of some man other than John<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+Hinckman. There is in him an irascibility of
+temper, accompanied by a facility of invective,
+which is seldom met with. And what would
+happen if he were to see me, and find out, as I am
+sure he would, how long and why I had inhabited
+his house, I can scarcely conceive. I have seen
+him in his bursts of passion; and, although he did
+not hurt the people he stormed at any more than
+he would hurt me, they seemed to shrink before
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>All this I knew to be very true. Had it not been
+for this peculiarity of Mr. Hinckman, I might have
+been more willing to talk to him about his niece.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I feel sorry for you,&rdquo; I said, for I really began
+to have a sympathetic feeling toward this unfortunate
+apparition. &ldquo;Your case is indeed a hard
+one. It reminds me of those persons who have had
+doubles, and I suppose a man would often be very
+angry indeed when he found that there was another
+being who was personating himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! the cases are not similar at all,&rdquo; said the
+ghost. &ldquo;A double or <i>doppelg&auml;nger</i> lives on the
+earth with a man; and, being exactly like him, he
+makes all sorts of trouble, of course. It is very
+different with me. I am not here to live with Mr.
+Hinckman. I am here to take his place. Now, it
+would make John Hinckman very angry if he knew
+that. Don't you know it would?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I assented promptly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now that he is away I can be easy for a little
+while,&rdquo; continued the ghost; &ldquo;and I am so glad to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+have an opportunity of talking to you. I have
+frequently come into your room, and watched you
+while you slept, but did not dare to speak to you
+for fear that if you talked with me Mr. Hinckman
+would hear you, and come into the room to know
+why you were talking to yourself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But would he not hear you?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no!&rdquo; said the other: &ldquo;there are times when
+anyone may see me, but no one hears me except
+the person to whom I address myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But why did you wish to speak to me?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because,&rdquo; replied the ghost, &ldquo;I like occasionally
+to talk to people, and especially to someone
+like yourself, whose mind is so troubled and perturbed
+that you are not likely to be frightened by
+a visit from one of us. But I particularly wanted
+to ask you to do me a favor. There is every probability,
+so far as I can see, that John Hinckman
+will live a long time, and my situation is becoming
+insupportable. My great object at present is to
+get myself transferred, and I think that you may,
+perhaps, be of use to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Transferred!&rdquo; I exclaimed. &ldquo;What do you
+mean by that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What I mean,&rdquo; said the other, &ldquo;is this: Now
+that I have started on my career I have got to be
+the ghost of somebody, and I want to be the ghost
+of a man who is really dead.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should think that would be easy enough,&rdquo; I
+said. &ldquo;Opportunities must continually occur.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not at all! not at all!&rdquo; said my companion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+quickly. &ldquo;You have no idea what a rush and
+pressure there is for situations of this kind. Whenever
+a vacancy occurs, if I may express myself in
+that way, there are crowds of applications for the
+ghost-ship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I had no idea that such a state of things
+existed,&rdquo; I said, becoming quite interested in the
+matter. &ldquo;There ought to be some regular system,
+or order of precedence, by which you could all take
+your turns like customers in a barber's shop.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh dear, that would never do at all!&rdquo; said the
+other. &ldquo;Some of us would have to wait forever.
+There is always a great rush whenever a good
+ghost-ship offers itself&mdash;while, as you know, there
+are some positions that no one would care for.
+And it was in consequence of my being in too great
+a hurry on an occasion of the kind that I got myself
+into my present disagreeable predicament, and
+I have thought that it might be possible that you
+would help me out of it. You might know of a case
+where an opportunity for a ghost-ship was not
+generally expected, but which might present itself
+at any moment. If you would give me a short
+notice, I know I could arrange for a transfer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; I exclaimed. &ldquo;Do you
+want me to commit suicide? Or to undertake a
+murder for your benefit?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no, no, no!&rdquo; said the other, with a vapory
+smile. &ldquo;I mean nothing of that kind. To be sure,
+there are lovers who are watched with considerable
+interest, such persons having been known, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
+moments of depression, to offer very desirable
+ghost-ships; but I did not think of anything of
+that kind in connection with you. You were the
+only person I cared to speak to, and I hoped that
+you might give me some information that would
+be of use; and, in return, I shall be very glad to
+help you in your love affair.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You seem to know that I have such an affair,&rdquo;
+I said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes!&rdquo; replied the other, with a little yawn.
+&ldquo;I could not be here so much as I have been without
+knowing all about that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was something horrible in the idea of
+Madeline and myself having been watched by a
+ghost, even, perhaps, when we wandered together
+in the most delightful and bosky places. But,
+then, this was quite an exceptional ghost, and I
+could not have the objections to him which would
+ordinarily arise in regard to beings of his class.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must go now,&rdquo; said the ghost, rising: &ldquo;but I
+will see you somewhere to-morrow night. And remember&mdash;you
+help me, and I'll help you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I had doubts the next morning as to the propriety
+of telling Madeline anything about this
+interview, and soon convinced myself that I must
+keep silent on the subject. If she knew there was
+a ghost about the house, she would probably leave
+the place instantly. I did not mention the matter,
+and so regulated my demeanor that I am quite
+sure Madeline never suspected what had taken
+place. For some time I had wished that Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
+Hinckman would absent himself, for a day at least,
+from the premises. In such case I thought I might
+more easily nerve myself up to the point of speaking
+to Madeline on the subject of our future collateral
+existence; and, now that the opportunity
+for such speech had really occurred, I did not feel
+ready to avail myself of it. What would become
+of me if she refused me?</p>
+
+<p>I had an idea, however, that the lady thought
+that, if I were going to speak at all, this was the
+time. She must have known that certain sentiments
+were afloat within me, and she was not unreasonable
+in her wish to see the matter settled one
+way or the other. But I did not feel like taking a
+bold step in the dark. If she wished me to ask
+her to give herself to me, she ought to offer me some
+reason to suppose that she would make the gift.
+If I saw no probability of such generosity, I would
+prefer that things should remain as they were.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>That evening I was sitting with Madeline in the
+moonlit porch. It was nearly ten o'clock, and ever
+since supper-time I had been working myself up to
+the point of making an avowal of my sentiments.
+I had not positively determined to do this, but
+wished gradually to reach the proper point, when,
+if the prospect looked bright, I might speak. My
+companion appeared to understand the situation&mdash;at
+least, I imagined that the nearer I came to a
+proposal the more she seemed to expect it. It was
+certainly a very critical and important epoch in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+my life. If I spoke, I should make myself happy or
+miserable forever, and if I did not speak I had
+every reason to believe that the lady would not
+give me another chance to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Sitting thus with Madeline, talking a little, and
+thinking very hard over these momentous matters,
+I looked up and saw the ghost, not a dozen feet
+away from us. He was sitting on the railing of the
+porch, one leg thrown up before him, the other
+dangling down as he leaned against a post. He was
+behind Madeline, but almost in front of me, as I
+sat facing the lady. It was fortunate that Madeline
+was looking out over the landscape, for I must
+have appeared very much startled. The ghost had
+told me that he would see me some time this night,
+but I did not think he would make his appearance
+when I was in the company of Madeline. If she
+should see the spirit of her uncle, I could not
+answer for the consequences. I made no exclamation,
+but the ghost evidently saw that I was
+troubled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don't be afraid,&rdquo; he said&mdash;&ldquo;I shall not let her
+see me; and she cannot hear me speak unless I address
+myself to her, which I do not intend to do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I suppose I looked grateful.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So you need not trouble yourself about that,&rdquo;
+the ghost continued; &ldquo;but it seems to me that you
+are not getting along very well with your affair.
+If I were you, I should speak out without waiting
+any longer. You will never have a better chance.
+You are not likely to be interrupted; and, so far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+as I can judge, the lady seems disposed to listen to
+you favorably; that is, if she ever intends to do so.
+There is no knowing when John Hinckman will go
+away again; certainly not this summer. If I were
+in your place, I should never dare to make love to
+Hinckman's niece if he were anywhere about the
+place. If he should catch anyone offering himself
+to Miss Madeline, he would then be a terrible man
+to encounter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I agreed perfectly to all this.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot bear to think of him!&rdquo; I ejaculated
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Think of whom?&rdquo; asked Madeline, turning
+quickly toward me.</p>
+
+<p>Here was an awkward situation. The long
+speech of the ghost, to which Madeline paid no
+attention, but which I heard with perfect distinctness,
+had made me forget myself.</p>
+
+<p>It was necessary to explain quickly. Of course,
+it would not do to admit that it was of her dear
+uncle that I was speaking; and so I mentioned
+hastily the first name I thought of.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Vilars,&rdquo; I said.</p>
+
+<p>This statement was entirely correct; for I never
+could bear to think of Mr. Vilars, who was a gentleman
+who had, at various times, paid much attention
+to Madeline.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is wrong for you to speak in that way of Mr.
+Vilars,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;He is a remarkably well educated
+and sensible young man, and has very
+pleasant manners. He expects to be elected to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+legislature this fall, and I should not be surprised if
+he made his mark. He will do well in a legislative
+body, for whenever Mr. Vilars has anything to
+say he knows just how and when to say it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was spoken very quietly, and without any
+show of resentment, which was all very natural,
+for if Madeline thought at all favorably of me she
+could not feel displeased that I should have disagreeable
+emotions in regard to a possible rival.
+The concluding words contained a hint which I
+was not slow to understand. I felt very sure that
+if Mr. Vilars were in my present position he would
+speak quickly enough.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know it is wrong to have such ideas about a
+person,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;but I cannot help it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The lady did not chide me, and after this she
+seemed even in a softer mood. As for me, I felt
+considerably annoyed, for I had not wished to
+admit that any thought of Mr. Vilars had ever
+occupied my mind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You should not speak aloud that way,&rdquo; said
+the ghost, &ldquo;or you may get yourself into trouble.
+I want to see everything go well with you, because
+then you may be disposed to help me, especially if
+I should chance to be of any assistance to you,
+which I hope I shall be.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I longed to tell him that there was no way in
+which he could help me so much as by taking his
+instant departure. To make love to a young lady
+with a ghost sitting on the railing nearby, and that
+ghost the apparition of a much-dreaded uncle, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
+very idea of whom in such a position and at such a
+time made me tremble, was a difficult, if not an
+impossible, thing to do; but I forbore to speak,
+although I may have looked my mind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; continued the ghost, &ldquo;that you
+have not heard anything that might be of advantage
+to me. Of course, I am very anxious to hear;
+but if you have anything to tell me, I can wait
+until you are alone. I will come to you to-night
+in your room, or I will stay here until the lady goes
+away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You need not wait here,&rdquo; I said; &ldquo;I have nothing
+at all to say to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Madeline sprang to her feet, her face flushed and
+her eyes ablaze.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wait here!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;What do you suppose
+I am waiting for? Nothing to say to me indeed!&mdash;I
+should think so! What should you have to say
+to me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Madeline!&rdquo; I exclaimed, stepping toward her,
+&ldquo;let me explain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But she had gone.</p>
+
+<p>Here was the end of the world for me! I turned
+fiercely to the ghost.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wretched existence!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;You have
+ruined everything. You have blackened my whole
+life. Had it not been for you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But here my voice faltered. I could say no
+more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You wrong me,&rdquo; said the ghost. &ldquo;I have not
+injured you. I have tried only to encourage and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
+assist you, and it is your own folly that has done
+this mischief. But do not despair. Such mistakes
+as these can be explained. Keep up a brave heart.
+Good-by.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And he vanished from the railing like a bursting
+soap-bubble.</p>
+
+<p>I went gloomily to bed, but I saw no apparitions
+that night except those of despair and misery which
+my wretched thoughts called up. The words I had
+uttered had sounded to Madeline like the basest
+insult. Of course, there was only one interpretation
+she could put upon them.</p>
+
+<p>As to explaining my ejaculations, that was impossible.
+I thought the matter over and over again
+as I lay awake that night, and I determined that I
+would never tell Madeline the facts of the case. It
+would be better for me to suffer all my life than for
+her to know that the ghost of her uncle haunted
+the house. Mr. Hinckman was away, and if she
+knew of his ghost she could not be made to believe
+that he was not dead. She might not survive the
+shock! No, my heart could bleed, but I would
+never tell her.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was fine, neither too cool nor too
+warm; the breezes were gentle, and nature smiled.
+But there were no walks or rides with Madeline.
+She seemed to be much engaged during the day,
+and I saw but little of her. When we met at meals
+she was polite, but very quiet and reserved. She
+had evidently determined on a course of conduct
+and had resolved to assume that, although I had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
+been very rude to her, she did not understand the
+import of my words. It would be quite proper, of
+course, for her not to know what I meant by my
+expressions of the night before.</p>
+
+<p>I was downcast and wretched, and said but little,
+and the only bright streak across the black horizon
+of my woe was the fact that she did not appear to
+be happy, although she affected an air of unconcern.
+The moonlit porch was deserted that
+evening, but wandering about the house I found
+Madeline in the library alone. She was reading,
+but I went in and sat down near her. I felt that,
+although I could not do so fully, I must in a measure
+explain my conduct of the night before. She
+listened quietly to a somewhat labored apology
+I made for the words I had used.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have not the slightest idea what you meant,&rdquo;
+she said, &ldquo;but you were very rude.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I earnestly disclaimed any intention of rudeness,
+and assured her, with a warmth of speech that
+must have made some impression upon her, that
+rudeness to her would be an action impossible to
+me. I said a great deal upon the subject, and implored
+her to believe that if it were not for a certain
+obstacle I could speak to her so plainly that she
+would understand everything.</p>
+
+<p>She was silent for a time, and then she said,
+rather more kindly, I thought, than she had spoken
+before:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is that obstacle in any way connected with my
+uncle?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; I answered, after a little hesitation, &ldquo;it
+is, in a measure, connected with him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She made no answer to this, and sat looking at
+her book, but not reading. From the expression
+of her face, I thought she was somewhat softened
+toward me. She knew her uncle as well as I did,
+and she may have been thinking that, if he were
+the obstacle that prevented my speaking (and
+there were many ways in which he might be that
+obstacle), my position would be such a hard one
+that it would excuse some wildness of speech and
+eccentricity of manner. I saw, too, that the
+warmth of my partial explanations had had some
+effect on her, and I began to believe that it might
+be a good thing for me to speak my mind without
+delay. No matter how she should receive my proposition,
+my relations with her could not be worse
+than they had been the previous night and day,
+and there was something in her face which encouraged
+me to hope that she might forget my
+foolish exclamations of the evening before if I
+began to tell her my tale of love.</p>
+
+<p>I drew my chair a little nearer to her, and as I
+did so the ghost burst into the room from the doorway
+behind her. I say burst, although no door
+flew open and he made no noise. He was wildly
+excited, and waved his arms above his head. The
+moment I saw him, my heart fell within me. With
+the entrance of that impertinent apparition, every
+hope fled from me. I could not speak while he was
+in the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I must have turned pale; and I gazed steadfastly
+at the ghost, almost without seeing Madeline, who
+sat between us.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you know,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;that John Hinckman
+is coming up the hill? He will be here in
+fifteen minutes; and if you are doing anything in
+the way of love-making, you had better hurry it
+up. But this is not what I came to tell you. I
+have glorious news! At last I am transferred! Not
+forty minutes ago a Russian nobleman was murdered
+by the Nihilists. Nobody ever thought of
+him in connection with an immediate ghost-ship.
+My friends instantly applied for the situation for
+me, and obtained my transfer. I am off before
+that horrid Hinckman comes up the hill. The
+moment I reach my new position, I shall put off
+this hated semblance. Good-by. You can't imagine
+how glad I am to be, at last, the real ghost of
+somebody.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; I cried, rising to my feet, and stretching
+out my arms in utter wretchedness, &ldquo;I would to
+Heaven you were mine!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I <i>am</i> yours,&rdquo; said Madeline, raising to me her
+tearful eyes.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_MUMMYS_FOOT" id="THE_MUMMYS_FOOT"></a>THE MUMMY'S FOOT</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> TH&Eacute;OPHILE GAUTIER</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Translated for this volume by Sara Goldman.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Mummy's Foot</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> TH&Eacute;OPHILE GAUTIER</h4>
+
+
+<p>I had sauntered idly into the shop of one of those
+dealers in old curiosities&mdash;&ldquo;bric-&agrave;-brac&rdquo; as they
+say in that Parisian <i>argot</i>, so absolutely unintelligible
+elsewhere in France.</p>
+
+<p>You have no doubt often glanced through the
+windows of some of these shops, which have become
+numerous since it is so fashionable to buy
+antique furniture, that the humblest stockbroker
+feels obliged to have a room furnished in medieval
+style.</p>
+
+<p>Something is there which belongs alike to the
+shop of the dealer in old iron, the warehouse of
+the merchant, the laboratory of the chemist, and
+the studio of the painter: in all these mysterious
+recesses, where but a discreet half-light filters
+through the shutters, the most obviously antique
+thing is the dust: the cobwebs are more genuine
+than the laces, and the old pear-tree furniture is
+more modern than the mahogany which arrived
+but yesterday from America.</p>
+
+<p>The warehouse of my dealer in bric-&agrave;-brac was a
+veritable Capharna&uuml;m; all ages and all countries
+seemed to have arranged a rendezvous there; an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
+Etruscan terra cotta lamp stood upon a Boule
+cabinet, with ebony panels decorated with simple
+filaments of inlaid copper: a duchess of the reign of
+Louis XV stretched nonchalantly her graceful
+feet under a massive Louis XIII table with heavy,
+spiral oaken legs, and carvings of intermingled
+flowers and grotesque figures.</p>
+
+<p>In a corner glittered the ornamented breastplate
+of a suit of damaskeened armor of Milan. The
+shelves and floor were littered with porcelain cupids
+and nymphs, Chinese monkeys, vases of pale green
+enamel, cups of Dresden and old S&egrave;vres.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the denticulated shelves of sideboards,
+gleamed huge Japanese plaques, with red and blue
+designs outlined in gold, side by side with the
+enamels of Bernard Palissy, with serpents, frogs,
+and lizards in relief.</p>
+
+<p>From ransacked cabinets tumbled cascades of
+silvery-gleaming China silk, the shimmering brocade
+pricked into luminous beads by a slanting
+sunbeam; while portraits of every epoch smiled
+through their yellowed varnish from frames more
+or less tarnished.</p>
+
+<p>The dealer followed me watchfully through the
+tortuous passages winding between the piles of
+furniture, warding off with his hands the perilous
+swing of my coat tail, observing my elbows with
+the disquieting concern of an antiquarian and a
+usurer.</p>
+
+<p>He was an odd figure&mdash;this dealer; an enormous
+skull, smooth as a knee, was surrounded by a scant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
+aureole of white hair, which, by contrast, emphasized
+the salmon-colored tint of his complexion,
+and gave a wrong impression of patriarchal benevolence,
+corrected, however, by the glittering of
+two small, yellow eyes which shifted in their orbits
+like two <i>louis d'or</i> floating on quicksilver. The
+curve of his nose gave him an aquiline silhouette,
+which suggested the Oriental or Jewish type. His
+hands, long, slender, with prominent veins and
+sinews protruding like the strings on a violin, with
+nails like the claws on the membraneous wings of
+the bat moved with a senile trembling painful to
+behold, but those nervously quivering hands became
+firmer than pincers of steel, or the claws of a
+lobster, when they picked up any precious object,
+an onyx cup, a Venetian glass, or a platter of Bohemian
+crystal. This curious old fellow had an
+air so thoroughly rabbinical and cabalistic, that,
+from mere appearance, he would have been burned
+at the stake three centuries ago.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you not buy something from me to-day,
+sir? Here is a kris from Malay, with a blade which
+undulates like a flame; look at these grooves for
+the blood to drip from, these teeth reversed so as
+to tear out the entrails in withdrawing the weapon;
+it is a fine specimen of a ferocious weapon, and will
+be an interesting addition to your trophies; this
+two-handed sword is very beautiful&mdash;it is the
+work of Joseph de la Herz; and this <i>cauchelimarde</i>
+with its carved guard&mdash;what superb workmanship!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>&ldquo;No, I have enough weapons and instruments of
+carnage; I should like to have a small figure, any
+sort of object which can be used for a paper weight;
+for I cannot endure those commonplace bronzes
+for sale at the stationers which one sees invariably
+on everybody's desk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old gnome, rummaging among his ancient
+wares, displayed before me some antique bronzes&mdash;pseudo-antique,
+at least, fragments of malachite,
+little Hindu and Chinese idols, jade monkeys, incarnations
+of Brahma and Vishnu, marvelously
+suitable for the purpose&mdash;scarcely divine&mdash;of
+holding papers and letters in place.</p>
+
+<p>I was hesitating between a porcelain dragon
+covered with constellations of warts, its jaws embellished
+with teeth and tusks, and a hideous little
+Mexican fetish, representing realistically the god
+Vitziliputzili, when I noticed a charming foot,
+which at first I supposed was a fragment of some
+antique Venus.</p>
+
+<p>It had that beautiful tawny reddish tint, which
+gives the Florentine bronzes their warm, life-like
+appearance, so preferable to the verdigris tones of
+ordinary bronzes, which might be taken readily for
+statues in a state of putrefaction; a satiny luster
+gleamed over its curves, polished by the amorous
+kisses of twenty centuries; for it must have been a
+Corinthian bronze, a work of the finest period,
+molded perhaps by Lysippus himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That foot will do,&rdquo; I said to the dealer, who
+looked at me with an ironical, crafty expression, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+he handed me the object I asked for, so that I
+might examine it more carefully.</p>
+
+<p>I was surprised at its lightness. It was not a
+metal foot but in reality a foot of flesh, an embalmed
+foot, a mummy's foot; on examining it
+more closely, one could distinguish the grain of the
+skin, and the almost imperceptible imprint of the
+weave of the wrappings. The toes were slender,
+delicate, with perfect nails, pure and transparent
+as agate; the great toe, slightly separated from the
+others, in the antique manner was in pleasing contrast
+to the position of the other toes, and gave a
+suggestion of the freedom and lightness of a bird's
+foot. The sole, faintly streaked with almost invisible
+lines, showed that it had never touched the
+ground, or come in contact with anything but the
+finest mats woven from the rushes of the Nile, and
+the softest rugs of panther skin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha, ha! You want the foot of the Princess
+Hermonthis,&rdquo; said the dealer with a strange,
+mocking laugh, staring at me with his owlish eyes.
+&ldquo;Ha, ha, ha, for a paper weight! An original idea!
+an artist's idea! If anyone had told old Pharaoh
+that the foot of his adored daughter would be used
+for a paper weight, particularly whilst he was
+having a mountain of granite hollowed out in which
+to place her triple coffin, painted and gilded,
+covered with hieroglyphics, and beautiful pictures
+of the judgment of souls, it would truly have surprised
+him,&rdquo; continued the queer little dealer, in
+low tones, as though talking to himself.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>&ldquo;How much will you charge me for this fragment
+of a mummy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, as much as I can get; for it is a superb
+piece; if I had the mate to it, you could not have
+it for less than five hundred francs&mdash;the daughter
+of a Pharaoh! there could be nothing more choice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Assuredly it is not common; but, still, how
+much do you want for it? First, however, I want
+to acquaint you with one fact, which is, that my
+fortune consists of only five louis. I will buy anything
+that costs five louis, but nothing more expensive.
+You may search my vest pockets, and
+my most secret bureau drawers, but you will not
+find one miserable five franc piece besides.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Five louis for the foot of the Princess Hermonthis!
+It is very little, too little, in fact, for an
+authentic foot,&rdquo; said the dealer, shaking his head
+and rolling his eyes with a peculiar rotary motion.
+&ldquo;Very well, take it, and I will throw in the outer
+covering,&rdquo; he said, rolling it in a shred of old
+damask&mdash;&ldquo;very beautiful, genuine damask, which
+has never been redyed; it is strong, yet it is soft,&rdquo;
+he muttered, caressing the frayed tissue, in accordance
+with his dealer's habit of praising an article
+of so little value, that he himself thought it good
+for nothing but to give away.</p>
+
+<p>He dropped the gold pieces into a kind of medieval
+pouch which was fastened at his belt, while he
+repeated:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The foot of the Princess Hermonthis to be used
+for a paper weight!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>Then, fastening upon me his phosphorescent
+pupils he said, in a voice strident as the wails of a
+cat which has just swallowed a fish bone:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Pharaoh will not be pleased; he loved his
+daughter&mdash;that dear man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You speak of him as though you were his contemporary;
+no matter how old you may be, you
+do not date back to the pyramids of Egypt,&rdquo; I
+answered laughingly from the threshold of the
+shop.</p>
+
+<p>I returned home, delighted with my purchase.</p>
+
+<p>To make use of it at once, I placed the foot of the
+exalted Princess Hermonthis on a stack of papers&mdash;sketches
+of verses, undecipherable mosaics of
+crossed out words, unfinished articles, forgotten
+letters, posted in the desk drawer, a mistake often
+made by absent-minded people; the effect was
+pleasing, bizarre, and romantic.</p>
+
+<p>Highly delighted with this decoration, I went
+down into the street, and took a walk with all the
+importance and pride proper to a man who has the
+inexpressible advantage over the passersby he
+elbows, of possessing a fragment of the Princess
+Hermonthis, daughter of Pharaoh.</p>
+
+<p>I thought people who did not possess, like myself,
+a paper weight so genuinely Egyptian, were
+objects of ridicule, and it seemed to me the proper
+business of the sensible man to have a mummy's
+foot upon his desk.</p>
+
+<p>Happily, an encounter with several friends distracted
+me from my raptures over my recent acquisition,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+I went to dinner with them, for it would
+have been hard for me to dine alone.</p>
+
+<p>When I returned at night, with my brain somewhat
+muddled by the effects of a few glasses of
+wine, a vague whiff of oriental perfume tickled
+delicately my olfactory nerves. The heat of the
+room had warmed the natron, the bitumen, and
+the myrrh in which the <i>paraschites</i> who embalmed
+the dead had bathed the body of the Princess; it
+was a delicate, yet penetrating perfume, which four
+thousand years had not been able to dissipate.</p>
+
+<p>The Dream of Egypt was for the Eternal; its
+odors have the solidity of granite, and last as long.</p>
+
+<p>In a short time I drank full draughts from the
+black cup of sleep; for an hour or two all remained
+in obscurity; Oblivion and Nothingness submerged
+me in their somber waves.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless the haziness of my perceptions
+gradually cleared away, dreams began to brush me
+lightly in their silent flight.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of my soul opened, and I saw my room
+as it was in reality. I might have believed myself
+awake, if I had not had a vague consciousness that
+I was asleep, and that something very unusual was
+about to take place.</p>
+
+<p>The odor of myrrh had increased in intensity,
+and I had a slight headache, which I very naturally
+attributed to several glasses of champagne that
+we had drunk to unknown gods, and to our future
+success.</p>
+
+<p>I scrutinized my room with a feeling of expectation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+which there was nothing to justify. Each
+piece of furniture was in its usual place; the lamp,
+softly shaded by the milky whiteness of its ground
+crystal globe, burned upon the console, the water
+colors glowed from under the Bohemian glass;
+the curtains hung in heavy drooping folds; everything
+suggested tranquility and slumber.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, after a few moments the quiet of
+the room was disturbed, the woodwork creaked
+furtively, the ash-covered log suddenly spurted
+out a blue flame, and the surfaces of the plaques
+seemed like metallic eyes, watching, like myself, for
+what was about to happen.</p>
+
+<p>By chance my eyes fell on the table on which I
+had placed the foot of the Princess Hermonthis.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of remaining in the state of immobility
+proper to a foot which has been embalmed for four
+thousand years, it moved about in an agitated
+manner, twitching, leaping about over the papers
+like a frightened frog; one might have thought it in
+contact with a galvanic battery; I could hear distinctly
+the quick tap of the little heel, hard as the
+hoof of a gazelle.</p>
+
+<p>I became rather dissatisfied with my purchase,
+for I like paper weights of sedentary habits&mdash;besides
+I found it very unnatural for feet to move
+about without legs, and I began to feel something
+closely resembling fear.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly I noticed a movement of one of the
+folds of my curtains, and I heard a stamping like
+that made by a person hopping about on one foot.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+I must admit that I grew hot and cold by turns,
+that I felt a mysterious breeze blowing down my
+back, and that my hair stood on end so suddenly
+that it forced my night-cap to a leap of several
+degrees.</p>
+
+<p>The curtains partly opened, and I saw the
+strangest figure possible advancing.</p>
+
+<p>It was a young girl, as coffee-coloured as Amani
+the dancer, and of a perfect beauty of the purest
+Egyptian type. She had slanting almond-shaped
+eyes, with eyebrows so black that they appeared
+blue; her nose was finely chiseled, almost Grecian
+in its delicacy; she might have been taken for a
+Corinthian statue of bronze, had not her prominent
+cheekbones and rather African fullness of lips
+indicated without a doubt the hieroglyphic race
+which dwelt on the banks of the Nile.</p>
+
+<p>Her arms, thin, spindle shaped, like those of very
+young girls, were encircled with a kind of metal
+ornament, and bracelets of glass beads; her hair
+was twisted into little cords; on her breast hung a
+green paste idol, identified by her whip of seven
+lashes as Isis, guide of souls&mdash;a golden ornament
+shone on her forehead, and slight traces of rouge
+were visible on the coppery tints of her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>As for her costume, it was very odd.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine a <i>pagne</i> made of narrow strips bedizened
+with red and black hieroglyphics, weighted
+with bitumen, and apparently belonging to a
+mummy newly unswathed.</p>
+
+<p>In one of those flights of fancy usual in dreams,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
+I could hear the hoarse, rough voice of the dealer
+of bric-&agrave;-brac reciting in a monotonous refrain, the
+phrase he had kept repeating in his shop in so
+enigmatic a manner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Pharaoh will not be pleased&mdash;he loved his
+daughter very much&mdash;that dear man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>One peculiar detail, which was hardly reassuring,
+was that the apparition had but one foot, the other
+was broken off at the ankle.</p>
+
+<p>She approached the table, where the mummy's
+foot was fidgeting and tossing about with redoubled
+energy. She leaned against the edge, and I saw
+her eyes fill with pearly tears.</p>
+
+<p>Although she did not speak, I fully understood
+her feelings. She looked at the foot, for it was in
+truth her own, with an expression of coquettish
+sadness, which was extremely charming; but the
+foot kept jumping and running about as though
+it were moved by springs of steel.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three times she stretched out her hand to
+grasp it, but did not succeed.</p>
+
+<p>Then began between the Princess Hermonthis
+and her foot, which seemed to be endowed with an
+individuality of its own, a very bizarre dialogue, in
+an ancient Coptic tongue, such as might have been
+spoken thirty centuries before, among the sphinxes
+of the Land of Ser; fortunately, that night I understood
+Coptic perfectly.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess Hermonthis said in a tone of voice
+sweet and tremulous as the tones of a crystal
+bell:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>&ldquo;Well, my dear little foot, you always flee from
+me, yet I took the best of care of you; I bathed you
+with perfumed water, in a basin of alabaster; I
+rubbed your heel with pumice stone, mixed with
+oil of palm; your nails were cut with golden scissors,
+and polished with a hippopotamus' tooth; I was
+careful to select for you painted and embroidered
+<i>tatbebs</i>, with turned up toes, which were the
+envy of all the young girls of Egypt; on your great
+toe, you wore rings representing the sacred Scarab,
+and you supported one of the lightest bodies that
+could be desired by a lazy foot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The foot answered in a pouting, regretful voice:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know well that I no longer belong to myself.
+I have been bought and paid for; the old
+dealer knew what he was about. He bears you a
+grudge for having refused to marry him. This is a
+trick he has played on you. The Arab who forced
+open your royal tomb, in the subterranean pits of
+the Necropolis of Thebes, was sent there by him.
+He wanted to prevent you from attending the reunion
+of the shades, in the cities of the lower world.
+Have you five pieces of gold with which to ransom
+me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Alas, no! My jewels, my rings, my purses of
+gold and of silver have all been stolen from me,&rdquo;
+answered the Princess Hermonthis with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Princess,&rdquo; I then cried out, &ldquo;I have never kept
+possession of anyone's foot unjustly; even though
+you have not the five louis which it cost me, I will
+return it to you gladly; I should be wretched, were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
+I the cause of the lameness of so charming a person
+as the Princess Hermonthis.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I delivered this discourse in a courtly, troubadour-like
+manner, which must have astonished the
+beautiful Egyptian.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at me with an expression of deepest
+gratitude, and her eyes brightened with bluish
+lights.</p>
+
+<p>She took her foot, which this time submitted,
+and, like a woman about to put on her brodekin,
+she adjusted it to her leg with great dexterity.</p>
+
+<p>This operation finished, she took a few steps
+about the room, as though to assure herself that
+she was in reality no longer lame.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, how happy my father will be, he who was
+so wretched because of my mutilation&mdash;he who,
+from the day of my birth, set a whole nation to
+work to hollow out a tomb so deep that he might
+preserve me intact until that supreme last day,
+when souls must be weighed in the scales of Amenti!
+Come with me to my father; he will be happy to
+receive you, for you have given me back my foot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I found this proposition quite natural. I decked
+myself out in a dressing-gown of huge sprawling
+design, which gave me an extremely Pharaohesque
+appearance; I hurriedly put on a pair of Turkish
+slippers, and told the Princess Hermonthis that I
+was ready to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Before setting out, Hermonthis detached from
+her necklace the little green paste image and placed
+it on the scattered papers which strewed the table.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>&ldquo;It is no more than right,&rdquo; she said smilingly,
+&ldquo;that I should replace your paper weight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She gave me her hand, which was soft and cool
+as the skin of a serpent, and we departed.</p>
+
+<p>For a time we sped with the rapidity of an arrow,
+through a misty expanse of space, in which almost
+indistinguishable silhouettes flashed by us, on the
+right and left.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant we saw nothing but sea and sky.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes later, towering obelisks, pillars,
+the sloping outlines of the sphinx, were designed
+against the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>We had arrived.</p>
+
+<p>The princess conducted me to the side of a mountain
+of red granite in which there was an aperture
+so low and narrow that, had it not been marked by
+two monoliths covered with bizarre carvings, it
+would have been difficult to distinguish from the
+fissures in the rock.</p>
+
+<p>Hermonthis lighted a torch and led the way.</p>
+
+<p>The corridors were hewn through the living rock.
+The walls, with panels covered with hieroglyphics,
+and representations of allegorical processions, must
+have been the work of thousands of hands for
+thousands of years; the corridors, of an interminable
+length, ended in square rooms, in the middle
+of which pits had been constructed, to which we
+descended by means of <i>crampons</i> or spiral staircases.
+These pits led us into other rooms, from
+which opened out other corridors embellished in
+the same bizarre manner with sparrow-hawks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
+serpents coiled in circles, the symbolic tau, pedum,
+and baris, prodigious works which no living eye
+should ever see, interminable legends in granite
+which only the dead throughout eternity have
+time to read.</p>
+
+<p>At last we reached a hall so vast, so boundless, so
+immeasurable, that its limits could not be discerned.
+As far as the eye could see, extended files
+of gigantic columns, between which sparkled livid
+stars of yellow light. These glittering points of
+light revealed incalculable depths beyond.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess Hermonthis, still holding my hand,
+greeted graciously the mummies of her acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>My eyes gradually became accustomed to the
+shadowy twilight, and I began to distinguish the
+objects around me.</p>
+
+<p>I saw, seated upon their thrones, the kings of the
+subterranean races. They were dignified old personages,
+or dried up, shriveled, wrinkled-like parchment,
+and blackened with naphtha and bitumen.
+On their heads they wore pschents of gold, and
+their breastplates and gorgets scintillated with
+precious stones; their eyes had the fixedness of
+the sphinx, and their long beards were whitened by
+the snows of centuries. Behind them stood their
+embalmed subjects, in the rigid and constrained
+postures of Egyptian art, preserving eternally the
+attitudes prescribed by the hieratic code. Behind
+the subjects, the cats, ibixes, and crocodiles contemporary
+with them, rendered still more monstrous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
+by their wrappings, mewed, beat their wings,
+and opened and closed their huge jaws in foolish
+grimaces.</p>
+
+<p>All the Pharaohs were there&mdash;Cheops, Chephrenes,
+Psammetichus, Sesostri, Amenoteph, all the
+dark-skinned rulers of the country of the pyramids,
+and the royal sepulchers; on a still higher platform
+sat enthroned the kings Chronos, and Xixouthros,
+who were contemporary with the deluge, and Tubal-Cain,
+who preceded it.</p>
+
+<p>The beard of King Xixouthros had grown to such
+lengths that it had already wound itself seven
+times around the granite table against which he
+leaned, lost in reverie, as though in slumber.</p>
+
+<p>Further in the distance, through a dim exhalation,
+across the mists of eternities, I beheld vaguely
+the seventy-two pre-Adamite kings, with their
+seventy-two peoples, vanished forever.</p>
+
+<p>The Princess Hermonthis, after allowing me a
+few moments to enjoy this dizzying spectacle, presented
+me to Pharaoh, her father, who nodded to
+me in a most majestic manner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have found my foot&mdash;I have found my foot!&rdquo;
+cried the Princess, clapping her little hands, with
+every indication of uncontrollable joy. &ldquo;It was
+this gentleman who returned it to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The races of Kheme, the races of Nahasi, all the
+races, black, bronze, and copper-colored, repeated
+in a chorus:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Princess Hermonthis has found her foot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Xixouthros himself was deeply affected.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>He raised his heavy eyelids, stroked his moustache,
+and regarded me with his glance charged
+with the centuries.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By Oms, the dog of Hell, and by Tmei, daughter
+of the Sun and of Truth, here is a brave and
+worthy young man,&rdquo; said Pharaoh, extending
+toward me his scepter which terminated in a lotus
+flower. &ldquo;What recompense do you desire?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Eagerly, with that audacity which one has in
+dreams, where nothing seems impossible, I asked
+him for the hand of the Princess Hermonthis. Her
+hand in exchange for her foot, seemed to me an
+antithetical recompense, in sufficiently good taste.</p>
+
+<p>Pharaoh opened wide his eyes of glass, surprised
+at my pleasantry, as well as my request.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From what country are you, and what is your
+age?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am a Frenchman, and I am twenty-seven
+years old, venerable Pharaoh.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Twenty-seven years old! And he wishes to
+espouse the Princess Hermonthis, who is thirty
+centuries old!&rdquo; exclaimed in a chorus all the
+thrones, and all the circles of nations.</p>
+
+<p>Hermonthis alone did not seem to think my request
+improper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you were even two thousand years old,&rdquo;
+continued the old king, &ldquo;I would gladly bestow
+upon you the Princess; but the disproportion is too
+great; besides, our daughters must have husbands
+who will last, and you no longer know how to preserve
+yourselves. Of the last persons who were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+brought here, scarcely fifteen centuries ago, nothing
+now remains but a pinch of ashes. Look! my
+flesh is as hard as basalt, my bones are bars of
+steel. I shall be present on the last day, with the
+body and features I had in life. My daughter
+Hermonthis will last longer than a statue of bronze.
+But at that time the winds will have dissipated the
+last grains of your dust, and Isis herself, who knew
+how to recover the fragments of Osiris, would
+hardly be able to recompose your being. See how
+vigorous I still am, and how powerful is the
+strength of my arm,&rdquo; said he, shaking my hand in
+the English fashion, in a way that cut my fingers
+with my rings.</p>
+
+<p>His grasp was so strong that I awoke, and discovered
+my friend Alfred, who was pulling me by
+the arm, and shaking me, to make me get up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, see here, you maddening sleeper! Must I
+have you dragged into the middle of the street, and
+have fireworks put off close to your ear, in order
+to waken you? It is afternoon. Don't you remember
+that you promised to call for me and take
+me to see the Spanish pictures of M. Aguada?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good heavens! I forgot all about it,&rdquo; I answered,
+dressing hurriedly. &ldquo;We can go there at
+once&mdash;I have the permit here on my table.&rdquo; I
+crossed over to get it; imagine my astonishment
+when I saw, not the mummy's foot I had bought
+the evening before, but the little green paste image
+left in its place by the Princess Hermonthis!</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_RIVAL_GHOSTS" id="THE_RIVAL_GHOSTS"></a>THE RIVAL GHOSTS</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By BRANDER MATTHEWS</span></h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>Tales of Fantasy and Fact</i>, by Brander Matthews. Copyright,
+1886, by Harper Brothers. By permission of the publishers
+and Brander Matthews.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Rival Ghosts</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By BRANDER MATTHEWS</span></h4>
+
+
+<p>The good ship sped on her way across the calm
+Atlantic. It was an outward passage, according to
+the little charts which the company had charily
+distributed, but most of the passengers were homeward
+bound, after a summer of rest and recreation,
+and they were counting the days before they might
+hope to see Fire Island Light. On the lee side of
+the boat, comfortably sheltered from the wind,
+and just by the door of the captain's room (which
+was theirs during the day), sat a little group of
+returning Americans. The Duchess (she was down
+on the purser's list as Mrs. Martin, but her friends
+and familiars called her the Duchess of Washington
+Square) and Baby Van Rensselaer (she was quite
+old enough to vote, had her sex been entitled to
+that duty, but as the younger of two sisters she
+was still the baby of the family)&mdash;the Duchess and
+Baby Van Rensselaer were discussing the pleasant
+English voice and the not unpleasant English
+accent of a manly young lordling who was going to
+America for sport. Uncle Larry and Dear Jones
+were enticing each other into a bet on the ship's
+run of the morrow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll give you two to one she don't make 420,&rdquo;
+said Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll take it,&rdquo; answered Uncle Larry. &ldquo;We
+made 427 the fifth day last year.&rdquo; It was Uncle
+Larry's seventeenth visit to Europe, and this was
+therefore his thirty-fourth voyage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And when did you get in?&rdquo; asked Baby Van
+Rensselaer. &ldquo;I don't care a bit about the run, so
+long as we get in soon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We crossed the bar Sunday night, just seven days
+after we left Queenstown, and we dropped anchor
+off Quarantine at three o'clock on Monday morning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hope we sha'n't do that this time. I can't
+seem to sleep any when the boat stops.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can, but I didn't,&rdquo; continued Uncle Larry,
+&ldquo;because my stateroom was the most for'ard in
+the boat, and the donkey-engine that let down the
+anchor was right over my head.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So you got up and saw the sun rise over the
+bay,&rdquo; said Dear Jones, &ldquo;with the electric lights of
+the city twinkling in the distance, and the first
+faint flush of the dawn in the east just over Fort
+Lafayette, and the rosy tinge which spread softly
+upward, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you both come back together?&rdquo; asked the
+Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because he has crossed thirty-four times you
+must not suppose he has a monopoly in sunrises,&rdquo;
+retorted Dear Jones. &ldquo;No; this was my own sunrise;
+and a mighty pretty one it was too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'm not matching sunrises with you,&rdquo; remarked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
+Uncle Larry calmly; &ldquo;but I'm willing to
+back a merry jest called forth by my sunrise against
+any two merry jests called forth by yours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I confess reluctantly that my sunrise evoked
+no merry jest at all.&rdquo; Dear Jones was an honest
+man, and would scorn to invent a merry jest on the
+spur of the moment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's where my sunrise has the call,&rdquo; said
+Uncle Larry, complacently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was the merry jest?&rdquo; was Baby Van
+Rensselaer's inquiry, the natural result of a feminine
+curiosity thus artistically excited.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, here it is. I was standing aft, near a
+patriotic American and a wandering Irishman, and
+the patriotic American rashly declared that you
+couldn't see a sunrise like that anywhere in Europe,
+and this gave the Irishman his chance, and he said,
+'Sure ye don't have'm here till we're through with
+'em over there.'&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is true,&rdquo; said Dear Jones, thoughtfully,
+&ldquo;that they do have some things over there better
+than we do; for instance, umbrellas.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And gowns,&rdquo; added the Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And antiquities.&rdquo;&mdash;this was Uncle Larry's
+contribution.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And we do have some things so much better in
+America!&rdquo; protested Baby Van Rensselaer, as yet
+uncorrupted by any worship of the effete monarchies
+of despotic Europe. &ldquo;We make lots of
+things a great deal nicer than you can get them in
+Europe&mdash;especially ice-cream.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And pretty girls,&rdquo; added Dear Jones; but he
+did not look at her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And spooks,&rdquo; remarked Uncle Larry, casually.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Spooks?&rdquo; queried the Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Spooks. I maintain the word. Ghost, if you
+like that better, or specters. We turn out the best
+quality of spook&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You forget the lovely ghost stories about the
+Rhine and the Black Forest,&rdquo; interrupted Miss
+Van Rensselaer, with feminine inconsistency.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I remember the Rhine and the Black Forest
+and all the other haunts of elves and fairies and
+hobgoblins; but for good honest spooks there is no
+place like home. And what differentiates our
+spook&mdash;<i>spiritus Americanus</i>&mdash;from the ordinary
+ghost of literature is that it responds to the American
+sense of humor. Take Irving's stories, for
+example. The 'Headless Horseman'&mdash;that's a
+comic ghost story. And Rip Van Winkle&mdash;consider
+what humor, and what good humor, there is
+in the telling of his meeting with the goblin crew
+of Hendrik Hudson's men! A still better example
+of this American way of dealing with legend
+and mystery is the marvelous tale of the rival
+ghosts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The rival ghosts!&rdquo; queried the Duchess and
+Baby Van Rensselaer together. &ldquo;Who were they?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Didn't I ever tell you about them?&rdquo; answered
+Uncle Larry, a gleam of approaching joy flashing
+from his eye.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Since he is bound to tell us sooner or later, we'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
+better be resigned and hear it now,&rdquo; said Dear
+Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you are not more eager, I won't tell it at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, do, Uncle Larry! you know I just dote on
+ghost stories,&rdquo; pleaded Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Once upon a time,&rdquo; began Uncle Larry&mdash;&ldquo;in
+fact, a very few years ago&mdash;there lived in the thriving
+town of New York a young American called
+Duncan&mdash;Eliphalet Duncan. Like his name, he was
+half Yankee and half Scotch, and naturally he was
+a lawyer, and had come to New York to make his
+way. His father was a Scotchman who had come
+over and settled in Boston and married a Salem
+girl. When Eliphalet Duncan was about twenty
+he lost both of his parents. His father left him
+enough money to give him a start, and a strong
+feeling of pride in his Scotch birth; you see there
+was a title in the family in Scotland, and although
+Eliphalet's father was the younger son of a younger
+son, yet he always remembered, and always bade
+his only son to remember, that this ancestry was
+noble. His mother left him her full share of Yankee
+grit and a little old house in Salem which had
+belonged to her family for more than two hundred
+years. She was a Hitchcock, and the Hitchcocks
+had been settled in Salem since the year 1. It was
+a great-great-grandfather of Mr. Eliphalet Hitchcock
+who was foremost in the time of the Salem
+witchcraft craze. And this little old house which
+she left to my friend, Eliphalet Duncan, was
+haunted.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By the ghost of one of the witches, of course?&rdquo;
+interrupted Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now how could it be the ghost of a witch, since
+the witches were all burned at the stake? You
+never heard of anybody who was burned having a
+ghost, did you?&rdquo; asked Uncle Larry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's an argument in favor of cremation, at
+any rate,&rdquo; replied Dear Jones, evading the direct
+question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is, if you don't like ghosts. I do,&rdquo; said Baby
+Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so do I,&rdquo; added Uncle Larry. &ldquo;I love a
+ghost as dearly as an Englishman loves a lord.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go on with your story,&rdquo; said the Duchess,
+majestically overruling all extraneous discussion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This little old house at Salem was haunted,&rdquo;
+resumed Uncle Larry. &ldquo;And by a very distinguished
+ghost&mdash;or at least by a ghost with very
+remarkable attributes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was he like?&rdquo; asked Baby Van Rensselaer,
+with a premonitory shiver of anticipatory
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It had a lot of peculiarities. In the first place,
+it never appeared to the master of the house.
+Mostly it confined its visitations to unwelcome
+guests. In the course of the last hundred years
+it had frightened away four successive mothers-in-law,
+while never intruding on the head of the
+household.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I guess that ghost had been one of the boys
+when he was alive and in the flesh.&rdquo; This was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
+Dear Jones's contribution to the telling of the
+tale.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the second place,&rdquo; continued Uncle Larry,
+&ldquo;it never frightened anybody the first time it appeared.
+Only on the second visit were the ghost-seers
+scared; but then they were scared enough for
+twice, and they rarely mustered up courage enough
+to risk a third interview. One of the most curious
+characteristics of this well-meaning spook was that
+it had no face&mdash;or at least that nobody ever saw
+its face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps he kept his countenance veiled?&rdquo;
+queried the Duchess, who was beginning to remember
+that she never did like ghost stories.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That was what I was never able to find out.
+I have asked several people who saw the ghost,
+and none of them could tell me anything about its
+face, and yet while in its presence they never
+noticed its features, and never remarked on their
+absence or concealment. It was only afterwards
+when they tried to recall calmly all the circumstances
+of meeting with the mysterious stranger
+that they became aware that they had not seen its
+face. And they could not say whether the features
+were covered, or whether they were wanting, or
+what the trouble was. They knew only that the
+face was never seen. And no matter how often
+they might see it, they never fathomed this mystery.
+To this day nobody knows whether the
+ghost which used to haunt the little old house in
+Salem had a face, or what manner of face it had.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How awfully weird!&rdquo; said Baby Van Rensselaer.
+&ldquo;And why did the ghost go away?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I haven't said it went away,&rdquo; answered Uncle
+Larry, with much dignity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you said it <i>used</i> to haunt the little old
+house at Salem, so I supposed it had moved.
+Didn't it?&rdquo; the young lady asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall be told in due time. Eliphalet Duncan
+used to spend most of his summer vacations at
+Salem, and the ghost never bothered him at all,
+for he was the master of the house&mdash;much to his
+disgust, too, because he wanted to see for himself
+the mysterious tenant at will of his property. But
+he never saw it, never. He arranged with friends
+to call him whenever it might appear, and he slept
+in the next room with the door open; and yet when
+their frightened cries waked him the ghost was
+gone, and his only reward was to hear reproachful
+sighs as soon as he went back to bed. You see, the
+ghost thought it was not fair of Eliphalet to seek
+an introduction which was plainly unwelcome.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Dear Jones interrupted the story-teller by
+getting up and tucking a heavy rug more snugly
+around Baby Van Rensselaer's feet, for the sky
+was now overcast and gray, and the air was damp
+and penetrating.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One fine spring morning,&rdquo; pursued Uncle
+Larry, &ldquo;Eliphalet Duncan received great news.
+I told you that there was a title in the family in
+Scotland, and that Eliphalet's father was the
+younger son of a younger son. Well, it happened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+that all Eliphalet's father's brothers and uncles
+had died off without male issue except the eldest
+son of the eldest son, and he, of course, bore the
+title, and was Baron Duncan of Duncan. Now the
+great news that Eliphalet Duncan received in
+New York one fine spring morning was that Baron
+Duncan and his only son had been yachting in the
+Hebrides, and they had been caught in a black
+squall, and they were both dead. So my friend
+Eliphalet Duncan inherited the title and the
+estates.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How romantic!&rdquo; said the Duchess. &ldquo;So he
+was a baron!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; answered Uncle Larry, &ldquo;he was a baron
+if he chose. But he didn't choose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;More fool he!&rdquo; said Dear Jones, sententiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; answered Uncle Larry, &ldquo;I'm not so
+sure of that. You see, Eliphalet Duncan was half
+Scotch and half Yankee, and he had two eyes to
+the main chance. He held his tongue about his
+windfall of luck until he could find out whether the
+Scotch estates were enough to keep up the Scotch
+title. He soon discovered that they were not, and
+that the late Lord Duncan, having married money,
+kept up such state as he could out of the revenues
+of the dowry of Lady Duncan. And Eliphalet, he
+decided that he would rather be a well-fed lawyer
+in New York, living comfortably on his practice,
+than a starving lord in Scotland, living scantily
+on his title.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But he kept his title?&rdquo; asked the Duchess.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; answered Uncle Larry, &ldquo;he kept it
+quiet. I knew it, and a friend or two more. But
+Eliphalet was a sight too smart to put 'Baron
+Duncan of Duncan, Attorney and Counselor at
+Law,' on his shingle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What has all this got to do with your ghost?&rdquo;
+asked Dear Jones, pertinently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing with that ghost, but a good deal with
+another ghost. Eliphalet was very learned in spirit
+lore&mdash;perhaps because he owned the haunted house
+at Salem, perhaps because he was a Scotchman by
+descent. At all events, he had made a special study
+of the wraiths and white ladies and banshees and
+bogies of all kinds whose sayings and doings and
+warnings are recorded in the annals of the Scottish
+nobility. In fact, he was acquainted with the
+habits of every reputable spook in the Scotch
+peerage. And he knew that there was a Duncan
+ghost attached to the person of the holder of the
+title of Baron Duncan of Duncan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So, besides being the owner of a haunted house
+in Salem, he was also a haunted man in Scotland?&rdquo;
+asked Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so. But the Scotch ghost was not unpleasant,
+like the Salem ghost, although it had one
+peculiarity in common with its transatlantic fellow-spook.
+It never appeared to the holder of the title,
+just as the other never was visible to the owner of
+the house. In fact, the Duncan ghost was never
+seen at all. It was a guardian angel only. Its sole
+duty was to be in personal attendance on Baron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
+Duncan of Duncan, and to warn him of impending
+evil. The traditions of the house told that the
+Barons of Duncan had again and again felt a premonition
+of ill fortune. Some of them had yielded
+and withdrawn from the venture they had undertaken,
+and it had failed dismally. Some had been
+obstinate, and had hardened their hearts, and had
+gone on reckless to defeat and to death. In no
+case had a Lord Duncan been exposed to peril
+without fair warning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then how came it that the father and son were
+lost in the yacht off the Hebrides?&rdquo; asked Dear
+Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because they were too enlightened to yield to
+superstition. There is extant now a letter of Lord
+Duncan, written to his wife a few minutes before
+he and his son set sail, in which he tells her how
+hard he has had to struggle with an almost overmastering
+desire to give up the trip. Had he
+obeyed the friendly warning of the family ghost,
+the letter would have been spared a journey across
+the Atlantic.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did the ghost leave Scotland for America as
+soon as the old baron died?&rdquo; asked Baby Van
+Rensselaer, with much interest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did he come over,&rdquo; queried Dear Jones&mdash;&ldquo;in
+the steerage, or as a cabin passenger?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; answered Uncle Larry, calmly,
+&ldquo;and Eliphalet didn't know. For as he was in no
+danger, and stood in no need of warning, he couldn't
+tell whether the ghost was on duty or not. Of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+course he was on the watch for it all the time.
+But he never got any proof of its presence until he
+went down to the little old house of Salem, just
+before the Fourth of July. He took a friend down
+with him&mdash;a young fellow who had been in the
+regular army since the day Fort Sumter was fired
+on, and who thought that after four years of the
+little unpleasantness down South, including six
+months in Libby, and after ten years of fighting
+the bad Indians on the plains, he wasn't likely to
+be much frightened by a ghost. Well, Eliphalet
+and the officer sat out on the porch all the evening
+smoking and talking over points in military law.
+A little after twelve o'clock, just as they began to
+think it was about time to turn in, they heard the
+most ghastly noise in the house. It wasn't a shriek,
+or a howl, or a yell, or anything they could put a
+name to. It was an undeterminate, inexplicable
+shiver and shudder of sound, which went wailing
+out of the window. The officer had been at Cold
+Harbor, but he felt himself getting colder this time.
+Eliphalet knew it was the ghost who haunted the
+house. As this weird sound died away, it was followed
+by another, sharp, short, blood-curdling in
+its intensity. Something in this cry seemed familiar
+to Eliphalet, and he felt sure that it proceeded
+from the family ghost, the warning wraith
+of the Duncans.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do I understand you to intimate that both
+ghosts were there together?&rdquo; inquired the Duchess,
+anxiously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Both of them were there,&rdquo; answered Uncle
+Larry. &ldquo;You see, one of them belonged to the
+house, and had to be there all the time, and the
+other was attached to the person of Baron Duncan,
+and had to follow him there; wherever he was,
+there was that ghost also. But Eliphalet, he had
+scarcely time to think this out when he heard both
+sounds again, not one after another, but both
+together, and something told him&mdash;some sort of an
+instinct he had&mdash;that those two ghosts didn't
+agree, didn't get on together, didn't exactly hit it
+off; in fact, that they were quarreling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quarreling ghosts! Well, I never!&rdquo; was Baby
+Van Rensselaer's remark.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is a blessed thing to see ghosts dwell together
+in unity,&rdquo; said Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>And the Duchess added, &ldquo;It would certainly be
+setting a better example.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know,&rdquo; resumed Uncle Larry, &ldquo;that two
+waves of light or of sound may interfere and produce
+darkness or silence. So it was with these rival
+spooks. They interfered, but they did not produce
+silence or darkness. On the contrary, as soon as
+Eliphalet and the officer went into the house, there
+began at once a series of spiritualistic manifestations&mdash;a
+regular dark s&eacute;ance. A tambourine was
+played upon, a bell was rung, and a flaming banjo
+went singing around the room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did they get the banjo?&rdquo; asked Dear
+Jones, sceptically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't know. Materialized it, maybe, just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+as they did the tambourine. You don't suppose a
+quiet New York lawyer kept a stock of musical
+instruments large enough to fit out a strolling
+minstrel troupe just on the chance of a pair of
+ghosts coming to give him a surprise party, do you?
+Every spook has its own instrument of torture.
+Angels play on harps, I'm informed, and spirits
+delight in banjos and tambourines. These spooks
+of Eliphalet Duncan's were ghosts with all modern
+improvements, and I guess they were capable of
+providing their own musical weapons. At all
+events, they had them there in the little old house
+at Salem the night Eliphalet and his friend came
+down. And they played on them, and they rang
+the bell, and they rapped here, there, and everywhere.
+And they kept it up all night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All night?&rdquo; asked the awe-stricken Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All night long,&rdquo; said Uncle Larry, solemnly;
+&ldquo;and the next night too. Eliphalet did not get a
+wink of sleep, neither did his friend. On the second
+night the house ghost was seen by the officer; on
+the third night it showed itself again; and the next
+morning the officer packed his gripsack and took
+the first train to Boston. He was a New Yorker,
+but he said he'd sooner go to Boston than see that
+ghost again. Eliphalet wasn't scared at all, partly
+because he never saw either the domiciliary or the
+titular spook, and partly because he felt himself on
+friendly terms with the spirit world, and didn't
+scare easily. But after losing three nights' sleep
+and the society of his friend, he began to be a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+impatient, and to think that the thing had gone
+far enough. You see, while in a way he was fond
+of ghosts, yet he liked them best one at a time.
+Two ghosts were one too many. He wasn't bent
+on making a collection of spooks. He and one ghost
+were company, but he and two ghosts were a crowd.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did he do?&rdquo; asked Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well he couldn't do anything. He waited
+awhile, hoping they would get tired; but he got
+tired out first. You see, it comes natural to a
+spook to sleep in the daytime, but a man wants to
+sleep nights, and they wouldn't let him sleep nights.
+They kept on wrangling and quarreling incessantly;
+they manifested and they dark-s&eacute;anced as
+regularly as the old clock on the stairs struck
+twelve; they rapped and they rang bells and they
+banged the tambourine and they threw the flaming
+banjo about the house, and, worse than all, they
+swore.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did not know that spirits were addicted to
+bad language,&rdquo; said the Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did he know they were swearing? Could
+he hear them?&rdquo; asked Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That was just it,&rdquo; responded Uncle Larry;
+&ldquo;he could not hear them&mdash;at least, not distinctly.
+There were inarticulate murmurs and stifled
+rumblings. But the impression produced on him
+was that they were swearing. If they had only
+sworn right out, he would not have minded it so
+much, because he would have known the worst.
+But the feeling that the air was full of suppressed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+profanity was very wearing, and after standing it
+for a week he gave up in disgust and went to the
+White Mountains.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Leaving them to fight it out, I suppose,&rdquo; interjected
+Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not at all,&rdquo; explained Uncle Larry. &ldquo;They
+could not quarrel unless he was present. You see,
+he could not leave the titular ghost behind him,
+and the domiciliary ghost could not leave the
+house. When he went away he took the family
+ghost with him, leaving the house ghost behind.
+Now spooks can't quarrel when they are a hundred
+miles apart any more than men can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what happened afterwards?&rdquo; asked Baby
+Van Rensselaer, with a pretty impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A most marvelous thing happened. Eliphalet
+Duncan went to the White Mountains, and in the
+car of the railroad that runs to the top of Mount
+Washington he met a classmate whom he had not
+seen for years, and this classmate introduced Duncan
+to his sister, and this sister was a remarkably
+pretty girl, and Duncan fell in love with her at first
+sight, and by the time he got to the top of Mount
+Washington he was so deep in love that he began
+to consider his own unworthiness, and to wonder
+whether she might ever be induced to care for him
+a little&mdash;ever so little.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't think that is so marvelous a thing,&rdquo;
+said Dear Jones, glancing at Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who was she?&rdquo; asked the Duchess, who had
+once lived in Philadelphia.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was Miss Kitty Sutton, of San Francisco,
+and she was a daughter of old Judge Sutton, of the
+firm of Pixley &amp; Sutton.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A very respectable family,&rdquo; assented the
+Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hope she wasn't a daughter of that loud and
+vulgar old Mrs. Sutton whom I met at Saratoga one
+summer four or five years ago?&rdquo; said Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Probably she was,&rdquo; Uncle Larry responded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was a horrid old woman. The boys used to
+call her Mother Gorgon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The pretty Kitty Sutton with whom Eliphalet
+Duncan had fallen in love was the daughter of
+Mother Gorgon. But he never saw the mother,
+who was in Frisco, or Los Angeles, or Santa F&eacute;, or
+somewhere out West, and he saw a great deal of
+the daughter, who was up in the White Mountains.
+She was traveling with her brother and his wife,
+and as they journeyed from hotel to hotel Duncan
+went with them, and filled out the quartette. Before
+the end of the summer he began to think about
+proposing. Of course he had lots of chances, going
+on excursions as they were every day. He made up
+his mind to seize the first opportunity, and that
+very evening he took her out for a moonlight row
+on Lake Winipiseogee. As he handed her into the
+boat he resolved to do it, and he had a glimmer of
+suspicion that she knew he was going to do it, too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Girls,&rdquo; said Dear Jones, &ldquo;never go out in a
+rowboat at night with a young man unless you
+mean to accept him.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sometimes it's best to refuse him, and get it
+over once for all,&rdquo; said Baby Van Rensselaer,
+impersonally.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As Eliphalet took the oars he felt a sudden
+chill. He tried to shake it off, but in vain. He
+began to have a growing consciousness of impending
+evil. Before he had taken ten strokes&mdash;and
+he was a swift oarsman&mdash;he was aware of a mysterious
+presence between him and Miss Sutton.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Was it the guardian-angel ghost warning him
+off the match?&rdquo; interrupted Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's just what it was,&rdquo; said Uncle Larry.
+&ldquo;And he yielded to it, and kept his peace, and
+rowed Miss Sutton back to the hotel with his proposal
+unspoken.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;More fool he,&rdquo; said Dear Jones. &ldquo;It will take
+more than one ghost to keep me from proposing
+when my mind is made up.&rdquo; And he looked at
+Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The next morning,&rdquo; continued Uncle Larry,
+&ldquo;Eliphalet overslept himself, and when he went
+down to a late breakfast he found that the Suttons
+had gone to New York by the morning train. He
+wanted to follow them at once, and again he felt
+the mysterious presence overpowering his will.
+He struggled two days, and at last he roused himself
+to do what he wanted in spite of the spook.
+When he arrived in New York it was late in the
+evening. He dressed himself hastily, and went to
+the hotel where the Suttons were, in the hope of
+seeing at least her brother. The guardian angel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
+fought every inch of the walk with him, until he
+began to wonder whether, if Miss Sutton were to
+take him, the spook would forbid the banns. At
+the hotel he saw no one that night, and he went
+home determined to call as early as he could the
+next afternoon, and make an end of it. When he
+left his office about two o'clock the next day to
+learn his fate, he had not walked five blocks before
+he discovered that the wraith of the Duncans had
+withdrawn his opposition to the suit. There was
+no feeling of impending evil, no resistance, no
+struggle, no consciousness of an opposing presence.
+Eliphalet was greatly encouraged. He walked
+briskly to the hotel; he found Miss Sutton alone.
+He asked her the question, and got his answer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She accepted him, of course?&rdquo; said Baby Van
+Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course,&rdquo; said Uncle Larry. &ldquo;And while
+they were in the first flush of joy, swapping confidences
+and confessions, her brother came into the
+parlor with an expression of pain on his face and a
+telegram in his hand. The former was caused by
+the latter, which was from Frisco, and which announced
+the sudden death of Mrs. Sutton, their
+mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that was why the ghost no longer opposed
+the match?&rdquo; questioned Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly. You see, the family ghost knew that
+Mother Gorgon was an awful obstacle to Duncan's
+happiness, so it warned him. But the moment the
+obstacle was removed, it gave its consent at once.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The fog was lowering its thick, damp curtain,
+and it was beginning to be difficult to see from one
+end of the boat to the other. Dear Jones tightened
+the rug which enwrapped Baby Van Rensselaer,
+and then withdrew again into his own substantial
+coverings.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Larry paused in his story long enough to
+light another of the tiny cigars he always smoked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I infer that Lord Duncan&rdquo;&mdash;the Duchess was
+scrupulous in the bestowal of titles&mdash;&ldquo;saw no more
+of the ghosts after he was married.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He never saw them at all, at any time, either before
+or since. But they came very near breaking off
+the match, and thus breaking two young hearts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don't mean to say that they knew any
+just cause or impediment why they should not
+forever after hold their peace?&rdquo; asked Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How could a ghost, or even two ghosts, keep a
+girl from marrying the man she loved?&rdquo; This was
+Baby Van Rensselaer's question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It seems curious, doesn't it?&rdquo; and Uncle Larry
+tried to warm himself by two or three sharp pulls
+at his fiery little cigar. &ldquo;And the circumstances
+are quite as curious as the fact itself. You see,
+Miss Sutton wouldn't be married for a year after
+her mother's death, so she and Duncan had lots of
+time to tell each other all they knew. Eliphalet got
+to know a good deal about the girls she went to
+school with; and Kitty soon learned all about his
+family. He didn't tell her about the title for a long
+time, as he wasn't one to brag. But he described<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+to her the little old house at Salem. And one evening
+towards the end of the summer, the wedding-day
+having been appointed for early in September,
+she told him that she didn't want a bridal tour at
+all; she just wanted to go down to the little old
+house at Salem to spend her honeymoon in peace
+and quiet, with nothing to do and nobody to
+bother them. Well, Eliphalet jumped at the suggestion:
+it suited him down to the ground. All of a
+sudden he remembered the spooks, and it knocked
+him all of a heap. He had told her about the Duncan
+banshee, and the idea of having an ancestral
+ghost in personal attendance on her husband
+tickled her immensely. But he had never said
+anything about the ghost which haunted the little
+old house at Salem. He knew she would be frightened
+out of her wits if the house ghost revealed
+itself to her, and he saw at once that it would be
+impossible to go to Salem on their wedding trip.
+So he told her all about it, and how whenever he
+went to Salem the two ghosts interfered, and gave
+dark s&eacute;ances and manifested and materialized and
+made the place absolutely impossible. Kitty listened
+in silence, and Eliphalet thought she had
+changed her mind. But she hadn't done anything
+of the kind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just like a man&mdash;to think she was going to,&rdquo;
+remarked Baby Van Rensselaer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She just told him she could not bear ghosts
+herself, but she would not marry a man who was
+afraid of them.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just like a girl&mdash;to be so inconsistent,&rdquo; remarked
+Dear Jones.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Larry's tiny cigar had long been extinct.
+He lighted a new one, and continued: &ldquo;Eliphalet
+protested in vain. Kitty said her mind was made
+up. She was determined to pass her honeymoon
+in the little old house at Salem, and she was equally
+determined not to go there as long as there were
+any ghosts there. Until he could assure her that
+the spectral tenant had received notice to quit, and
+that there was no danger of manifestations and
+materializing, she refused to be married at all.
+She did not intend to have her honeymoon interrupted
+by two wrangling ghosts, and the wedding
+could be postponed until he had made ready
+the house for her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She was an unreasonable young woman,&rdquo; said
+the Duchess.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that's what Eliphalet thought, much as
+he was in love with her. And he believed he could
+talk her out of her determination. But he couldn't.
+She was set. And when a girl is set, there's nothing
+to do but to yield to the inevitable. And that's
+just what Eliphalet did. He saw he would either
+have to give her up or to get the ghosts out; and as
+he loved her and did not care for the ghosts, he
+resolved to tackle the ghosts. He had clear grit,
+Eliphalet had&mdash;he was half Scotch and half Yankee
+and neither breed turns tail in a hurry. So he made
+his plans and he went down to Salem. As he said
+good-by to Kitty he had an impression that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+was sorry she had made him go; but she kept up
+bravely, and put a bold face on it, and saw him off,
+and went home and cried for an hour, and was
+perfectly miserable until he came back the next
+day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he succeed in driving the ghosts away?&rdquo;
+asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with great interest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's just what I'm coming to,&rdquo; said Uncle
+Larry, pausing at the critical moment, in the
+manner of the trained story-teller. &ldquo;You see,
+Eliphalet had got a rather tough job, and he would
+gladly have had an extension of time on the contract,
+but he had to choose between the girl and
+the ghosts, and he wanted the girl. He tried to
+invent or remember some short and easy way with
+ghosts, but he couldn't. He wished that somebody
+had invented a specific for spooks&mdash;something that
+would make the ghosts come out of the house and
+die in the yard. He wondered if he could not tempt
+the ghosts to run in debt, so that he might get the
+sheriff to help him. He wondered also whether
+the ghosts could not be overcome with strong
+drink&mdash;a dissipated spook, a spook with delirium
+tremens, might be committed to the inebriate
+asylum. But none of these things seemed feasible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did he do?&rdquo; interrupted Dear Jones.
+&ldquo;The learned counsel will please speak to the
+point.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will regret this unseemly haste,&rdquo; said
+Uncle Larry, gravely, &ldquo;when you know what
+really happened.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was it, Uncle Larry?&rdquo; asked Baby Van
+Rensselaer. &ldquo;I'm all impatience.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And Uncle Larry proceeded:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eliphalet went down to the little old house at
+Salem, and as soon as the clock struck twelve the
+rival ghosts began wrangling as before. Raps here,
+there, and everywhere, ringing bells, banging tambourines,
+strumming banjos sailing about the room,
+and all the other manifestations and materializations
+followed one another just as they had the
+summer before. The only difference Eliphalet
+could detect was a stronger flavor in the spectral
+profanity; and this, of course, was only a vague
+impression, for he did not actually hear a single
+word. He waited awhile in patience, listening and
+watching. Of course he never saw either of the
+ghosts, because neither of them could appear to
+him. At last he got his dander up, and he thought
+it was about time to interfere, so he rapped on the
+table, and asked for silence. As soon as he felt
+that the spooks were listening to him he explained
+the situation to them. He told them he was in
+love, and that he could not marry unless they
+vacated the house. He appealed to them as old
+friends, and he laid claim to their gratitude. The
+titular ghost had been sheltered by the Duncan
+family for hundreds of years, and the domiciliary
+ghost had had free lodging in the little old house at
+Salem for nearly two centuries. He implored them
+to settle their differences, and to get him out of his
+difficulty at once. He suggested that they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+better fight it out then and there, and see who was
+master. He had brought down with him all needful
+weapons. And he pulled out his valise, and
+spread on the table a pair of navy revolvers, a pair
+of shotguns, a pair of dueling-swords, and a couple
+of bowie knives. He offered to serve as second for
+both parties, and to give the word when to begin.
+He also took out of his valise a pack of cards and a
+bottle of poison, telling them that if they wished to
+avoid carnage they might cut the cards to see which
+one should take the poison. Then he waited anxiously
+for their reply. For a little space there was
+silence. Then he became conscious of a tremulous
+shivering in one corner of the room, and he remembered
+that he had heard from that direction
+what sounded like a frightened sigh when he made
+the first suggestion of the duel. Something told
+him that this was the domiciliary ghost, and that
+it was badly scared. Then he was impressed by a
+certain movement in the opposite corner of the
+room, as though the titular ghost were drawing
+himself up with offended dignity. Eliphalet
+couldn't exactly see those things, because he never
+saw the ghosts, but he felt them. After a silence
+of nearly a minute a voice came from the corner
+where the family ghost stood&mdash;a voice strong and
+full, but trembling slightly with suppressed passion.
+And this voice told Eliphalet it was plain enough
+that he had not long been the head of the Duncans,
+and that he had never properly considered the
+characteristics of his race if now he supposed that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+one of his blood could draw his sword against a
+woman. Eliphalet said he had never suggested
+that the Duncan ghost should raise his hand
+against a woman, and all he wanted was that the
+Duncan ghost should fight the other ghost. And
+then the voice told Eliphalet that the other ghost
+was a woman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What?&rdquo; said Dear Jones, sitting up suddenly.
+&ldquo;You don't mean to tell me that the ghost which
+haunted the house was a woman?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Those were the very words Eliphalet Duncan
+used,&rdquo; said Uncle Larry; &ldquo;but he did not need to
+wait for the answer. All at once he recalled the
+traditions about the domiciliary ghost, and he
+knew that what the titular ghost said was the fact.
+He had never thought of the sex of a spook, but
+there was no doubt whatever that the house ghost
+was a woman. No sooner was this firmly fixed in
+Eliphalet's mind than he saw his way out of the
+difficulty. The ghosts must be married!&mdash;for then
+there would be no more interference, no more quarreling,
+no more manifestations and materializations,
+no more dark s&eacute;ances, with their raps and
+bells and tambourines and banjos. At first the
+ghosts would not hear of it. The voice in the
+corner declared that the Duncan wraith had never
+thought of matrimony. But Eliphalet argued with
+them, and pleaded and pursuaded and coaxed,
+and dwelt on the advantages of matrimony. He
+had to confess, of course, that he did not know how
+to get a clergyman to marry them; but the voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+from the corner gravely told him that there need
+be no difficulty in regard to that, as there was no
+lack of spiritual chaplains. Then, for the first
+time, the house ghost spoke, a low, clear, gentle
+voice, and with a quaint, old-fashioned New England
+accent, which contrasted sharply with the
+broad Scotch speech of the family ghost. She said
+that Eliphalet Duncan seemed to have forgotten
+that she was married. But this did not upset Eliphalet
+at all; he remembered the whole case clearly,
+and he told her she was not a married ghost, but a
+widow, since her husband had been hanged for
+murdering her. Then the Duncan ghost drew
+attention to the great disparity in their ages, saying
+that he was nearly four hundred and fifty
+years old, while she was barely two hundred. But
+Eliphalet had not talked to juries for nothing; he
+just buckled to, and coaxed those ghosts into matrimony.
+Afterwards he came to the conclusion that
+they were willing to be coaxed, but at the time he
+thought he had pretty hard work to convince them
+of the advantages of the plan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he succeed?&rdquo; asked Baby Van Rensselaer,
+with a woman's interest in matrimony.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He did,&rdquo; said Uncle Larry. &ldquo;He talked the
+wraith of the Duncans and the specter of the little
+old house at Salem into a matrimonial engagement.
+And from the time they were engaged he had no
+more trouble with them. They were rival ghosts
+no longer. They were married by their spiritual
+chaplain the very same day that Eliphalet Duncan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+met Kitty Sutton in front of the railing of Grace
+Church. The ghostly bride and bridegroom went
+away at once on their bridal tour, and Lord and
+Lady Duncan went down to the little old house at
+Salem to pass their honeymoon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Larry stopped. His tiny cigar was out
+again. The tale of the rival ghosts was told. A
+solemn silence fell on the little party on the deck of
+the ocean steamer, broken harshly by the hoarse
+roar of the fog-horn.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_WATER_GHOST_OF_HARROWBY_HALL" id="THE_WATER_GHOST_OF_HARROWBY_HALL"></a>THE WATER GHOST OF HARROWBY HALL</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN KENDRICK BANGS</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>The Water Ghost, and other Stories</i>, by John Kendrick Bangs.
+Copyright, 1904, by Harper Brothers. By permission of the
+publishers and John Kendrick Bangs.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>The Water Ghost of<br />
+Harrowby Hall</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN KENDRICK BANGS</h4>
+
+
+<p>The trouble with Harrowby Hall was that it was
+haunted, and, what was worse, the ghost did not
+content itself with merely appearing at the bedside
+of the afflicted person who saw it, but persisted in
+remaining there for one mortal hour before it would
+disappear.</p>
+
+<p>It never appeared except on Christmas Eve, and
+then as the clock was striking twelve, in which
+respect alone was it lacking in that originality
+which in these days is a <i>sine qua non</i> of success in
+spectral life. The owners of Harrowby Hall had
+done their utmost to rid themselves of the damp
+and dewy lady who rose up out of the best bedroom
+floor at midnight, but without avail. They had
+tried stopping the clock, so that the ghost would
+not know when it was midnight; but she made her
+appearance just the same, with that fearful miasmatic
+personality of hers, and there she would
+stand until everything about her was thoroughly
+saturated.</p>
+
+<p>Then the owners of Harrowby Hall caulked up
+every crack in the floor with the very best quality<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
+of hemp, and over this were placed layers of tar
+and canvas; the walls were made waterproof, and
+the doors and windows likewise, the proprietors
+having conceived the notion that the unexorcised
+lady would find it difficult to leak into the room
+after these precautions had been taken; but even
+this did not suffice. The following Christmas Eve
+she appeared as promptly as before, and frightened
+the occupant of the room quite out of his senses by
+sitting down alongside of him and gazing with her
+cavernous blue eyes into his; and he noticed, too,
+that in her long, aqueously bony fingers bits of
+dripping seaweed were entwined, the ends hanging
+down, and these ends she drew across his forehead
+until he became like one insane. And then he
+swooned away, and was found unconscious in his
+bed the next morning by his host, simply saturated
+with sea-water and fright, from the combined effects
+of which he never recovered, dying four
+years later of pneumonia and nervous prostration
+at the age of seventy-eight.</p>
+
+<p>The next year the master of Harrowby Hall decided
+not to have the best spare bedroom opened
+at all, thinking that perhaps the ghost's thirst for
+making herself disagreeable would be satisfied by
+haunting the furniture, but the plan was as unavailing
+as the many that had preceded it.</p>
+
+<p>The ghost appeared as usual in the room&mdash;that
+is, it was supposed she did, for the hangings were
+dripping wet the next morning, and in the parlor
+below the haunted room a great damp spot appeared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
+on the ceiling. Finding no one there, she
+immediately set out to learn the reason why, and
+she chose none other to haunt than the owner of
+the Harrowby himself. She found him in his own
+cosey room drinking whiskey&mdash;whiskey undiluted&mdash;and
+felicitating himself upon having foiled her
+ghost-ship, when all of a sudden the curl went out
+of his hair, his whiskey bottle filled and overflowed,
+and he was himself in a condition similar to that of
+a man who has fallen into a water-butt. When he
+recovered from the shock, which was a painful one,
+he saw before him the lady of the cavernous eyes
+and seaweed fingers. The sight was so unexpected
+and so terrifying that he fainted, but immediately
+came to, because of the vast amount of water in his
+hair, which, trickling down over his face, restored
+his consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>Now it so happened that the master of Harrowby
+was a brave man, and while he was not particularly
+fond of interviewing ghosts, especially such quenching
+ghosts as the one before him, he was not to be
+daunted by an apparition. He had paid the lady
+the compliment of fainting from the effects of his
+first surprise, and now that he had come to he
+intended to find out a few things he felt he had a
+right to know. He would have liked to put on a
+dry suit of clothes first, but the apparition declined
+to leave him for an instant until her hour was up,
+and he was forced to deny himself that pleasure.
+Every time he would move she would follow him,
+with the result that everything she came in contact<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+with got a ducking. In an effort to warm himself
+up he approached the fire, an unfortunate move
+as it turned out, because it brought the ghost
+directly over the fire, which immediately was extinguished.
+The whiskey became utterly valueless
+as a comforter to his chilled system, because it was
+by this time diluted to a proportion of ninety per
+cent of water. The only thing he could do to ward
+off the evil effects of his encounter he did, and that
+was to swallow ten two-grain quinine pills, which
+he managed to put into his mouth before the ghost
+had time to interfere. Having done this, he turned
+with some asperity to the ghost, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Far be it from me to be impolite to a woman,
+madam, but I'm hanged if it wouldn't please me
+better if you'd stop these infernal visits of yours
+to this house. Go sit out on the lake, if you like
+that sort of thing; soak the water-butt, if you wish;
+but do not, I implore you, come into a gentleman's
+house and saturate him and his possessions in this
+way. It is damned disagreeable.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Henry Hartwick Oglethorpe,&rdquo; said the ghost,
+in a gurgling voice, &ldquo;you don't know what you are
+talking about.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; returned the unhappy householder,
+&ldquo;I wish that remark were strictly truthful. I
+was talking about you. It would be shillings and
+pence&mdash;nay, pounds, in my pocket, madam, if I
+did not know you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is a bit of specious nonsense,&rdquo; returned
+the ghost, throwing a quart of indignation into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+face of the master of Harrowby. &ldquo;It may rank
+high as repartee, but as a comment upon my statement
+that you do not know what you are talking
+about, it savors of irrelevant impertinence. You
+do not know that I am compelled to haunt this
+place year after year by inexorable fate. It is no
+pleasure to me to enter this house, and ruin and
+mildew everything I touch. I never aspired to be a
+shower-bath, but it is my doom. Do you know
+who I am?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I don't,&rdquo; returned the master of Harrowby.
+&ldquo;I should say you were the Lady of the
+Lake, or Little Sallie Waters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are a witty man for your years,&rdquo; said the
+ghost.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, my humor is drier than yours ever will
+be,&rdquo; returned the master.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No doubt. I'm never dry. I am the Water
+Ghost of Harrowby Hall, and dryness is a quality
+entirely beyond my wildest hope. I have been the
+incumbent of this highly unpleasant office for two
+hundred years to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How the deuce did you ever come to get
+elected?&rdquo; asked the master.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Through a suicide,&rdquo; replied the specter. &ldquo;I
+am the ghost of that fair maiden whose picture
+hangs over the mantelpiece in the drawing-room.
+I should have been your great-great-great-great-great-aunt
+if I had lived, Henry Hartwick Oglethorpe,
+for I was the own sister of your great-great-great-great-grandfather.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what induced you to get this house into
+such a predicament?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was not to blame, sir,&rdquo; returned the lady.
+&ldquo;It was my father's fault. He it was who built
+Harrowby Hall, and the haunted chamber was to
+have been mine. My father had it furnished in
+pink and yellow, knowing well that blue and gray
+formed the only combination of color I could tolerate.
+He did it merely to spite me, and, with
+what I deem a proper spirit, I declined to live in the
+room; whereupon my father said I could live there
+or on the lawn, he didn't care which. That night
+I ran from the house and jumped over the cliff into
+the sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That was rash,&rdquo; said the master of Harrowby.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So I've heard,&rdquo; returned the ghost. &ldquo;If I had
+known what the consequences were to be I should
+not have jumped; but I really never realized what
+I was doing until after I was drowned. I had been
+drowned a week when a sea-nymph came to me
+and informed me that I was to be one of her followers
+forever afterwards, adding that it should be
+my doom to haunt Harrowby Hall for one hour
+every Christmas Eve throughout the rest of eternity.
+I was to haunt that room on such Christmas
+Eves as I found it inhabited; and if it should turn
+out not to be inhabited, I was and am to spend the
+allotted hour with the head of the house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll sell the place.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That you cannot do, for it is also required of
+me that I shall appear as the deeds are to be delivered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+to any purchaser, and divulge to him the
+awful secret of the house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you mean to tell me that on every Christmas
+Eve that I don't happen to have somebody in
+that guest-chamber, you are going to haunt me
+wherever I may be, ruining my whiskey, taking all
+the curl out of my hair, extinguishing my fire, and
+soaking me through to the skin?&rdquo; demanded the
+master.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have stated the case, Oglethorpe. And
+what is more,&rdquo; said the water ghost, &ldquo;it doesn't
+make the slightest difference where you are, if I
+find that room empty, wherever you may be I shall
+douse you with my spectral pres&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here the clock struck one, and immediately the
+apparition faded away. It was perhaps more of a
+trickle than a fade, but as a disappearance it was
+complete.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By St. George and his Dragon!&rdquo; ejaculated the
+master of Harrowby, wringing his hands. &ldquo;It is
+guineas to hot-cross buns that next Christmas
+there's an occupant of the spare room, or I spend
+the night in a bathtub.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the master of Harrowby would have lost
+his wager had there been anyone there to take him
+up, for when Christmas Eve came again he was in
+his grave, never having recovered from the cold
+contracted that awful night. Harrowby Hall was
+closed, and the heir to the estate was in London,
+where to him in his chambers came the same experience
+that his father had gone through, saving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+only that, being younger and stronger, he survived
+the shock. Everything in his rooms was ruined&mdash;his
+clocks were rusted in the works; a fine collection
+of water-color drawings was entirely obliterated
+by the onslaught of the water ghost; and what was
+worse, the apartments below his were drenched
+with the water soaking through the floors, a
+damage for which he was compelled to pay, and
+which resulted in his being requested by his landlady
+to vacate the premises immediately.</p>
+
+<p>The story of the visitation inflicted upon his
+family had gone abroad, and no one could be got
+to invite him out to any function save afternoon
+teas and receptions. Fathers of daughters declined
+to permit him to remain in their houses later
+than eight o'clock at night, not knowing but that
+some emergency might arise in the supernatural
+world which would require the unexpected appearance
+of the water ghost in this on nights other than
+Christmas Eve, and before the mystic hour when
+weary churchyards, ignoring the rules which are
+supposed to govern polite society, begin to yawn.
+Nor would the maids themselves have aught to do
+with him, fearing the destruction by the sudden
+incursion of aqueous femininity of the costumes
+which they held most dear.</p>
+
+<p>So the heir of Harrowby Hall resolved, as his
+ancestors for several generations before him had
+resolved, that something must be done. His first
+thought was to make one of his servants occupy
+the haunted room at the crucial moment; but in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
+this he failed, because the servants themselves
+knew the history of that room and rebelled. None
+of his friends would consent to sacrifice their personal
+comfort to his, nor was there to be found in
+all England a man so poor as to be willing to occupy
+the doomed chamber on Christmas Eve for pay.</p>
+
+<p>Then the thought came to the heir to have the
+fireplace in the room enlarged, so that he might
+evaporate the ghost at its first appearance, and he
+was felicitating himself upon the ingenuity of his
+plan, when he remembered what his father had
+told him&mdash;how that no fire could withstand the
+lady's extremely contagious dampness. And then
+he bethought him of steam-pipes. These, he remembered,
+could lie hundreds of feet deep in water,
+and still retain sufficient heat to drive the water
+away in vapor; and as a result of this thought the
+haunted room was heated by steam to a withering
+degree, and the heir for six months attended daily
+the Turkish baths, so that when Christmas Eve
+came he could himself withstand the awful temperature
+of the room.</p>
+
+<p>The scheme was only partially successful. The
+water ghost appeared at the specified time, and
+found the heir of Harrowby prepared; but hot as
+the room was, it shortened her visit by no more
+than five minutes in the hour, during which time
+the nervous system of the young master was well-nigh
+shattered, and the room itself was cracked
+and warped to an extent which required the outlay
+of a large sum of money to remedy. And worse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
+than this, as the last drop of the water ghost was
+slowly sizzling itself out on the floor, she whispered
+to her would-be conqueror that his scheme would
+avail him nothing, because there was still water in
+great plenty where she came from, and that next
+year would find her rehabilitated and as exasperatingly
+saturating as ever.</p>
+
+<p>It was then that the natural action of the mind,
+in going from one extreme to the other, suggested
+to the ingenious heir of Harrowby the means by
+which the water ghost was ultimately conquered,
+and happiness once more came within the grasp
+of the house of Oglethorpe.</p>
+
+<p>The heir provided himself with a warm suit of
+fur under-clothing. Donning this with the furry
+side in, he placed over it a rubber garment, tight-fitting,
+which he wore just as a woman wears a
+jersey. On top of this he placed another set of
+under-clothing, this suit made of wool, and over
+this was a second rubber garment like the first.
+Upon his head he placed a light and comfortable
+diving helmet, and so clad, on the following Christmas
+Eve he awaited the coming of his tormentor.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bitterly cold night that brought to a
+close this twenty-fourth day of December. The
+air outside was still, but the temperature was below
+zero. Within all was quiet, the servants of
+Harrowby Hall awaiting with beating hearts the
+outcome of their master's campaign against his
+supernatural visitor.</p>
+
+<p>The master himself was lying on the bed in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
+haunted room, clad as has already been indicated,
+and then&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>The clock clanged out the hour of twelve.</p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden banging of doors, a blast of
+cold air swept through the halls, the door leading
+into the haunted chamber flew open, a splash was
+heard, and the water ghost was seen standing at the
+side of the heir of Harrowby, from whose outer
+dress there streamed rivulets of water, but whose
+own person deep down under the various garments
+he wore was as dry and as warm as he could have
+wished.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha!&rdquo; said the young master of Harrowby.
+&ldquo;I'm glad to see you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are the most original man I've met, if
+that is true,&rdquo; returned the ghost. &ldquo;May I ask
+where did you get that hat?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly, madam,&rdquo; returned the master, courteously.
+&ldquo;It is a little portable observatory I had
+made for just such emergencies as this. But, tell
+me, is it true that you are doomed to follow me
+about for one mortal hour&mdash;to stand where I stand,
+to sit where I sit?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is my delectable fate,&rdquo; returned the lady.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We'll go out on the lake,&rdquo; said the master,
+starting up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can't get rid of me that way,&rdquo; returned the
+ghost. &ldquo;The water won't swallow me up; in fact,
+it will just add to my present bulk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nevertheless,&rdquo; said the master, firmly, &ldquo;we
+will go out on the lake.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, my dear sir,&rdquo; returned the ghost, with a
+pale reluctance, &ldquo;it is fearfully cold out there.
+You will be frozen hard before you've been out ten
+minutes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh no, I'll not,&rdquo; replied the master. &ldquo;I am
+very warmly dressed. Come!&rdquo; This last in a tone
+of command that made the ghost ripple.</p>
+
+<p>And they started.</p>
+
+<p>They had not gone far before the water ghost
+showed signs of distress.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You walk too slowly,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;I am nearly
+frozen. My knees are so stiff now I can hardly
+move. I beseech you to accelerate your step.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should like to oblige a lady,&rdquo; returned the
+master, courteously, &ldquo;but my clothes are rather
+heavy, and a hundred yards an hour is about my
+speed. Indeed, I think we would better sit down
+here on this snowdrift, and talk matters over.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do not! Do not do so, I beg!&rdquo; cried the ghost.
+&ldquo;Let me move on. I feel myself growing rigid as
+it is. If we stop here, I shall be frozen stiff.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That, madam,&rdquo; said the master slowly, and
+seating himself on an ice-cake&mdash;&ldquo;that is why I
+have brought you here. We have been on this
+spot just ten minutes; we have fifty more. Take
+your time about it, madam, but freeze, that is all
+I ask of you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot move my right leg now,&rdquo; cried the
+ghost, in despair, &ldquo;and my overskirt is a solid sheet
+of ice. Oh, good, kind Mr. Oglethorpe, light a fire,
+and let me go free from these icy fetters.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never, madam. It cannot be. I have you
+at last.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; cried the ghost, a tear trickling down
+her frozen cheek. &ldquo;Help me, I beg. I congeal!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Congeal, madam, congeal!&rdquo; returned Oglethorpe,
+coldly. &ldquo;You have drenched me and mine
+for two hundred and three years, madam. To-night
+you have had your last drench.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, but I shall thaw out again, and then you'll
+see. Instead of the comfortably tepid, genial
+ghost I have been in my past, sir, I shall be iced-water,&rdquo;
+cried the lady, threateningly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, you won't, either,&rdquo; returned Oglethorpe;
+&ldquo;for when you are frozen quite stiff, I shall send
+you to a cold-storage warehouse, and there shall
+you remain an icy work of art forever more.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But warehouses burn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So they do, but this warehouse cannot burn.
+It is made of asbestos and surrounding it are fireproof
+walls, and within those walls the temperature
+is now and shall forever be 416 degrees below the
+zero point; low enough to make an icicle of any
+flame in this world&mdash;or the next,&rdquo; the master
+added, with an ill-suppressed chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For the last time let me beseech you. I would
+go on my knees to you, Oglethorpe, were they not
+already frozen. I beg of you do not doo&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here even the words froze on the water-ghost's
+lips and the clock struck one. There was a
+momentary tremor throughout the ice-bound form,
+and the moon, coming out from behind a cloud,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+shone down on the rigid figure of a beautiful woman
+sculptured in clear, transparent ice. There stood
+the ghost of Harrowby Hall, conquered by the
+cold, a prisoner for all time.</p>
+
+<p>The heir of Harrowby had won at last, and to-day
+in a large storage house in London stands the
+frigid form of one who will never again flood the
+house of Oglethorpe with woe and sea-water.</p>
+
+<p>As for the heir of Harrowby, his success in coping
+with a ghost has made him famous, a fame that
+still lingers about him, although his victory took
+place some twenty years ago; and so far from being
+unpopular with the fair sex, as he was when we first
+knew him, he has not only been married twice, but
+is to lead a third bride to the altar before the year
+is out.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="BACK_FROM_THAT_BOURNE" id="BACK_FROM_THAT_BOURNE"></a>BACK FROM THAT BOURNE</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
+<h4>ANONYMOUS</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From the New York <i>Sun</i>. By permission of the editor.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>Back from That Bourne</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
+<h4>ANONYMOUS</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class="hang"><i>Practical Working of Materialization in Maine. A
+Strange Story from Pocock Island&mdash;A Materialized
+Spirit that Will not Go back. The First Glimpse
+of what May yet Cause very Extensive Trouble in
+this World.</i></p></div>
+
+<center>(The <i>Sun</i>, Saturday, December 19, 1874.)</center>
+
+
+<p>We are permitted to make extracts from a
+private letter which bears the signature of a gentleman
+well known in business circles, and whose
+veracity we have never heard called in question.
+His statements are startling and well-nigh incredible,
+but if true, they are susceptible of easy verification.
+Yet the thoughtful mind will hesitate
+about accepting them without the fullest proof,
+for they spring upon the world a social problem
+of stupendous importance. The dangers apprehended
+by Mr. Malthus and his followers become
+remote and commonplace by the side of this new
+and terrible issue.</p>
+
+<p>The letter is dated at Pocock Island, a small
+township in Washington County, Maine, about
+seventeen miles from the mainland and nearly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
+midway between Mt. Desert and the Grand
+Menan. The last state census accords to Pocock
+Island a population of 311, mostly engaged in the
+porgy fisheries. At the Presidential election of
+1872 the island gave Grant a majority of three.
+These two facts are all that we are able to learn
+of the locality from sources outside of the letter
+already referred to.</p>
+
+<p>The letter, omitting certain passages which refer
+solely to private matters, reads as follows:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But enough of the disagreeable business that
+brought me here to this bleak island in the month
+of November. I have a singular story to tell you.
+After our experience together at Chittenden I
+know you will not reject statements because they
+are startling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My friend, there is upon Pocock Island a
+materialized spirit which (or who) refuses to be
+dematerialized. At this moment and within a
+quarter of a mile from me as I write, a man who
+died and was buried four years ago, and who has
+exploited the mysteries beyond the grave, walks,
+talks, and holds interviews with the inhabitants of
+the island, and is, to all appearances, determined
+to remain permanently upon this side of the river.
+I will relate the circumstances as briefly as I can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4>JOHN NEWBEGIN</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In April, 1870, John Newbegin died and was
+buried in the little cemetery on the landward side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
+of the island. Newbegin was a man of about
+forty-eight, without family or near connections,
+and eccentric to a degree that sometimes inspired
+questions as to his sanity. What money he had
+earned by many seasons' fishing upon the banks
+was invested in quarters of two small mackerel
+schooners, the remainder of which belonged to
+John Hodgeson, the richest man on Pocock, who
+was estimated by good authorities to be worth
+thirteen or fourteen thousand dollars.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Newbegin was not without a certain kind of
+culture. He had read a good deal of the odds and
+ends of literature and, as a simple-minded islander
+expressed it in my hearing, knew more bookfuls
+than anybody on the island. He was naturally
+an intelligent man; and he might have attained
+influence in the community had it not been
+for his utter aimlessness of character, his indifference
+to fortune, and his consuming thirst for
+rum.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Many yachtsmen who have had occasion to
+stop at Pocock for water or for harbor shelter during
+eastern cruises, will remember a long, listless
+figure, astonishingly attired in blue army pants,
+rubber boots, loose toga made of some bright chintz
+material, and very bad hat, staggering through the
+little settlement, followed by a rabble of jeering
+brats, and pausing to strike uncertain blows at
+those within reach of the dead sculpin which he
+usually carried round by the tail. This was John
+Newbegin.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h4>HIS SUDDEN DEATH</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As I have already remarked, he died four years
+ago last April. The <i>Mary Emmeline</i>, one of the
+little schooners in which he owned, had returned
+from the eastward, and had smuggled, or 'run in'
+a quantity of St. John brandy. Newbegin had a
+solitary and protracted debauch. He was missed
+from his accustomed walks for several days, and
+when the islanders broke into the hovel where he
+lived, close down to the seaweed and almost within
+reach of the incoming tide, they found him dead on
+the floor, with an emptied demijohn hard by his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After the primitive custom of the island, they
+interred John Newbegin's remains without coroner's
+inquest, burial certificate, or funeral services,
+and in the excitement of a large catch of porgies
+that summer, soon forgot him and his friendless
+life. His interest in the <i>Mary Emmeline</i> and the
+<i>Prettyboat</i> recurred to John Hodgeson; and as nobody
+came forward to demand an administration
+of the estate, it was never administered. The
+forms of law are but loosely followed in some of
+these marginal localities.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4>HIS REAPPEARANCE AT POCOCK</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, my dear &mdash;&mdash;, four years and four
+months had brought their quota of varying seasons
+to Pocock Island when John Newbegin reappeared
+under the following circumstances:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the latter part of last August, as you may
+remember, there was a heavy gale all along our
+Atlantic coast. During this storm the squadron of
+the Naugatuck Yacht Club, which was returning
+from a summer cruise as far as Campobello, was
+forced to take shelter in the harbor to the leeward
+of Pocock Island. The gentlemen of the club
+spent three days at the little settlement ashore.
+Among the party was Mr. R&mdash;&mdash; E&mdash;&mdash;, by which
+name you will recognize a medium of celebrity, and
+one who has been particularly successful in materializations.
+At the desire of his companions, and to
+relieve the tedium of their detention, Mr. E&mdash;&mdash;
+improvised a cabinet in the little schoolhouse at
+Pocock, and gave a <i>s&eacute;ance</i>, to the delight of his
+fellow yachtsmen and the utter bewilderment of
+such natives as were permitted to witness the
+manifestations.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The conditions appeared unusually favorable
+to spirit appearances and the <i>s&eacute;ance</i> was upon the
+whole perhaps the most remarkable that Mr. E&mdash;&mdash;
+ever held. It was all the more remarkable because
+the surroundings were such that the most prejudiced
+skeptic could discover no possibility of
+trickery.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The first form to issue from the wood closet
+which constituted the cabinet, when Mr. E&mdash;&mdash;
+had been tied therein by a committee of old sailors
+from the yachts, was that of an Indian chief who
+announced himself as Hock-a-mock, and who retired
+after dancing a 'Harvest Moon' <i>pas seul</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
+and declaring himself in very emphatic terms, as
+opposed to the present Indian policy of the Administration.
+Hock-a-mock was succeeded by the
+aunt of one of the yachtsmen, who identified herself
+beyond question by allusion to family matters
+and by displaying the scar of a burn upon her left
+arm, received while making tomato catsup upon
+earth. Then came successively a child whom none
+present recognized, a French Canadian who could
+not talk English, and a portly gentleman who introduced
+himself as William King, first Governor
+of Maine. These in turn re&euml;ntered the cabinet
+and were seen no more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was some time before another spirit manifested
+itself, and Mr. E&mdash;&mdash; gave directions that
+the lights be turned down still further. Then the
+door of the wood closet was slowly opened and a
+singular figure in rubber boots and a species of
+Dolly Varden garment emerged, bringing a dead
+fish in his right hand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4>HIS DETERMINATION TO REMAIN</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The city men who were present, I am told,
+thought that the medium was masquerading in
+grotesque habiliments for the more complete astonishment
+of the islanders, but these latter rose
+from their seats and exclaimed with one consent:
+'It is John Newbegin!' And then, in not unnatural
+terror of the apparition they turned and fled from
+the schoolroom, uttering dismal cries.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John Newbegin came calmly forward and
+turned up the solitary kerosene lamp that shed uncertain
+light over the proceedings. He then sat
+down in the teacher's chair, folded his arms, and
+looked complacently about him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'You might as well untie the medium,' he
+finally remarked. 'I propose to remain in the
+materialized condition.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And he did remain. When the party left the
+schoolhouse among them walked John Newbegin,
+as truly a being of flesh and blood as any man of
+them. From that day to this, he has been a living
+inhabitant of Pocock Island, eating, drinking,
+(water only) and sleeping after the manner of men.
+The yachtsmen who made sail for Bar Harbor the
+very next morning, probably believe that he was a
+fraud hired for the occasion by Mr. E&mdash;&mdash;. But
+the people of Pocock, who laid him out, dug his
+grave, and put him into it four years ago, know that
+John Newbegin has come back to them from a land
+they know not of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4>A SINGULAR MEMBER OF SOCIETY</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The idea, of having a ghost&mdash;somewhat more
+condensed it is true than the traditional ghost&mdash;as
+a member was not at first overpleasing to the 311
+inhabitants of Pocock Island. To this day, they
+are a little sensitive upon the subject, feeling evidently
+that if the matter got abroad, it might injure
+the sale of the really excellent porgy oil which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
+is the product of their sole manufacturing interest.
+This reluctance to advertise the skeleton in their
+closet, superadded to the slowness of these obtuse,
+fishy, matter-of-fact people to recognize the transcendent
+importance of the case, must be accepted
+as explanation of the fact that John Newbegin's
+spirit has been on earth between three and four
+months, and yet the singular circumstance is not
+known to the whole country.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the Pocockians have at last come to see
+that a spirit is not necessarily a malevolent spirit,
+and accepting his presence as a fact in their stolid,
+unreasoning way, they are quite neighborly and
+sociable with Mr. Newbegin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know that your first question will be: 'Is
+there sufficient proof of his ever having been dead?'
+To this I answer unhesitatingly, 'Yes.' He was
+too well-known a character and too many people
+saw the corpse to admit of any mistake on this
+point. I may add here that it was at one time
+proposed to disinter the original remains, but that
+project was abandoned in deference to the wishes
+of Mr. Newbegin, who feels a natural delicacy
+about having his first set of bones disturbed from
+motives of mere curiosity.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4>AN INTERVIEW WITH A DEAD MAN</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will readily believe that I took occasion to
+see and converse with John Newbegin. I found
+him affable and even communicative. He is perfectly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+aware of his doubtful status as a being, but
+is in hopes that at some future time there may be
+legislation that shall correctly define his position
+and the position of any spirit who may follow him
+into the material world. The only point upon
+which he is reticent is his experience during the
+four years that elapsed between his death and his
+reappearance at Pocock. It is to be presumed that
+the memory is not a pleasant one: at least he never
+speaks of this period. He candidly admits, however,
+that he is glad to get back to earth and that
+he embraced the very first opportunity to be
+materialized.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Newbegin says that he is consumed with
+remorse for the wasted years of his previous existence.
+Indeed, his conduct during the past three
+months would show that this regret is genuine.
+He has discarded his eccentric costume, and dresses
+like a reasonable spirit. He has not touched liquor
+since his reappearance. He has embarked in the
+porgy oil business, and his operations already rival
+that of Hodgeson, his old partner in the <i>Mary
+Emmeline</i> and the <i>Prettyboat</i>. By the way, Newbegin
+threatens to sue Hodgeson for his individed
+quarter in each of these vessels, and this interesting
+case therefore bids fair to be thoroughly investigated
+in the courts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As a business man, he is generally esteemed on
+the Island, although there is a noticeable reluctance
+to discount his paper at long dates. In short,
+Mr. John Newbegin is a most respectable citizen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
+(if a dead man can be a citizen) and has announced
+his intention of running for the next Legislature!&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4>IN CONCLUSION</h4>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now, my dear &mdash;&mdash;, I have told you the
+substance of all I know respecting this strange,
+strange case. Yet, after all, why so strange? We
+accepted materialization at Chittenden. Is this
+any more than the logical issue of that admission?
+If the spirit may return to earth, clothed in flesh
+and blood and all the physical attributes of humanity,
+why may it not remain on earth as long as it
+sees fit?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thinking of it from whatever standpoint, I
+cannot but regard John Newbegin as the pioneer
+of a possibly large immigration from the spirit
+world. The bars once down, a whole flock will
+come trooping back to earth. Death will lose its
+significance altogether. And when I think of the
+disturbance which will result in our social relations,
+of the overthrow of all accepted institutions, and
+of the nullification of all principles of political
+economy, law, and religion, I am lost in perplexity
+and apprehension.&rdquo;</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_GHOST-SHIP" id="THE_GHOST-SHIP"></a>THE GHOST-SHIP</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> RICHARD MIDDLETON</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>The Ghost-Ship</i> by Richard Middleton. Published by
+permission of Mitchell Kennerley, and taken from the volume,
+<i>The Ghost-Ship and Other Stories</i>.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Ghost-Ship</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> RICHARD MIDDLETON</h4>
+
+
+<p>Fairfield is a little village lying near the Portsmouth
+Road, about halfway between London and
+the sea. Strangers, who now and then find it by
+accident, call it a pretty, old-fashioned place; we
+who live in it and call it home don't find anything
+very pretty about it, but we should be sorry to
+live anywhere else. Our minds have taken the
+shape of the inn and the church and the green, I
+suppose. At all events, we never feel comfortable
+out of Fairfield.</p>
+
+<p>Of course the cockneys, with their vasty houses
+and noise-ridden streets, can call us rustics if they
+choose; but for all that, Fairfield is a better place
+to live in than London. Doctor says that when he
+goes to London his mind is bruised with the weight
+of the houses, and he was a cockney born. He had
+to live there himself when he was a little chap, but
+he knows better now. You gentlemen may laugh&mdash;perhaps
+some of you come from London-way,&mdash;but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+it seems to me that a witness like that is worth
+a gallon of arguments.</p>
+
+<p>Dull? Well, you might find it dull, but I assure
+you that I've listened to all the London yarns you
+have spun to-night, and they're absolutely nothing
+to the things that happen at Fairfield. It's because
+of our way of thinking, and minding our own business.
+If one of your Londoners was set down on
+the green of a Saturday night when the ghosts of
+the lads who died in the war keep tryst with the
+lasses who lie in the churchyard, he couldn't help
+being curious and interfering, and then the ghosts
+would go somewhere where it was quieter. But we
+just let them come and go and don't make any fuss,
+and in consequence Fairfield is the ghostiest place
+in all England. Why, I've seen a headless man
+sitting on the edge of the well in broad daylight,
+and the children playing about his feet as if he
+were their father. Take my word for it, spirits
+know when they are well off as much as human
+beings.</p>
+
+<p>Still, I must admit that the thing I'm going to
+tell you about was queer even for our part of the
+world, where three packs of ghost-hounds hunt
+regularly during the season, and blacksmith's
+great-grandfather is busy all night shoeing the
+dead gentlemen's horses. Now that's a thing that
+wouldn't happen in London, because of their interfering
+ways; but blacksmith he lies up aloft and
+sleeps as quiet as a lamb. Once when he had a bad
+head he shouted down to them not to make so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+much noise, and in the morning he found an old
+guinea left on the anvil as an apology. He wears
+it on his watch-chain now. But I must get on with
+my story; if I start telling you about the queer happenings
+at Fairfield, I'll never stop.</p>
+
+<p>It all came of the great storm in the spring of '97,
+the year that we had two great storms. This was
+the first one, and I remember it well, because I
+found in the morning that it had lifted the thatch
+of my pigsty into the widow's garden as clean as a
+boy's kite. When I looked over the hedge, widow&mdash;Tom
+Lamport's widow that was&mdash;was prodding
+for her nasturtiums with a daisy grubber. After
+I had watched her for a little I went down to the
+Fox and Grapes to tell landlord what she had said
+to me. Landlord he laughed, being a married man
+and at ease with the sex. &ldquo;Come to that,&rdquo; he
+said, &ldquo;the tempest has blowed something into my
+field. A kind of a ship I think it would be.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I was surprised at that until he explained that
+it was only a ghost-ship, and would do no hurt to
+the turnips. We argued that it had been blown
+up from the sea at Portsmouth, and then we talked
+of something else. There were two slates down at
+the parsonage and a big tree in Lumley's meadow.
+It was a rare storm.</p>
+
+<p>I reckon the wind had blown our ghosts all over
+England. They were coming back for days afterward
+with foundered horses, and as footsore as
+possible, and they were so glad to get back to Fairfield
+that some of them walked up the street crying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+like little children. Squire said that his great-grandfather's
+great-grandfather hadn't looked so
+dead-beat since the battle of Naseby, and he's an
+educated man.</p>
+
+<p>What with one thing and another, I should think
+it was a week before we got straight again, and then
+one afternoon I met the landlord on the green, and
+he had a worried face. &ldquo;I wish you'd come and
+have a look at that ship in my field,&rdquo; he said to me.
+&ldquo;It seems to me it's leaning real hard on the turnips.
+I can't bear thinking what the missus will
+say when she sees it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I walked down the lane with him, and, sure
+enough, there was a ship in the middle of his field,
+but such a ship as no man had seen on the water
+for three hundred years, let alone in the middle of a
+turnipfield. It was all painted black, and covered
+with carvings, and there was a great bay-window
+in the stern, for all the world like the squire's drawing-room.
+There was a crowd of little black cannon
+on deck and looking out of her port-holes, and she
+was anchored at each end to the hard ground. I
+have seen the wonders of the world on picture-postcards,
+but I have never seen anything to equal
+that.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She seems very solid for a ghost-ship,&rdquo; I said,
+seeing that landlord was bothered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should say it's a betwixt and between,&rdquo; he
+answered, puzzling it over; &ldquo;but it's going to spoil
+a matter of fifty turnips, and missus she'll want it
+moved.&rdquo; We went up to her and touched the side,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+and it was as hard as a real ship. &ldquo;Now, there's
+folks in England would call that very curious,&rdquo; he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Now, I don't know much about ships, but I
+should think that that ghost-ship weighed a solid
+two hundred tons, and it seemed to me that she had
+come to stay; so that I felt sorry for landlord, who
+was a married man. &ldquo;All the horses in Fairfield
+won't move her out of my turnips,&rdquo; he said, frowning
+at her.</p>
+
+<p>Just then we heard a noise on her deck, and we
+looked up and saw that a man had come out of her
+front cabin and was looking down at us very peaceably.
+He was dressed in a black uniform set off
+with rusty gold lace, and he had a great cutlass by
+his side in a brass sheath. &ldquo;I'm Captain Bartholomew
+Roberts,&rdquo; he said in a gentleman's voice,
+&ldquo;put in for recruits. I seem to have brought her
+rather far up the harbor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Harbor!&rdquo; cried landlord. &ldquo;Why, you're fifty
+miles from the sea!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Captain Roberts didn't turn a hair. &ldquo;So much
+as that, is it?&rdquo; he said coolly. &ldquo;Well, it's of no
+consequence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Landlord was a bit upset at this. &ldquo;I don't want
+to be unneighborly,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but I wish you
+hadn't brought your ship into my field. You see,
+my wife sets great store on these turnips.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The captain took a pinch of snuff out of a fine
+gold box that he pulled out of his pocket, and
+dusted his fingers with a silk handkerchief in a very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+genteel fashion. &ldquo;I'm only here for a few months,&rdquo;
+he said, &ldquo;but if a testimony of my esteem would
+pacify your good lady, I should be content,&rdquo; and
+with the words he loosed a great gold brooch from
+the neck of his coat and tossed it down to landlord.</p>
+
+<p>Landlord blushed as red as a strawberry. &ldquo;I'm
+not denying she's fond of jewelry,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but
+it's too much for half a sackful of turnips.&rdquo; Indeed
+it was a handsome brooch.</p>
+
+<p>The captain laughed. &ldquo;Tut, man!&rdquo; he said,
+&ldquo;it's a forced sale, and you deserve a good price.
+Say no more about it,&rdquo; and nodding good day to
+us, he turned on his heel and went into the cabin.
+Landlord walked back up the lane like a man with
+a weight off his mind. &ldquo;That tempest has blowed
+me a bit of luck,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;the missus will be main
+pleased with that brooch. It's better than blacksmith's
+guinea any day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>'97 was Jubilee year&mdash;the year of the second
+Jubilee, you remember, and we had great doings at
+Fairfield, so that we hadn't much time to bother
+about the ghost-ship, though, anyhow, it isn't our
+way to meddle in things that don't concern us.
+Landlord he saw his tenant once or twice when he
+was hoeing his turnips, and passed the time of day
+and landlord's wife wore her new brooch to church
+every Sunday. But we didn't mix much with the
+ghosts at any time, all except an idiot lad there was
+in the village, and he didn't know the difference
+between a man and a ghost, poor innocent! On
+Jubilee day, however, somebody told Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
+Roberts why the church bells were ringing, and he
+hoisted a flag and fired off his guns like a loyal
+Englishman. 'T is true the guns were shotted, and
+one of the round shot knocked a hole in Farmer
+Johnstone's barn, but nobody thought much of
+that in such a season of rejoicing.</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't till our celebrations were over that
+we noticed that anything was wrong in Fairfield.
+'T was shoemaker who told me first about it one
+morning at the Fox and Grapes. &ldquo;You know my
+great-great-uncle?&rdquo; he said to me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You mean Joshua, the quiet lad?&rdquo; I answered,
+knowing him well.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quiet!&rdquo; said shoemaker, indignantly. &ldquo;Quiet
+you call him, coming home at three o'clock every
+morning as drunk as a magistrate and waking up
+the whole house with his noise!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, it can't be Joshua,&rdquo; I said, for I knew
+him for one of the most respectable young ghosts
+in the village.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Joshua it is,&rdquo; said shoemaker; &ldquo;and one of
+these nights he'll find himself out in the street if
+he isn't careful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This kind of talk shocked me, I can tell you, for
+I don't like to hear a man abusing his own family,
+and I could hardly believe that a steady youngster
+like Joshua had taken to drink. But just then in
+came butcher Aylwin in such a temper that he
+could hardly drink his beer. &ldquo;The young puppy!
+The young puppy!&rdquo; he kept on saying, and it was
+some time before shoemaker and I found out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
+that he was talking about his ancestor that fell at
+Senlac.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Drink?&rdquo; said shoemaker, hopefully, for we all
+like company in our misfortunes, and butcher
+nodded grimly. &ldquo;The young noodle!&rdquo; he said,
+emptying his tankard.</p>
+
+<p>Well, after that I kept my ears open, and it was
+the same story all over the village. There was
+hardly a young man among all the ghosts of Fairfield
+who didn't roll home in the small hours of the
+morning the worse for liquor. I used to wake up
+in the night and hear them stumble past my house,
+singing outrageous songs. The worst of it was that
+we couldn't keep the scandal to ourselves, and the
+folk at Greenhill began to talk of &ldquo;sodden Fairfield&rdquo;
+and taught their children to sing a song
+about us:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sodden Fairfield, sodden Fairfield,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has no use for bread and butter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rum for breakfast, rum for dinner,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Rum for tea, and rum for supper!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>We are easy-going in our village, but we didn't like
+that.</p>
+
+<p>Of course we soon found out where the young
+fellows went to get the drink, and landlord was
+terribly cut up that his tenant should have turned
+out so badly; but his wife wouldn't hear of parting
+with the brooch, so he couldn't give the captain
+notice to quit. But as time went on, things grew
+from bad to worse, and at all hours of the day you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
+would see those young reprobates sleeping it off on
+the village green. Nearly every afternoon a ghost-wagon
+used to jolt down to the ship with a lading
+of rum, and though the older ghosts seemed inclined
+to give the captain's hospitality the go-by,
+the youngsters were neither to hold nor to bind.</p>
+
+<p>So one afternoon when I was taking my nap, I
+heard a knock at the door, and there was parson,
+looking very serious, like a man with a job before
+him that he didn't altogether relish.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'm going down to talk to the captain about all
+this drunkenness in the village, and I want you to
+come with me,&rdquo; he said straight out.</p>
+
+<p>I can't say that I fancied the visit much myself,
+and I tried to hint to parson that as, after all, they
+were only a lot of ghosts, it didn't much matter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dead or alive, I'm responsible for their good
+conduct,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and I'm going to do my duty
+and put a stop to this continued disorder. And you
+are coming with me, John Simmons.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So I went, parson being a persuasive kind of
+man.</p>
+
+<p>We went down to the ship, and as we approached
+her, I could see the captain tasting the air on deck.
+When he saw parson, he took off his hat very
+politely, and I can tell you that I was relieved to
+find that he had a proper respect for the cloth.
+Parson acknowledged his salute, and spoke out
+stoutly enough.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sir, I should be glad to have a word with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come on board, sir; come on board,&rdquo; said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+captain, and I could tell by his voice that he knew
+why we were there.</p>
+
+<p>Parson and I climbed up an uneasy kind of
+ladder, and the captain took us into the great cabin
+at the back of the ship, where the bay-window was.
+It was the most wonderful place you ever saw in
+your life, all full of gold and silver plate, swords
+with jeweled scabbards, carved oak chairs, and
+great chests that looked as though they were bursting
+with guineas. Even parson was surprised, and
+he did not shake his head very hard when the
+captain took down some silver cups and poured us
+out a drink of rum. I tasted mine, and I don't
+mind saying that it changed my view of things
+entirely. There was nothing betwixt and between
+about that rum, and I felt that it was ridiculous to
+blame the lads for drinking too much of stuff like
+that. It seemed to fill my veins with honey and fire.</p>
+
+<p>Parson put the case squarely to the captain, but
+I didn't listen much to what he said. I was busy
+sipping my drink and looking through the window
+at the fishes swimming to and fro over landlord's
+turnips. Just then it seemed the most natural
+thing in the world that they should be there,
+though afterward, of course, I could see that that
+proved it was a ghost-ship.</p>
+
+<p>But even then I thought it was queer when I
+saw a drowned sailor float by in the thin air, with
+his hair and beard all full of bubbles. It was the
+first time I had seen anything quite like that at
+Fairfield.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All the time I was regarding the wonders of the
+deep, parson was telling Captain Roberts how
+there was no peace or rest in the village owing to
+the curse of drunkenness, and what a bad example
+the youngsters were setting to the older ghosts.
+The captain listened very attentively, and put in a
+word only now and then about boys being boys and
+young men sowing their wild oats. But when parson
+had finished his speech, he filled up our silver
+cups and said to parson with a flourish:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should be sorry to cause trouble anywhere
+where I have been made welcome, and you will be
+glad to hear that I put to sea to-morrow night.
+And now you must drink me a prosperous voyage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So we all stood up and drank the toast with
+honor, and that noble rum was like hot oil in my
+veins.</p>
+
+<p>After that, captain showed us some of the curiosities
+he had brought back from foreign parts,
+and we were greatly amazed, though afterward I
+couldn't clearly remember what they were. And
+then I found myself walking across the turnips
+with parson, and I was telling him of the glories
+of the deep that I had seen through the window of
+the ship. He turned on me severely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I were you, John Simmons,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I
+should go straight home to bed.&rdquo; He has a way of
+putting things that wouldn't occur to an ordinary
+man, has parson, and I did as he told me.</p>
+
+<p>Well, next day it came on to blow, and it blew
+harder and harder, till about eight o'clock at night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
+I heard a noise and looked out into the garden. I
+dare say you won't believe me,&mdash;it seems a bit tall
+even to me,&mdash;but the wind had lifted the thatch
+of my pigsty into the widow's garden a second
+time. I thought I wouldn't wait to hear what
+widow had to say about it, so I went across the
+green to the Fox and Grapes, and the wind was so
+strong that I danced along on tiptoe like a girl at
+the fair. When I got to the inn, landlord had to
+help me shut the door. It seemed as though a
+dozen goats were pushing against it to come in
+out of the storm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It's a powerful tempest,&rdquo; he said, drawing the
+beer. &ldquo;I hear there's a chimney down at Dickory
+End.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It's a funny thing how these sailors know about
+the weather,&rdquo; I answered. &ldquo;When captain said
+he was going to-night, I was thinking it would take
+a capful of wind to carry the ship back to sea; and
+now here's more than a capful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, yes,&rdquo; said landlord; &ldquo;it's to-night he goes
+true enough, and mind you, though he treated me
+handsome over the rent, I'm not sure it's a loss to
+the village. I don't hold with gentrice, who fetch
+their drink from London instead of helping local
+traders to get their living.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you haven't got any rum like his,&rdquo; I said,
+to draw him out.</p>
+
+<p>His neck grew red above his collar, and I was
+afraid I'd gone too far; but after a while he got his
+breath with a grunt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John Simmons,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;if you've come
+down here this windy night to talk a lot of fool's
+talk, you've wasted a journey.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Well, of course then I had to smooth him down
+with praising his rum, and Heaven forgive me for
+swearing it was better than captain's. For the
+like of that rum no living lips have tasted save
+mine and parson's. But somehow or other I
+brought landlord round, and presently we must
+have a glass of his best to prove its quality.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Beat that if you can,&rdquo; he cried, and we both
+raised our glasses to our mouths, only to stop halfway
+and look at each other in amaze. For the
+wind that had been howling outside like an outrageous
+dog had all of a sudden turned as melodious
+as the carol-boys of a Christmas eve.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Surely that's not my Martha,&rdquo; whispered landlord,
+Martha being his great-aunt who lived in the
+loft overhead.</p>
+
+<p>We went to the door, and the wind burst it open
+so that the handle was driven clean into the plaster
+of the wall, but we didn't think about that at the
+time; for over our heads, sailing very comfortably
+through the windy stars, was the ship that had
+passed the summer in landlord's field. Her port-holes
+and her bay-window were blazing with lights,
+and there was a noise of singing and fiddling on her
+decks. &ldquo;He's gone!&rdquo; shouted landlord above the
+storm, &ldquo;and he's taken half the village with him.&rdquo;
+I could only nod in answer, not having lungs like
+bellows of leather.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In the morning we were able to measure the
+strength of the storm, and over and above my
+pigsty, there was damage enough wrought in the
+village to keep us busy. True it is that the children
+had to break down no branches for the firing that
+autumn, since the wind had strewn the woods with
+more than they could carry away. Many of our
+ghosts were scattered abroad, but this time very
+few came back, all the young men having sailed
+with captain; and not only ghosts, for a poor half-witted
+lad was missing, and we reckoned that he
+had stowed himself away or perhaps shipped as
+cabin-boy, not knowing any better.</p>
+
+<p>What with the lamentations of the ghost girls
+and the grumblings of families who had lost ancestors,
+the village was upset for a while, and the
+funny thing was that it was the folk who had complained
+most of the carryings-on of the youngsters
+who made most noise now that they were gone. I
+hadn't any sympathy with shoemaker or butcher,
+who ran about saying how much they missed their
+lads, but it made me grieve to hear the poor bereaved
+girls calling their lovers by name on the
+village green at nightfall. It didn't seem fair to
+me that they should have lost their men a second
+time, after giving up life in order to join them, as
+like as not. Still, not even a spirit can be sorry
+forever, and after a few months we made up our
+mind that the folk who had sailed in the ship were
+never coming back; and we didn't talk about it
+any more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And then one day, I dare say it would be a couple
+of years after, when the whole business was quite
+forgotten, who should come trapesing along the
+road from Portsmouth but the daft lad who had
+gone away with the ship without waiting till he
+was dead to become a ghost. You never saw such a
+boy as that in all your life. He had a great rusty
+cutlass hanging to a string at his waist, and he was
+tattooed all over in fine colors, so that even his
+face looked like a girl's sampler. He had a handkerchief
+in his hand full of foreign shells and old-fashioned
+pieces of small money, very curious, and
+he walked up to the well outside his mother's house
+and drew himself a drink as if he had been nowhere
+in particular.</p>
+
+<p>The worst of it was that he had come back as
+soft-headed as he went, and try as we might, we
+couldn't get anything reasonable out of him. He
+talked a lot of gibberish about keelhauling and
+walking the plank and crimson murders&mdash;things
+which a decent sailor should know nothing about,
+so that it seemed to me that for all his manners
+captain had been more of a pirate than a gentleman
+mariner. But to draw sense out of that boy was as
+hard as picking cherries off a crab-tree. One silly
+tale he had that he kept on drifting back to, and to
+hear him you would have thought that it was the
+only thing that happened to him in his life.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We was at anchor,&rdquo; he would say, &ldquo;off an
+island called the Basket of Flowers, and the sailors
+had caught a lot of parrots and we were teaching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
+them to swear. Up and down the decks, up and
+down the decks, and the language they used was
+dreadful. Then we looked up and saw the masts of
+the Spanish ship outside the harbor. Outside the
+harbor they were, so we threw the parrots into the
+sea, and sailed out to fight. And all the parrots
+were drowneded in the sea, and the language they
+used was dreadful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That's the sort of boy he was&mdash;nothing but silly
+talk of parrots when we asked him about the fighting.
+And we never had a chance of teaching him
+better, for two days after he ran away again, and
+hasn't been seen since.</p>
+
+<p>That's my story, and I assure you that things
+like that are happening at Fairfield all the time.
+The ship has never come back, but somehow, as
+people grow older, they seem to think that one of
+these windy nights she'll come sailing in over the
+hedges with all the lost ghosts on board. Well,
+when she comes, she'll be welcome. There's one
+ghost lass that has never grown tired of waiting
+for her lad to return. Every night you'll see her
+out on the green, straining her poor eyes with looking
+for the mast-lights among the stars. A faithful
+lass you'd call her, and I'm thinking you'd be right.</p>
+
+<p>Landlord's field wasn't a penny the worse for the
+visit; but they do say that since then the turnips
+that have been grown in it have tasted of rum.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_TRANSPLANTED_GHOST" id="THE_TRANSPLANTED_GHOST"></a>THE TRANSPLANTED GHOST</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
+<h4>A CHRISTMAS STORY<br />
+BY WALLACE IRWIN</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>Everybody's Magazine</i>. By permission of <i>Everybody's</i>
+and Wallace Irwin.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Transplanted Ghost</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p>
+<h4>A CHRISTMAS STORY</h4>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> WALLACE IRWIN</h4>
+
+
+<p>When Aunt Elizabeth asked me to spend Christmas
+with her at Seven Oaks she appended a peculiar
+request to her letter. &ldquo;Like a good fellow,&rdquo;
+she wrote, &ldquo;won't you drop off at Perkinsville,
+Ohio, on your way, and take a look at Gauntmoor
+Castle? They say it's a wonderful old pile; and
+its history is in many ways connected with that of
+our own family. As long as you're the last of
+the Geoffray Pierreponts, such things ought to interest
+you.&rdquo; Like her auburn namesake who
+bossed the Thames of yore, sweet, red-haired,
+romantic autocrat, Aunt Elizabeth! Her wishes
+were commands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What the deuce is Aunt Elizabeth up to now?&rdquo;
+I asked Tim Cole, my law partner, whom I found
+in my rooms smoking my tobacco. &ldquo;Why should
+I be inspecting Gauntmoor Castle&mdash;and what is a
+castle named Gauntmoor doing in Perkinsville,
+Ohio, anyway? Perkinsville sounds like the
+Middle West, and Gauntmoor sounds like the
+Middle Ages.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Right in both analyses,&rdquo; said the pipe-poaching
+Tim. &ldquo;Castle Gauntmoor <i>is</i> from the Middle
+Ages, and we all know about where in Ohio Perkinsville
+is. But is it possible that you, twenty-seven
+years old and a college graduate, haven't heard of
+Thaddeus Hobson, the Marvelous Millionaire?&rdquo;
+I shook my head. &ldquo;The papers have been full of
+Hobson in the past two or three years,&rdquo; said Tim.
+&ldquo;It was in 1898, I think, that Fate jumped Thaddeus
+Hobson to the golden Olympus. He was first
+head salesman in the village hardware store, then
+he formulated so successful a scheme to clean up
+the Tin Plate Combine that he put away a fabulous
+number of millions in a year, and subsequently
+went to England. Finally he set his heart on Norman
+architecture. After a search he found the
+ancient Castle Gauntmoor still habitable and for
+sale. He thrilled the British comic papers by his
+offer to buy the castle and move it to America.
+Hobson saw the property, telegraphed to London,
+and closed the deal in two hours. And an army of
+laborers at once began taking the Gauntmoor to
+pieces, stone by stone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Transporting that relic to America involved
+a cost in labor and ingenuity comparable with
+nothing that has yet happened. Moving the Great
+Pyramid would be a lighter job, perhaps. Thousands
+of tons of scarred and medieval granite were
+carried to the railroads, freighted to the sea, and
+dragged across the Atlantic in whopping big
+lighters chartered for the job. And the next the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+newspapers knew, the monster was set up in Perkinsville,
+Ohio.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But why did he do it?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who knows?&rdquo; said Tim. &ldquo;Ingrowing sentiment&mdash;unlimited
+capital&mdash;wanted to do something
+for the Home Town, probably; wanted to
+beautify the village that gave him his start&mdash;and
+didn't know how to go at it. Well, so long!&rdquo; he
+called out, as I seized my hat and streaked for the
+train.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>It was dinner time when the train pulled in at
+Perkinsville. The town was as undistinguished as
+I expected. I was too hungry to care about castles
+at the moment, so I took the 'bus for the Commercial
+Hotel, an establishment that seemed to
+live up to its name, both in sentiment and in accommodation.
+The landlord, Mr. Spike, referred
+bitterly to the castle, which, he explained, was, by
+its dominating presence, &ldquo;spoilin' the prosperous
+appearance of Perkinsville.&rdquo; Dinner over, he led
+me to a side porch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How does Perkinsville look with that&mdash;with
+that curio squattin' on top of it?&rdquo; asked Mr. Spike
+sternly, as he pointed over the local livery stable,
+over Smith Brothers' Plow Works, over Odd
+Fellows' Hall, and up, up to the bleak hills beyond,
+where, poised like a stony coronet on a giant's
+brow, rose the great Norman towers and frowning
+buttresses of Gauntmoor Castle. I rubbed my eyes.
+No, it <i>couldn't</i> be real&mdash;it must be a wizard's work!</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What's old Hobson got out of it?&rdquo; said Mr.
+Spike in my ear. &ldquo;Nothin' but an old stone barn,
+where he can set all day nursin' a grouch and
+keepin' his daughter Anita&mdash;they do say he does&mdash;under
+lock and key for fear somebody's goin' to
+marry her for her money.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Spike looked up at the ramparts defiantly,
+even as the Saxon churl must have gazed in an
+earlier, far sadder land.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It's romantic,&rdquo; I suggested.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, <i>darn</i> rheumatic,&rdquo; agreed Mr. Spike.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it open for visitors?&rdquo; I asked innocently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hobson?&rdquo; cackled Spike. &ldquo;He'd no more welcome
+a stranger to that place than he'd welcome&mdash;a
+ghost. He's a hol-ee terror, Hobson!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Spike turned away to referee a pool game
+down in the barroom.</p>
+
+<p>The fires of a December sunset flared behind
+Gauntmoor and cast the grim shadows of Medievalism
+over Mediocrity, which lay below. Presently
+the light faded, and I grew tired of gazing.
+Since Hobson would permit no tourists to inspect
+his castle, why was I here on this foolish trip?
+Already I was planning to wire Aunt Elizabeth a
+sarcastic reference to being marooned at Christmas
+with a castle on my hands, when a voice at my
+shoulder said suddenly:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Hobson sends his compliments, sir, and
+wants to know would Mr. Pierrepont come up to
+Gauntmoor for the night?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A groom in a plum-colored livery stood at my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+elbow. A light station wagon was waiting just
+outside. How the deuce did Hobson know my
+name? What did he want of me at Gauntmoor
+this time of night? Yet prospects of bed and
+breakfast away from the Commercial lured me
+strangely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure, Mr. Pierrepont will be delighted,&rdquo; I
+announced, leaping into the vehicle, and soon we
+were mounting upward, battling with the winds
+around the time-scarred walls. The wagon stopped
+at the great gate. A horn sounded from within,
+the gate swung open, a drawbridge fell with a
+hideous creaking of machinery, and we passed in,
+twenty or thirty feet above the snow-drifted moat.
+Beyond the portcullis a dim door swung open.
+Some sort of seneschal met us with a light and led
+us below the twilight arches, where beyond, I
+could catch glimpses of the baileys and courts and
+the donjon tower against the heavy ramparts.</p>
+
+<p>The wind hooted through the high galleries as
+we passed; but the west wing, from its many windows
+and loopholes, blazed with cheerful yellow
+light. It looked nearly cozy. Into a tall, gaunt
+tower we plunged, down a winding staircase, and
+suddenly we came into a vast hall, stately with
+tapestries and innumerable monkish carvings&mdash;and
+all brightly lighted with electricity!</p>
+
+<p>A little fat man sat smoking in a chair near the
+fire. When I entered he was in his shirt sleeves,
+reading a newspaper, but when a footman announced
+my name the little man, in a state of great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
+nervousness, jumped to his feet and threw on a
+coat, fidgeting painfully with the armholes. As he
+came toward me, I noticed that he was perfectly
+bald. He looked dyspeptic and discontented, like
+a practical man trying vainly to adjust his busy
+habits to a lazy life. Obviously he didn't go with
+the rest of the furniture.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pleased to see you, Mr. Pierrepont,&rdquo; he said,
+looking me over carefully as if he thought of buying
+me. &ldquo;Geoffray Pierrepont&mdash;tut, tut!&mdash;ain't
+it queer!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Queer!&rdquo; I said rather peevishly. &ldquo;What's
+queer about it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Excuse me, did I say queer? I didn't mean
+to be impolite, sir&mdash;I was just thinking, that's
+all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>You could hear the demon Army of the Winds
+scaling the walls outside.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe you thought it kind of abrupt, Mr.
+Pierrepont, me asking you up here so unceremonious,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;My daughter Annie, she tells me
+I ought to live up to the looks of the place; but I've
+got my notions. To tell you the truth, I'm in an
+awful quandary about this Antique Castle business
+and when I heard you was at the hotel, I thought
+you might help me out some way. You see you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He led me to a chair and offered me a fat cigar.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;when you get your
+head above water and make good in the world&mdash;if
+you ever do&mdash;don't fool with curios, don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+monkey with antiques. Keep away from castles.
+They're like everything else sold by curio dealers&mdash;all
+humbug. Look nice, yes. But get 'em over to
+America and they either fall to pieces or the paint
+comes off. Whether it's a chair or a castle&mdash;same
+old story. The sly scalawags that sell you the
+goods won't live up to their contracts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hasn't Gauntmoor all the ancient inconveniences
+a Robber Baron could wish?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It ain't,&rdquo; announced Mr. Hobson. &ldquo;Though
+it looks all right to a stranger, perhaps. There may
+be castles in the Old World got it on Gauntmoor
+for size&mdash;thank God I didn't buy 'em!&mdash;but for
+looks you can't beat Gauntmoor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Comfortable?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can't complain. Modern plumbed throughout.
+Hard to heat, but I put an electric-light
+plant in the cellar. Daughter Annie's got a Colonial
+suite in the North Tower.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I suggested, &ldquo;if there's anything the
+castle lacks, you can buy it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There's one thing money <i>can't</i> buy,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Hobson, leaning very close and speaking in a sibilant
+whisper. &ldquo;And that's ghosts!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But who wants ghosts?&rdquo; I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now look here,&rdquo; said Mr. Hobson. &ldquo;I'm a
+business man. When I bought Gauntmoor, the
+London scalawags that sold it to me gave me distinctly
+to understand that this was a Haunted
+Castle. They showed me a haunted chamber,
+showed me the haunted wall where the ghost walks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+guaranteed the place to be the Spook Headquarters
+of the British Isles&mdash;and see what I got!&rdquo; He
+snapped his fingers in disgust.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No results?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Results? Stung! I've slept in that haunted
+room upstairs for a solid year. I've gazed night
+after night over the haunted rampart. I've even
+hired spiritualists to come and cut their didoes in
+the towers and donjon keep. No use. You can't
+get ghosts where they ain't.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I expressed my sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'm a plain man,&rdquo; said Hobson. &ldquo;I ain't got
+any ancestors back of father, who was a blacksmith,
+and a good one, when sober. Somebody else's
+ancestors is what I looked for in this place&mdash;and
+I've got 'em, too, carved in wood and stone in the
+chapel out back of the tower. But statues and
+carvings ain't like ghosts to add tone to an ancient
+lineage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is there any legend?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haven't you heard it?&rdquo; he exclaimed, looking
+at me sharply out of his small gray eyes. &ldquo;It
+seems, 'way back in the sixteenth century, there
+was a harum-scarum young feller living in a neighboring
+castle, and he took an awful shine to Lady
+Katherine, daughter of the Earl of Cummyngs,
+who was boss of this place at that time. Now the
+young man who loved Miss&mdash;I mean Lady&mdash;Katherine
+was a sort of wild proposition. Old man
+wouldn't have him around the place; but young
+man kept hanging on till Earl ordered him off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
+Finally the old gent locked Lady Kitty in the donjon
+tower,&rdquo; said Mr. Hobson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Too much shilly-shallying in <i>this</i> generation,&rdquo;
+he went on. &ldquo;Every house that's got a pretty girl
+ought to have a donjon keep. I've got both.&rdquo; He
+paused and wiped his brow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This fresh young kid I'm telling you about,
+he thought he knew more than the old folks, so he
+got a rope ladder and climbed up the masonry one
+night, intending to bust into the tower where the
+girl was. But just as he got half across the wall&mdash;out
+yonder&mdash;his foot slipped and he broke his neck
+in the moat below. Consequence, Lady Kitty goes
+crazy and old Earl found dead a week later in his
+room. It was Christmas Eve when the boy was
+killed. That's the night his ghost's supposed to
+walk along the ramparts, give a shriek, and drop
+off&mdash;but the irritating thing about it all is, it don't
+ever happen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now, Mr. Hobson,&rdquo; I said, throwing away
+the butt of my cigar, &ldquo;why am <i>I</i> here? What have
+<i>I</i> got to do with all this ghost business?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I <i>want</i> you to stay,&rdquo; said Hobson, beseechingly.
+&ldquo;To-morrow night's Christmas Eve. I've figured it
+out that your influence, somehow, you being of the
+same blood, as it were, might encourage the ghost
+to come out and save the reputation of the castle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A servant brought candles, and Hobson turned
+to retire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The same blood!&rdquo; I shouted after him. &ldquo;What
+on earth is the <i>name</i> of the ghost?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When he was alive his name was&mdash;Sir Geoffray
+de Pierrepont,&rdquo; said Thaddeus Hobson, his figure
+fading into the dimness beyond.</p>
+
+<p>I followed the servant with the candle aloft
+through chill and carven corridors, through galleries
+lined with faded portraits of forgotten lords.
+&ldquo;Wheels!&rdquo; I kept saying to myself. &ldquo;The old
+man evidently thinks it takes a live Pierrepont to
+coax a dead one,&rdquo; and I laughed nervously as I
+entered the vast brown bedroom. I had to get
+on a chair in order to climb into the four-poster, a
+cheerful affair that looked like a royal funeral
+barge. At my head I noticed a carved device,
+seven mailed hands snatching at a sword with the
+motto: &ldquo;CAVE ADSUM!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Beware, I am here!&rdquo; I translated. Who was
+here? Ghosts? Fudge! What hideous scenes had
+this chamber beheld of yore? What might not
+happen here now? Where, by the way, was old
+Hobson's daughter, Anita? Might not anything
+be possible? I covered my head with the bedclothes.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>Next morning being mild and bright for December,
+and Thaddeus Hobson and his mysterious
+daughter not having showed up for breakfast, I
+amused myself by inspecting the exterior of the
+castle. In daylight I could see that Gauntmoor, as
+now restored, consisted of only a portion of the
+original structure. On the west side, near a sheer
+fall of forty or fifty feet, stood the donjon tower, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
+fine piece of medieval barbarism with a peaked
+roof. And, sure enough! I saw it all now. Running
+along the entire west side of the castle was a
+wonderful wall, stretching above the moat to a
+dizzy height. It was no difficult matter to mount
+this wall from the courtyard, above which it rose
+no more than eight or ten feet. I ascended by a
+rude sentry's staircase, and once on top I gazed
+upward at the tall medieval prison-place, which
+reared above me like a clumsy stone chimney.
+Just as I stood, at the top of the wall, I was ten or
+twelve feet below the lowest window of the donjon
+tower. This, then, was the wall that the ancient
+Pierrepont had scaled, and yonder was the donjon
+window that he had planned to plunder on that
+fatal night so long ago. And this was where Pierrepont
+the Ghost was supposed to appear!</p>
+
+<p>How the lover of spectral memory had managed
+to scale that wall from the outside, I could not
+quite make out. But once <i>on</i> the wall, it was no
+trick to snatch the damsel from her durance vile.
+Just drop a long rope ladder from the wall to the
+moat, then crawl along the narrow ledge&mdash;got to
+be careful with a job like that&mdash;then up to the
+window of the donjon keep, and away with the
+Lady Fair. Why, that window above the ramparts
+would be an easy climb for a fellow with
+strong arms and a little nerve, as the face of the
+tower from the wall to the window was studded
+with ancient spikes and the projecting ends of beams.</p>
+
+<p>I counted the feet, one, two, three&mdash;and as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
+looked up at the window, a small, white hand
+reached out and a pink slip of paper dropped at
+my feet. It read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>: I'm Miss Hobson. I'm locked in
+the donjon tower. Father always locks me here
+when there's a young man about. It's a horrid,
+uncomfortable place. Won't you hurry and go?</p>
+
+<center>Yours respectfully,</center>
+<p style="text-align: right;"><span class="smcap">A. Hobson.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>I knew it was easy. I swung myself aloft on the
+spikes and stones leading to the donjon window.
+When I was high enough I gazed in, my chin about
+even with the sill. And there I saw the prettiest
+girl I ever beheld, gazing down at a book tranquilly,
+as though gentlemanly rescuers were common
+as toads around that tower. She wore something
+soft and golden; her hair was night-black,
+and her eyes were that peculiar shade of gray that&mdash;but
+what's the use?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon,&rdquo; I said, holding on with my right
+hand, lifting my hat with my left. &ldquo;Pardon, am
+I addressing Miss Annie Hobson?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are not,&rdquo; she replied, only half looking up.
+&ldquo;You are addressing Miss Anita Hobson. Calling
+me Annie is another little habit father ought to
+break himself of.&rdquo; She went on reading.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is that a very interesting book?&rdquo; I asked,
+because I didn't like to go without saying something
+more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It isn't!&rdquo; She arose suddenly and hurled the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+book into a corner. &ldquo;It's Anthony Hope&mdash;and if
+there's anything I hate it's him. Father always
+gives me <i>Prisoner of Zenda</i> and <i>Ivanhoe</i> to read
+when he locks me into this donjon. Says I ought
+to read up on the situation. Do you think so?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There are some other books in the library,&rdquo; I
+suggested. &ldquo;Bernard Shaw and Kipling, you
+know. I'll run over and get you one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's fine&mdash;but no!&rdquo; she besought, reaching
+out her hand to detain me. &ldquo;No, don't go! If you
+went away you'd never come back. They never
+do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who never do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The young men. The very instant father sees
+one coming he pops me in the tower and turns the
+key. You see,&rdquo; she explained, &ldquo;when I was in
+Italy I was engaged to a duke&mdash;he was a silly little
+thing and I was glad when he turned out bogus.
+But father took the deception awfully to heart and
+swore I should never be married for my money.
+Yet I don't see what else a young girl can expect,&rdquo;
+she added quite simply.</p>
+
+<p>I could have mentioned several hundred things.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He has no right!&rdquo; I said sternly. &ldquo;It's barbarous
+for him to treat a girl that way&mdash;especially
+his daughter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Dad's a good sort. But
+you can't measure him by other people's standards.
+And yet&mdash;oh, it's maddening, this life!
+Day after day&mdash;loneliness. Nothing but stone
+walls and rusty armor and books. We're rich, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
+what do we get out of it? I have nobody of my
+own age to talk to. How the years are passing!
+After a while&mdash;I'll be&mdash;an old maid. I'm twenty-one
+now!&rdquo; I heard a sob. Her pretty head was
+bowed in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Desperately I seized the bars of the window and
+miraculously they parted. I leaned across the sill
+and drew her hands gently down.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Listen to me,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;If I break in and steal
+you away from this, will you go?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go?&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My aunt lives at Seven Oaks, less than an
+hour from here by train. You can stay there till
+your father comes to his reason.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It's quite like father <i>never</i> to come to his reason,&rdquo;
+she reflected. &ldquo;Then I should have to be
+self-supporting. Of course, I should appreciate
+employment in a candy shop&mdash;I think I know all
+the principal kinds.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you go?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she replied simply, &ldquo;I'll go. But how
+can I get away from here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To-night,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;is Christmas Eve, when
+Pierrepont the Ghost is supposed to walk along
+the wall&mdash;right under this window. You don't
+believe that fairy story, do you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Neither do I. But can't you see? The haunted
+wall begins at my window on one end of the castle
+and ends at your window on the other. The bars
+of your cell, I see, are nearly all loose.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she laughed, &ldquo;I pried them out with a
+pair of scissors.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I could hear Hobson's voice across the court
+giving orders to servants.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your father's coming. Remember to-night,&rdquo;
+I whispered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Midnight,&rdquo; she said softly, smiling out at me.
+I could have faced flocks and flocks of dragons for
+her at that moment. The old man was coming
+nearer. I swung to the ground and escaped into a
+ruined court.</p>
+
+<p>Well, the hours that followed were anxious and
+busy for me. I worked in the glamour of romance
+like a soldier about to do some particularly brave
+and foolish thing. From the window of my room
+I looked down on the narrow, giddy wall below.
+It <i>was</i> a brave and foolish thing. Among the
+rubbish in an old armory I found a coil of stout
+rope, forty or fifty feet of it. This I smuggled
+away. From a remote hall I borrowed a Crusader's
+helmet and spent the balance of the afternoon in
+my room practicing with a sheet across my shoulders,
+shroud-fashion.</p>
+
+<p>We dined grandly at eight, the old man and I.
+He drank thirstily and chatted about the ghost, as
+you might discuss the chances in a coming athletic
+event. After what seemed an age he looked at his
+watch and cried: &ldquo;Whillikens! Eleven o'clock
+already! Well, I'll be going up to watch from the
+haunted room. I think, Jeff, that you'll bring me
+luck to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am sure I shall!&rdquo; I answered sardonically, as
+he departed.</p>
+
+<p>Three quarters of an hour later, wearing the
+Crusader's helmet and swathed in a bedsheet, I
+let myself down from the window to the haunted
+wall below. It was moonlight, bitter cold as I
+crouched on the wall, waiting for the stroke of
+twelve, when I should act the spook and walk
+along that precarious ledge to rescue Anita.</p>
+
+<p>The &ldquo;haunted wall,&rdquo; I observed from where I
+stood, was shaped like an irregular crescent, being
+in plain view of Hobson's &ldquo;haunted room&rdquo; at the
+middle, but not so at its north and south ends,
+where my chamber and Anita's tower were respectively
+situated. I pulled out my watch from under
+my winding-sheet. Three minutes of twelve. I
+drew down the vizor of my helmet and gathered up
+my cerements preparatory to walking the hundred
+feet of wall which would bring me in sight of the
+haunted room where old Hobson kept his vigil.
+Two minutes, one minute I waited, when&mdash;I
+suddenly realized I was not alone.</p>
+
+<p>A man wearing a long cloak and a feather in his
+cap was coming toward me along the moonlit
+masonry. Aha! So I was not the only masquerading
+swain calling on the captive princess in the
+prison tower. A jealous pang shot through me as
+I realized this.</p>
+
+<p>The man was within twenty feet of me, when I
+noticed something. He was not walking on the
+wall. <i>He was walking on air, three or four feet above
+the wall.</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> Nearer and nearer came the man&mdash;the
+Thing&mdash;now into the light of the moon, whose
+beams seemed to strike through his misty tissue
+like the thrust of a sword. I was horribly scared.
+My knees loosened under me, and I clutched the
+vines at my back to save me from falling into the
+moat below. Now I could see his face, and somehow
+fear seemed to leave me. His expression was
+so young and human.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ghost of the Pierrepont,&rdquo; I thought, &ldquo;whether
+you walk in shadow or in light, you lived among a
+race of Men!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His noble, pallid face seemed to burn with its
+own pale light, but his eyes were in darkness. He
+was now within two yards of me. I could see the
+dagger at his belt. I could see the gory cut on his
+forehead. I attempted to speak, but my voice
+creaked like a rusty hinge. He neither heeded nor
+saw me; and when he came to the spot where I
+stood, he did not turn out for me. He walked
+<i>through</i> me! And when next I saw him he was a
+few feet beyond me, standing in mid-air over the
+moat and gazing up at the high towers like one
+revisiting old scenes. Again he floated toward me
+and poised on the wall four feet from where I stood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you here to-night?&rdquo; suddenly spoke,
+or seemed to speak, a voice that was like the echo
+of a silence.</p>
+
+<p>No answer came from my frozen tongue. Yet I
+would gladly have spoken, because somehow I felt
+a great sympathy for this boyish spirit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It has been many earth-years,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;since
+I have walked these towers. And ah, cousin, it
+has been many miles that I have been called to-night
+to answer the summons of my race. And this
+fortress&mdash;what power has moved it overseas to this
+mad kingdom? Magic!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes seemed suddenly to blaze through the
+shadows.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cousin,&rdquo; he again spoke, &ldquo;it is to you that I
+come from my far-off English tomb. It was your
+need called me. It is no pious deed brings you to
+this wall to-night. You are planning to pillage
+these towers unworthily, even as I did yesterday.
+Death was my portion, and broken hearts to the
+father I wronged and the girl I sought.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But it is the father wrongs the girl here,&rdquo; I
+heard myself saying.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He who rules these towers to-day is of stern
+mind but loving heart,&rdquo; said the ghost. &ldquo;Patience.
+By the Star that redeems the world, love
+should not be won <i>to-night</i> by stealth, but by&mdash;love.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He raised his hands toward the tower, his countenance
+radiant with an undying passion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>She</i> called to me and died,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and her
+little ghost comes not to earth again for any winter
+moon or any summer wind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you&mdash;you come often?&rdquo; my voice was
+saying.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the ghost, &ldquo;only on Christmas Eve.
+Yule is the tide of specters; for then the thoughts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
+of the world are so beautiful that they enter our
+dreams and call us back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He turned to go, and a boyish, friendly smile
+rested a moment on his pale face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Farewell, Sir Geoffray de Pierrepont,&rdquo; he
+called to me.</p>
+
+<p>Into the misty moonlight the ghost floated to
+that portion of the wall directly opposite the
+haunted room. From where I stood I could not
+see this chamber. After a moment I shook my
+numb senses to life. My first instinct was one of
+strong human curiosity, which impelled me to follow
+far enough to see the effect of the apparition on
+old Hobson, who must be watching at the window.</p>
+
+<p>I tiptoed a hundred feet along the wall and
+peered around a turret up to a room above, where
+Hobson's head could easily be seen in a patch of
+light. The ghost, at that moment, was walking
+just below, and the effect on the old man, appalling
+though it was, was ludicrous as well. He was
+leaning far out of the window, his mouth wide
+open; and the entire disk of his fat, hairless head
+was as pallid as the moon itself. The specter, who
+was now rounding the curve of the wall near the
+tower, swerved suddenly, and as suddenly seemed
+to totter headlong into the abyss below. As he
+dropped, a wild laugh broke through the frosty air.
+It wasn't from the ghost. It came from above&mdash;yes,
+it emanated from Thaddeus Hobson, who had,
+apparently, fallen back, leaving the window empty.
+Lights began breaking out all over the castle. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+another moment I should be caught in my foolish
+disguise. With the courage of a coward, I turned
+and ran full tilt along the dizzy ledge and back to
+my window, where I lost no seconds scrambling up
+the rope that led to my room.</p>
+
+<p>With all possible haste I threw aside my sheet
+and helmet and started downstairs. I had just
+wrestled with a ghost; I would now have it out
+with the old man. The castle seemed ablaze below.
+I saw the flash of a light skirt in the picture gallery,
+and Anita, pale as the vision I had so lately beheld,
+came running toward me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Father&mdash;saw it!&rdquo; she panted. &ldquo;He had some
+sort of sinking spell&mdash;he's better now&mdash;isn't it
+awful!&rdquo; She clung to me, sobbing hysterically.</p>
+
+<p>Before I realized what I had done, I was holding
+her close in my arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don't!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;It was a good ghost&mdash;he
+had a finer spirit than mine. He came to-night
+for you, dear, and for me. It was a foolish thing
+we planned.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, but I wanted, I wanted to go!&rdquo; she sobbed
+now crying frankly on my shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You <i>are</i> going with me,&rdquo; I said fiercely, raising
+her head. &ldquo;But not over any ghost-ridden breakneck
+wall. We're going this time through the big
+front door of this old castle, American fashion, and
+there'll be an automobile waiting outside and a
+parson at the other end of the line.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We found Thaddeus Hobson alone, in the vast
+hall looking blankly at the fire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jeff,&rdquo; he said solemnly, &ldquo;you sure brought me
+luck to-night if you can call it such being scared
+into a human icicle. Br-r-r! Shall I ever get the
+cold out of my backbone? But somehow, somehow
+that foggy feller outside sort of changed my
+look on things. It made me feel <i>kinder</i> toward
+living folks. Ain't it strange!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Hobson,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;I think the ghost has
+made us <i>all</i> see things differently. In a word, sir,
+I have a confession to make&mdash;if you don't mind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And I told him briefly of my accidental meeting
+with Anita in the donjon, of the practical joke we
+planned, of our sudden meeting with the <i>real</i> ghost
+on the ramparts. Mr. Hobson listened, his face
+growing redder and redder. At the finish of my
+story he suddenly leaped to his feet and brought
+his fist down on the table with a bang.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you little devils!&rdquo; he said admiringly,
+and burst into loud laughter. &ldquo;You're a spunky
+lad, Jeff. And there ain't any doubt that the de
+Pierreponts are as good stuff as you can get in the
+ancestry business. The Christmas supper is spread
+in the banquet hall. Come, de Pierrepont, will you
+sup with the old Earl?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>The huge oaken banquet hall, lined with rich
+hangings, shrunk us to dwarfs by its vastness.
+Golden goblets were at each place. A butler,
+dressed in antique livery, threw a red cloak over
+Hobson's fat shoulders. It was a whim of the old
+man's.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As we took our places, I noticed the table was
+set for four.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whose is the extra place?&rdquo; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>The old man at first made no reply. At last he
+turned to me earnestly and said: &ldquo;Do you believe
+in ghosts?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; I replied. &ldquo;Yet how else can I explain
+that vision I saw on the ramparts?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is the fourth place for him?&rdquo; Anita almost
+whispered.</p>
+
+<p>The old man nodded mutely and raised a golden
+goblet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To the Transplanted Ghost!&rdquo; I said. It was
+an empty goblet that I touched to my lips.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_LAST_GHOST_IN_HARMONY" id="THE_LAST_GHOST_IN_HARMONY"></a>THE LAST GHOST IN HARMONY</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> NELSON LLOYD</h4>
+
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>Scribner's Magazine</i>. Copyright, 1907, by Charles
+Scribner's Sons. By permission of the publishers and Nelson
+Lloyd.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Last Ghost in Harmony</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> NELSON LLOYD</h4>
+
+
+<p>From his perch on the blacksmith's anvil he
+spoke between the puffs of his post-prandial pipe.
+The fire in the forge was out and the day was going
+slowly, through the open door of the shop and the
+narrow windows, westward to the mountains. In
+the advancing shadow, on the pile of broken wheels
+on the work-bench, on keg and barrel, they sat
+puffing their post-prandial pipes and listening.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>For a partner in business I want a truthful man,
+but for a companion give me one with imagination.
+To my mind imagination is the spice of life. There
+is nothing so uninteresting as a fact, for when you
+know it that is the end of it. When life becomes
+nothing but facts it won't be worth living; yet in
+a few years the race will have no imagination left.
+It is being educated out. Look at the children.
+When I was young the bogey man was as real to
+me as pa and nearly as much to be feared of, but
+just yesterday I was lectured for merely mentioning
+him to my neffy. So with ghosts. We was
+taught to believe in ghosts the same as we was in
+Adam or Noar. Nowadays nobody believes in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
+them. It is unscientific, and if you are superstitious
+you are considered ignorant and laughed at.
+Ghosts are the product of the imagination, but if I
+imagine I see one he is as real to me as if he actually
+exists, isn't he? Therefore he does exist. That's
+logic. You fellows have become scientific and
+admits only what you see and feel, and don't depend
+on your imagination for anything. Such
+being the case, I myself admit that the sperrits no
+longer ha'nt the burying-ground or play around
+your houses. I admit it because the same condition
+exact existed in Harmony when I was there,
+and because of what was told me by Robert J.
+Dinkle about two years after he died, and because
+of what occurred between me and him and the
+Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail.</p>
+
+<p>Harmony was a highly intellectual town. About
+the last man there with any imagination or interesting
+ideas, excepting me, of course, was
+Robert J. Dinkle. Yet he had an awful reputation,
+and when he died it was generally stated privately
+that the last landmark of ignorance and superstition
+had been providentially removed. You know
+he had always been seeing things, but we set it
+down to his fondness for hard cider or his natural
+prepensity for joshing. With him gone there was
+no one left to report the doings of the sperrit-world.
+In fact, so widespread was the light of
+reason, as the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail called it, that
+the burying-ground became a popular place for
+moonlight strolls. Even I walked through it frequent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+on my way home from Miss Wheedle's, with
+whom I was keeping company, and it never
+occurred to me to go any faster there, or to look
+back over my shoulder, for I didn't believe in such
+foolishness. But to the most intellectual there
+comes times of doubt about things they know
+nothing of nor understand. Such a time come to
+me, when the wind was more mournfuller than
+usual in the trees, and the clouds scudded along
+overhead, casting peculiar shadders. My imagination
+got the best of my intellect. I hurried. I
+looked back over my shoulder. I shivered, kind of.
+Natural I see nothing in the burying-ground, yet
+at the end of town I was still uneasy-like, though
+half laughing at myself. It was so quiet; not a
+light burned anywhere, and the square seemed
+lonelier than the cemetery, and the store was so
+deserted, so ghostly in the moonlight, that I just
+couldn't keep from peering around at it.</p>
+
+<p>Then, from the empty porch, from the empty
+bench&mdash;empty, I swear, for I could see plain, so
+clear was the night&mdash;from absolute nothing come
+as pleasant a voice as ever I hear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; it says.</p>
+
+<p>My blood turned icy-like and the chills waved
+up and down all through me. I couldn't move.</p>
+
+<p>The voice came again, so natural, so familiar,
+that I warmed some, and rubbed my eyes and
+stared.</p>
+
+<p>There, sitting on the bench, in his favorite place,
+was the late Robert J. Dinkle, gleaming in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
+moonlight, the front door showing right through
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must appear pretty distinct,&rdquo; he says in a
+proud-like way. &ldquo;Can't you see me very plain?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>See him plain! I should think so. Even the
+patches on his coat was visible, and only for the
+building behind him, he never looked more natural,
+and hearing him so pleasant, set me thinking.
+This, says I, is the sperrit of the late Robert J.
+Dinkle. In life he never did me any harm and in
+his present misty condition is likely to do less; if
+he is looking for trouble I'm not afraid of a bit
+of fog. Such being the case, I says, I shall address
+him as soon as I am able.</p>
+
+<p>But Robert got tired waiting, and spoke again
+in an anxious tone, a little louder, and ruther complaining,
+&ldquo;Don't I show up good?&rdquo; says he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I never see you looking better,&rdquo; I answered,
+for my voice had came back, and the chills were
+quieter, and I was fairly ca'm and dared even to
+move a little nearer.</p>
+
+<p>A bright smile showed on his pale face. &ldquo;It is a
+relief to be seen at last,&rdquo; he cried, most cheerful.
+&ldquo;For years I've been trying to do a little ha'nting
+around here, and no one would notice me. I used
+to think mebbe my material was too delicate and
+gauzy, but I've conceded that, after all, the stuff is
+not to blame.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He heaved a sigh so natural that I forgot all
+about his being a ghost. Indeed, taken all in all, I
+see that he had improved, was solemner, had a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+sweeter expression and wasn't likely to give in to
+his old prepensity for joshing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Set down and we will talk it over,&rdquo; he went on
+most winning. &ldquo;Really, I can't do any harm, but
+please be a little afraid and then I will show up
+distincter. I must be getting dim now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are,&rdquo; says I, for though I was on the porch
+edging nearer him most bold, I could hardly see
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Without any warning he gave an awful groan
+that brought the chills waving back most violent.
+I jumped and stared, and as I stared he stood out
+plainer and solider in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's better,&rdquo; he said with a jolly chuckle;
+&ldquo;now you do believe in me, don't you? Well, set
+there nervous-like, on the edge of the bench and
+don't be too ca'm-like, or I'll disappear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The ghost's orders were followed explicit. But
+with him setting there so natural and pleasant it
+was hard to be frightened and more than once I
+forgot. He, seeing me peering like my eyesight
+was bad, would give a groan that made my blood
+curdle. Up he would flare again, gleaming in the
+moonlight full and strong.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Harmony's getting too scientific, too intellectual,&rdquo;
+he said, speaking very melancholic. &ldquo;What
+can't be explained by arithmetic or geography is
+put down as impossible. Even the preachers encourage
+such idees and talk about Adam and Eve
+being allegories. As a result, the graveyard has
+become the slowest place in town. You simply<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+can't ha'nt anything around here. A man hears a
+groan in his room and he gets up and closes the
+shutters tighter, or throws a shoe at a rat, or swears
+at the wind in the chimney. A few sperrits were
+hanging around when I was first dead, but they
+were complaining very bad about the hard times.
+There used to be plenty of good society in the burying-ground,
+they said, but one by one they had to
+quit. All the old Berrys had left. Mr. Whoople
+retired when he was taken for a white mule. Mrs.
+Morris A. Klump, who once oppyrated 'round the
+deserted house beyond the mill had gave up in
+disgust just a week before my arrival. I tried to
+encourage the few remaining, explained how the
+sperritualists were working down the valley and
+would strike town any time, but they had lost all
+hope&mdash;kept fading away till only me was left. If
+things don't turn for the better soon I must go,
+too. It's awful discouraging. And lonely! Why
+folks ramble around the graves like even I wasn't
+there. Just last night my boy Ossy came strolling
+along with the lady he is keeping company with,
+and where do you s'pose they set down to rest, and
+look at the moon and talk about the silliest subjecks?
+Right on my headstone! I stood in front
+of them and did the ghostliest things till I was clean
+tired out and discouraged. They just would not
+pay the least attention.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The poor old ghost almost broke down and
+cried. Never in life had I known him so much
+affected, and it went right to my heart to see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+him wiping his eyes with his handkercher and
+snuffling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mebbe you don't make enough noise when you
+ha'nt,&rdquo; says I most sympathetic.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do all the regular acts,&rdquo; says he, a bit het up
+by my remark. &ldquo;We always were kind of limited.
+I float around and groan, and talk foolish, and
+sometimes I pull off bedclothes or reveal the hiding-place
+of buried treasure. But what good does it do
+in a town so intellectual as Harmony?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I have seen many folks who were down on their
+luck, but never one who so appealed to me as the
+late Robert J. Dinkle. It was the way he spoke,
+the way he looked, his general patheticness, his
+very helplessness, and deservingness. In life I had
+known him well, and as he was now I liked him
+better. So I did want to do something for him.
+We sat studying for a long time, him smoking very
+violent, blowing clouds of fog outen his pipe, me
+thinking up some way to help him. And idees
+allus comes to them who sets and waits.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The trouble is partly as you say, Robert,&rdquo; I
+allowed after a bit, &ldquo;and again partly because you
+can't make enough noise to awaken the slumbering
+imagination of intellectual Harmony. With a little
+natural help from me though, you might stir things
+up in this town.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>You never saw a gladder smile or a more gratefuller
+look than that poor sperrit gave me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; he says, &ldquo;with your help I could do
+wonders. Now who'll we begin on?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;has about
+all the imagination left in Harmony&mdash;of course
+excepting me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Robert's face fell visible. &ldquo;I have tried him
+repeated and often,&rdquo; he says, kind of argumentative-like.
+&ldquo;All the sign he made was to complain
+that his wife talked in her sleep.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I wasn't going to argue&mdash;not me. I was all for
+action, and lost no time in starting. Robert J., he
+followed me like a dog, up through town to our
+house, where I went in, leaving him outside so as
+not to disturb mother. There I got me a hammer
+and nails with the heavy lead sinker offen my fishnet,
+and it wasn't long before the finest tick-tack
+you ever saw was working against the Spiegelnails'
+parlor window, with me in a lilac-bush operating
+the string that kept the weight a-swinging. Before
+the house was an open spot where the moon shone
+full and clear, where Robert J. walked up and
+down, about two feet off the ground, waving his
+arms slow-like and making the melancholiest
+groans. Now I have been to <i>Uncle Tom's Cabin</i>
+frequent, but in all my life I never see such acting.
+Yet what was the consequences? Up went the
+window above, and the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail
+showed out plain in the moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who is there?&rdquo; he called very stern. You had
+otter see Robert then. It was like tonic to him.
+He rose up higher and began to beat his arms most
+violent and to gurgle tremendous. But the
+preacher never budged.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You boys otter be ashamed of yourselves,&rdquo;
+he says in a severe voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Louder, louder,&rdquo; I calls to Robert J., in answering
+which he began the most awful contortions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can hear me perfectly plain,&rdquo; says the
+dominie, now kind of sad-like. &ldquo;It fills my old
+heart with sorrow to see that yous all have gone
+so far astray.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hearing that, so calm, so distinct, so defiant,
+made Robert J. stop short and stare. To remind
+him I gave the weight an extra thump, and it was
+so loud as to bring forth Mrs. Spiegelnail, her head
+showing plain as she peered out over the preacher's
+shoulder. The poor discouraged ghost took heart,
+striking his tragicest attitude, one which he told
+me afterwards was his pride and had been got out
+of a book. But what was the result?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Does you hear anyone in the bushes, dear?&rdquo;
+inquires Mr. Spiegelnail, cocking his ears and
+listening.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must be Ossy Dinkle and them bad friends
+of his,&rdquo; says she, in her sour tone.</p>
+
+<p>Poor Robert! Hearing that, he about gave up
+hope.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don't I show up good?&rdquo; he asks in an anxious
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can see you distinct,&rdquo; says I, very sharp.
+&ldquo;You never looked better.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Down went the window&mdash;so sudden, so unexpected
+that I did not know what to make of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
+Robert J. thought he did, and over me he came
+floating, most delighted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must have worked,&rdquo; he said, laughing like
+he'd die, a-doubling up and holding his sides to
+keep from splitting. &ldquo;At last I have showed up
+distinct; at last I am of some use in the world.
+You don't realize what a pleasure it is to know
+that you are fulfilling your mission and living up
+to your reputation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Poor old ghost! He was for talking it all over
+then and there and settled down on a soft bunch of
+lilacs, and fell to smoking fog and chattering. It
+did me good to see him so happy and I was inclined
+to puff up a bit at my own success in the ha'nting
+line. But it was not for long. The rattle of keys
+warned us. The front door flew open and out
+bounded the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail, clearing the
+steps with a jump, and flying over the lawn. All
+thought of the late Robert J. Dinkle left me then,
+for I had only a few feet start of my pastor. You
+see I shouldn't a-hurried so only I sung bass in the
+choir and I doubt if I could have convinced him
+that I was working in the interests of Science and
+Truth. Fleeing was instinct. Gates didn't matter.
+They were took on the wing, and down the street
+I went with the preacher's hot breath on my neck.
+But I beat him. He tired after the first spurt
+and was soon left behind, so I could double back
+home to bed.</p>
+
+<p>Robert, he was for giving up entirely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I simply won't work,&rdquo; says he to me, when I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
+met him on the store porch that next night. &ldquo;A
+hundred years ago such a bit of ha'nting would
+have caused the town to be abandoned; to-day it is
+attributed to natural causes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;we left behind such evidences
+of material manifestations as strings and
+weights on the parlor window.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;S'pose we work right in the house?&rdquo; says he,
+brightening up. &ldquo;You can hide in the closet and
+groan while I act.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now did you ever hear anything innocenter than
+that? Yet he meant it so well I did not even laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'm too fond of my pastor,&rdquo; I says, &ldquo;to let him
+catch me in his closet. A far better spot for our
+work is the short cut he takes home from church
+after Wednesday evening meeting. We won't be
+so loud, but more dignified, melancholier, and
+tragic. You overacted last night, Robert,&rdquo; I says.
+&ldquo;Next time pace up and down like you were deep
+in thought and sigh gentle. Then if he should see
+you it would be nice to take his arm and walk
+home with him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I think I had the right idea of ha'nting, and had
+I been able to keep up Robert J. Dinkle's sperrits
+and to train him regular I could have aroused the
+slumbering imagination of Harmony, and brought
+life to the burying-ground. But he was too easy
+discouraged. He lacked perseverance. For if ever
+Mr. Spiegelnail was on the point of seeing things
+it was that night as he stepped out of the woods.
+He had walked slow and meditating till he come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
+opposite where I was. Now I didn't howl or groan
+or say anything particular. What I did was to
+make a noise that wasn't animal, neither was it
+human, nor was it regulation ghostly. As I had
+stated to the late Robert J. Dinkle, what was
+needed for ha'nting was something new and original.
+And it certainly ketched Mr. Spiegelnail's
+attention. I see him stop. I see his lantern shake.
+It appeared like he was going to dive into the
+bushes for me, but he changed his mind. On he
+went, quicker, kind as if he wasn't afraid, yet was,
+on to the open, where the moon brought out Robert
+beautiful as he paced slowly up and down, his head
+bowed like he was studying. Still the preacher
+never saw him, stepped right through him, in fact.
+I give the dreadful sound again. That stopped
+him. He turned, raised the lantern before him, put
+his hand to his ear, and seemed to be looking intense
+and listening. Hardly ten feet away stood
+Robert, all a-trembling with excitement, but the
+light that showed through him was as steady as a
+rock, as the dominie watched and listened, so quiet
+and ca'm. He lowered the lantern, rubbed his
+hands across his eyes, stepped forward and looked
+again. The ghost was perfect. As I have stated,
+he was excited and his sigh shook a little, but he
+was full of dignity and sadity. He shouldn't have
+lost heart so soon. I was sure then that he almost
+showed up plain to the preacher and he would have
+grown on Mr. Spiegelnail had he kept on ha'nting
+him instead of giving in because that one night the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+pastor walked on to the house fairly cool. He did
+walk quicker, I know, and he did peer over his
+shoulder twicet and I did hear the kitchen door
+bang in a relieved way. But when we consider the
+stuff that ghosts are made of we hadn't otter expect
+them to be heroes. They are too foggy and
+gauzy to have much perseverance&mdash;judging at
+least from Robert J.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I simply can't work any more,&rdquo; says he, when
+I came up to him, as he sat there in the path, his
+elbows on his knees, his head on his hands, his eyes
+studying the ground most mournful.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But Robert&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; I began, thinking to cheer
+him up.</p>
+
+<p>He didn't hear; he wouldn't listen&mdash;just faded
+away.</p>
+
+<p>Had he only held out there is no telling what he
+might have done in his line. Often, since then,
+have I thought of him and figgered on his tremendous
+possibilities. That he had possibilities I am
+sure. Had I only realized it that last night we
+went out ha'nting, he never would have got away
+from me. But the realization came too late. It
+came in church the very next Sunday, with the
+usual announcements after the long prayer, as Mr.
+Spiegelnail was leaning over the pulpit eying the
+congregation through big smoked glasses.</p>
+
+<p>Says he in a voice that was full of sadness: &ldquo;I
+regret to announce that for the first time in twenty
+years union services will be held in this town next
+Sabbath.&rdquo; Setting in the choir, reading my music<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
+marks, I heard the preacher's words and started,
+for I saw at once that something unusual was
+happening, or had happened, or was about to
+happen. &ldquo;Unfortunately,&rdquo; said Mr. Spiegelnail,
+continuing, &ldquo;I shall have to turn my pulpit over
+to Brother Spiker of the Baptist Church, for my
+failing eyesight renders it necessary that I go at
+once to Philadelphia, to consult an oculist. Some
+of my dear brethren may think this an unusual
+step, but I should not desert them without cause.
+They may think, perhaps, that I am making much
+ado about nothing and could be treated just as
+well in Harrisburg. To such let me explain that I
+am suffering from astigmatism. It is not so much
+that I cannot see, but that I sees things which I
+know are not there&mdash;a defect in sight which I feel
+needs the most expert attention. Sunday-school
+at half-past nine; divine service at eleven. I take
+for my text 'And the old men shall see visions.'&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>How I did wish the late Robert J. Dinkle could
+have been in church that morning. It would have
+so gladdened his heart to hear that he had partly
+worked, for if he worked partly, then surely, in
+time, he would have worked complete. For me, I
+was just wild with excitement, and was so busy
+thinking of him and how glad he would be, that I
+didn't hear the sermon at all, and in planning new
+ways of ha'nting I forgot to sing in the last anthem.
+You see, I figgered lively times ahead for Harmony&mdash;a
+general return to the good old times when folks
+had imagination and had something more in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+heads than facts. I had only to get Robert again,
+and with him working it would not be long till all
+the old Berrys and Mrs. Klump showed up distinct
+and plain. But I wasn't well posted in the weak
+characters of shades, for I thought, of course, I
+could find my sperrit friend easy when night came.
+Yet I didn't. I set on the store porch shivering till
+the moon was high up over the ridge. He just
+wouldn't come. I called for him soft-like and got
+no answer. Down to the burying-ground I went
+and set on his headstone. It was the quietest place
+you ever see. The clouds was scudding overhead;
+the wind was sighing among the leaves; and
+through the trees the moon was gleaming so clear
+and distinct you could almost read the monnyments.
+It was just a night when things should
+have been lively there&mdash;a perfect night for ha'nting.
+I called for Robert. I listened. He never
+answered. I heard only a bull-frog a-bellering in
+the pond, a whippoor-will whistling in the grove,
+and a dog howling at the moon.</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244"></a></span>
+<h3><a name="THE_GHOST_OF_MISER_BRIMPSON" id="THE_GHOST_OF_MISER_BRIMPSON"></a>THE GHOST OF MISER BRIMPSON</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> EDEN PHILLPOTTS</h4>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p>
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>Tales of the Tenements</i>, by Eden Phillpotts. Published
+in America by John Lane Company, and in England by
+John Murray. By permission of the publishers and Eden
+Phillpotts.</p></div>
+
+
+<h2>The Ghost of Miser Brimpson</h2>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> EDEN PHILLPOTTS</h4>
+
+
+<h3>I</h3>
+
+<p>Penniless and proud he was; and that pair
+don't draw a man to pleasant places when they
+be in double harness. There's only one thing can
+stop 'em if they take the bit between their teeth,
+and that's a woman. So there, you might say, lies
+the text of the tale of Jonathan Drake, of Dunnabridge
+Farm, a tenement in the Forest of Dartymoor.
+'Twas Naboth's vineyard to Duchy, and
+the greedy thing would have given a very fair price
+for it, without a doubt; but the Drake folk held
+their land, and wouldn't part with it, and boasted
+a freehold of fifty acres in the very midst of the
+Forest. They did well, too, and moved with the
+times, and kept their heads high for more generations
+than I can call home; and then they comed to
+what all families, whether gentle or simple, always
+come to soon or late. And that's a black sheep for
+bell-wether. Bad uns there'll be in every generation
+of a race; but the trouble begins when a bad
+un chances to be up top; and if the head of the
+family is a drunkard, or a spendthrift, or built on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+too free and flowing a pattern for this work-a-day
+shop, then the next generation may look out for
+squalls, as the sailor-men say.</p>
+
+<p>'Twas Jonathan's grandfather that did the harm
+at Dunnabridge. He had sport in his blood, on
+his mother's side, and 'twas horses ran him into
+trouble. He backed 'em, and was ruined; and then
+his son bred 'em, and didn't do very much better.
+So, when the pair of 'em dropped out of the hunt,
+and died with their backs to the wall, one after
+t'other, it looked as if the game was up for them to
+follow. By good chance, however, Tom Drake had
+but one child&mdash;a boy&mdash;the Jonathan as I be telling
+about; and when his father and grandfather passed
+away, within a year of each other, Dunnabridge
+was left to Tom's widow and her son, him then
+being twenty-two. She was for selling Dunnabridge
+and getting away from Dartymoor, because
+the place had used her bad, and she hated the
+sight of it; but Jonathan, a proud chap even then,
+got the lawyers to look into the matter, and they
+told him that 'twasn't vital for Dunnabridge to be
+sold, though it might ease his pocket, and smooth
+his future to do so, 'specially as Duchy wanted the
+place rather bad, and had offered the value of it.
+And Jonathan's mother was on the side of Duchy,
+too, and went on her knees to the man to sell; but
+he wouldn't. He had a bee in his bonnet sometimes,
+and he said that all the Drakes would rise
+out of their graves to Widecombe churchyard, and
+haunt his rising up and going down if he were to do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
+such a thing, just to suit his own convenience, and
+be rid of the place. So he made a plan with the
+creditors. It figured out that his father and grandfather
+had owed near a thousand pound between
+them; and Jonathan actually set himself to pay it
+off to the last penny. 'Twas the labor of years;
+but by the time he was thirty-three he done it&mdash;at
+what cost of scrimping and screwing, only his
+mother might have told. She never did tell, however,
+for she died two year before the last item was
+paid. Some went as far as to declare that 'twas
+her son's miserly ways hurried her into her grave;
+and, for all I know, they may have done so, for 'tis
+certain, in her husband's life, she had a better time.
+Tom was the large-hearted, juicy, easy sort, as
+liked meat on the table, and plenty to wash it
+down; and he loved Mercy Jane Drake very well;
+and, when he died, the only thought that troubled
+him was leaving her; and the last thing he advised
+his son was to sell Dunnabridge, and take his
+mother off the Moor down to the &ldquo;in country&rdquo;
+where she'd come from.</p>
+
+<p>But Jonathan was made of different stuff, and
+'twas rumored by old people that had known the
+family for several generations that he favored an
+ancient forefather by name of Brimpson Drake.
+This bygone man was a miser and the richest of
+the race. He'd lived in the days when we were at
+war with France and America, and when Princetown
+sprang up, and a gert war-prison was built
+there to cage all the chaps we got on our hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
+through winning such a lot o' sea battles. And
+Miser Brimpson was said to have made thousands
+by helping rich fellows to escape from the prison.
+Truth and falsehood mixed made up his story as
+'twas handed down. But one thing appeared to
+be fairly true about it; which was, that when the
+miser died, and Dunnabridge went to his cousin,
+the horseracer, not a penny of his fortune ever came
+into the sight of living men. So some said 'twas all
+nonsense, and he never had no money at all, but
+only pretended to it; and others again, declared
+that he knew too well who'd follow in his shoes at
+Dunnabridge, and hid his money accordingly, so
+that no Drake should have it. For he hated his
+heirs as only a miser can hate 'em.</p>
+
+<p>So things stood when Mercy Jane died and
+Jonathan was left alone. He paid all his relations'
+debts, and he had his trouble and the honor of
+being honorable for his pains. Everybody respected
+him something wonderful; but, all the same,
+a few of his mother's friends always did say that
+'twas a pity he put his dead father's good name
+afore his living mother's life. However, we'm not
+built in the pattern of our fellow-creatures, and 'tis
+only fools that waste time blaming a man for being
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Jonathan went his stern way; and then, in the
+lonely days after his parent was taken, when he
+lived at Dunnabridge, with nought but two hinds
+and a brace of sheep-dogs, 'twas suddenly borne
+in upon his narrow sight that there might be other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
+women still in the world, though his mother had
+gone out of it. And he also discovered, doubtless,
+that a home without a woman therein be merely
+the cruel mockery of what a home should be.</p>
+
+<p>A good few folk watched Jonathan to see what
+he'd do about it, and no doubt a maiden here and
+there was interested too; because, though a terrible
+poor man, he wasn't bad to look at, though rather
+hard about the edge of the jaw, and rather short
+and stern in his manners to human creatures and
+beasts alike.</p>
+
+<p>And then beginned his funny courting&mdash;if you
+can call it courting, where a poor man allows hisself
+the luxury of pride at the wrong time, and
+makes a show of hisself in consequence. At least
+that's my view; but you must know that a good
+few, quite as wise as me, took t'other side, and held
+that Jonathan covered his name with glory when
+he changed his mind about Hyssop Burges. That
+was her bitter name, but a pleasanter girl never
+walked on shoe-leather. She was Farmer Stonewer's
+niece to White Works, and he took her in
+for a charity, and always said that 'twas the best
+day's work as ever he had done. A straight, hardworking,
+cheerful sort of a girl, with nothing to
+name about her very special save a fine shape and
+a proud way of holding her head in the air and
+looking her fellow creatures in the eyes. Proud
+she was for certain, and terrible partickler as to her
+friends; but there happened to be that about Jonathan
+that made flint to her steel. He knowed she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+was penniless, or he'd not have looked at her twice;
+and when, after a short, fierce sort of courting, she
+took him, everybody felt pleased about it but
+Farmer Stonewer, who couldn't abide the thought
+of losing Hyssop, though his wife had warned him
+any time this four year that 'twas bound to happen.</p>
+
+<p>Farmer and the girl were sitting waiting for
+Jonathan one night; and she was a bit nervous,
+and he was trying for to calm her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jonathan must be told,&rdquo; she says. &ldquo;It can't
+go on no longer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then tell him,&rdquo; says her uncle. &ldquo;Good
+powers!&rdquo; he says; &ldquo;to see you, one would think
+the news was the worst as could ever fall between
+a pair o' poor lovers, instead of the best.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know him a lot better than you,&rdquo; she tells
+Farmer; &ldquo;and I know how plaguey difficult he
+can be where money's the matter. He very near
+throwed me over when, in a weak moment, I axed
+him to let me buy my own tokening-ring. Red as
+a turkey's wattles did he flame, and said I'd insulted
+him; and now, when he hears the secret, I
+can't for the life of me guess how he'll take it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Twas a pity you didn't tell him when he
+offered for you,&rdquo; declared Hyssop's aunt. &ldquo;Proud
+he is as a silly peacock, and terrible frightened of
+seeming to look after money, or even casting his
+eye where it bides; but he came to you without any
+notion of the windfall, and he loved you for yourself,
+like an honest man; and you loved him the
+same way; and right well you know that if your old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
+cousin had left you five thousand pound instead of
+five hundred, Jonathan Drake was the right chap
+for you. He can't blame himself, for not a soul on
+Dartymoor but us three has ever heard tell about
+the money.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But he'll blame me for having money at all,&rdquo;
+answered the girl. &ldquo;He said a dozen times afore
+he offered for me, that he'd never look at a woman
+if she'd got more cash than what he had himself.
+That's why I couldn't bring myself to confess to it&mdash;and
+lose him. And, after we was tokened, it got
+to be harder still.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not bide till you'm married, then?&rdquo; asked
+Mrs. Stonewer. &ldquo;Since it have gone so long, let it
+go longer, and surprise him with the news on the
+wedding-night&mdash;eh, James?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; answered Farmer. &ldquo;'Enough is as good
+as a feast.' 'Tis squandering blessings to do that
+at such a time. Keep the news till some rainy
+day, when he's wondering how to get round a tight
+corner. That's the moment to tell him; and that's
+the moment he's least likely to make a face at the
+news.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Hyssop wouldn't put it off no more; she
+said as she'd not have any further peace till the
+murder was out. And that very night, sure enough
+when Jonathan comed over from Dunnabridge for
+his bit of love-making, and the young couple had
+got the farm parlor to themselves, she plumped it
+out, finding him in a very kindly mood. They
+never cuddled much, for he wasn't built that way;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
+but he'd not disdain to sit beside her and put his
+arm around her now and again, when she picked
+up his hand and drew it round. Then, off and on,
+she'd rub her cheek against his mutton-chop
+whiskers, till he had to kiss her in common politeness.</p>
+
+<p>Well, Hyssop got it out&mdash;Lord alone knows how,
+as she said afterwards. She got it out, and told
+him that an old, aged cousin had died, and left
+her a nice little skuat<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> of money; and how she'd
+never touched a penny but let it goody in the bank;
+and how she prayed and hoped 'twould help 'em to
+Dunnabridge; and how, of course, he must have
+the handling of it, being a man, and so cruel clever
+in such things. She went on and on, pretty well
+frightened to stop and hear him. But, after she'd
+said it over about a dozen times, her breath failed
+her, and she shut her mouth, and tried to smile,
+and looked up terrible anxious and pleading at
+Jonathan.</p>
+
+<p>His hard gray eyes bored into her like a brace of
+gimlets, and in return for all her talk he axed but
+one question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How long have you had this here money?&rdquo;
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>She told the truth, faltering and shaking under
+his glare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Four years and upwards, Jonathan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's years and years afore I axed you to
+marry me?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Jonathan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you remember what I said about never
+marrying anybody as had more than what I have?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Jonathan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you full know how many a time I told you
+that, after I paid off all my father's debts, I had
+nought left, and 'twould be years afore I could
+build up anything to call money?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Jonathan.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well, then!&rdquo; he cried out, and his brow
+crooked down and his fists clenched. &ldquo;Very well,
+you've deceived me deliberate, and if you'd do
+that in one thing, you would in another. I'm
+going out of this house this instant moment, and
+you can tell your relations why 'tis. I'm terrible
+sorry, Hyssop Burges, for no man will ever love
+you better than what I did; and so you'd have
+lived to find out when all this here courting tomfoolery
+was over, and you'd come to be my wife.
+But now I'll have none of you, for you've played with
+me. And so&mdash;so I'll bid you good-bye!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He went straight out without more speech; and
+she tottered, weeping, to her uncle and aunt.
+They couldn't believe their senses; and Jimmy
+Stonewer declared thereon that any man who
+could make himself such a masterpiece of a fool
+as Jonathan had done that night, was better out of
+the marriage state than in it. He told Hyssop as
+she'd had a marvelous escape from a prize zany;
+and his wife said the same. But the girl couldn't
+see it like that. She knowed Jonathan weren't a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
+prize zany, and his raging pride didn't anger her,
+for she admired it something wonderful, and it
+only made her feel her loss all the crueller to see
+what a terrible rare, haughty sort of a chap he was.
+There were a lot of other men would have had her,
+and twice as many again, if they'd known about
+the money; but they all seemed as tame as robins
+beside her hawk of a Jonathan. She had plenty of
+devil in her, too, when it came to the fighting
+pitch; and now, while he merely said that the
+match was broken off through a difference of opinion,
+and gave no reason for it, she set to work with
+all her might to get him back again, and used her
+love-sharpened wits so well as she knew how, to
+best him into matrimony.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>In truth she made poor speed. Jonathan was
+always civil afterwards; but you might as soon
+have tried to thaw an iceberg with a box of matches
+as to get him round again by gentleness and affection.
+He was the sort that can't be won with kindness.
+He felt he'd treated the world better than
+the world had treated him, and the thought
+shriveled his heart a bit. Always shy and suspicious,
+you might say; and yet, underneath it, the
+most honorable and upright and high-minded man
+you could wish to meet. Hyssop loved him like
+her life, and she got a bit poorly in health after
+their sad quarrel. Then chance willed it that,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
+going down from Princetown to Plymouth by train&mdash;to
+see a chemist, and get something to make her
+eat&mdash;who should be in the selfsame carriage but
+Mr. Drake and his hind, Thomas Parsons.</p>
+
+<p>There was others there, too; and it fell out that
+an old fellow as knowed Jonathan's grandfather
+before him, brought up the yarn about Miser
+Brimpson, and asked young Drake if he took any
+stock in it.</p>
+
+<p>Of course the man pooh-poohed such foolery,
+and told the old chap not to talk nonsense like
+that in the ear of the nineteenth century; but when
+Jonathan and Parsons had got out of the train&mdash;which
+they did do at Yelverton station&mdash;Hyssop,
+as knowed the old man, axed him to tell more
+about the miser; and he explained, so well as he
+knew how, that Brimpson Drake had made untold
+thousands out of the French and American prisoners,
+and that, without doubt, 'twas all hidden even
+to this day at Dunnabridge.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course Jonathan's too clever to believe such
+a tale&mdash;like his father before him; but his grandfather
+believed it, and the old blid spent half his
+time poking about the farm. Only, unfortunately,
+he didn't have no luck. But 'tis there for sure; and
+if Jonathan had enough faith he'd come by it&mdash;not
+by digging and wasting time and labor, but by
+doing what is right and proper when you'm dealing
+with such matters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what might that be?&rdquo; axed Miss Burges.</p>
+
+<p>Just then, however, the train for Plymouth ran<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+up, and the old man told her that he'd explain
+some other time.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This generation laughs at such things,&rdquo; he
+said; &ldquo;but they laugh best who laugh last, and, for
+all we can say to the contrary, 'tis nought but his
+conceit and pride be standing between that stiff-necked
+youth and the wealth of a bank.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hyssop, she thought a lot upon this; but she
+hadn't no need to go to the old chap again, as she
+meant to do, for when she got home, her uncle&mdash;Farmer
+Stonewer&mdash;knowed all about the matter,
+and told her how 'twas a very rooted opinion
+among the last generation that a miser's spirit
+never could leave its hidden hoard till the stuff was
+brought to light, and in human hands once more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Millions of good money has been found in that
+manner, if all we hear is true,&rdquo; declared Farmer
+Jimmy; &ldquo;and if one miser has been known to walk,
+which nobody can deny, then why shouldn't
+another? Them as believe in such dark things&mdash;and
+I don't say I do, and I don't say I don't&mdash;them
+as know of such mysteries happening in their
+own recollection, or in the memory of their friends,
+would doubtless say that Miser Brimpson still
+creeps around his gold now and again; and if that
+money be within the four corners of Dunnabridge
+Farm, and if Jonathan happed to be on the lookout
+on the rightful night and at the rightful
+moment, 'tis almost any odds but he might see
+his forbear sitting over his money-bags like a hen
+on a clutch of eggs, and so recover the hoard.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But faith's needed for such a deed,&rdquo; Mrs.
+Stonewer told her niece; &ldquo;and that pig-headed
+creature haven't no faith. Too proud, he is, to
+believe in anything he don't understand. 'Twas
+even so with Lucifer afore him. If you told him&mdash;Jonathan&mdash;this
+news, he'd rather let the money
+go than set off ghost-hunting in cold blood. Yet
+there it is: and a humbler-minded fashion of chap,
+with the Lord on his side, and a trustful heart in
+his bosom, might very like recover all them tubs
+of cash the miser come by.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And then he'd have thousands to my poor
+tens,&rdquo; said Hyssop. &ldquo;Not that he'd ever come
+back to me now, I reckon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But, all the same, she knowed by the look in
+Jonathan's eye when they met, that he loved her
+still, and that his silly, proud heart was hungering
+after her yet, though he'd rather have been drawn
+under a harrow than show a spark of what was
+burning there.</p>
+
+<p>And so, upon this nonsense about a buried
+treasure she set to work again to use her brains,
+and see if there might be any road out of the trouble
+by way of Miser Brimpson's ghost.</p>
+
+<p>What she did, none but them as helped her ever
+knew, until the story comed round to me; but
+'twas the cleverest thing that ever I heard of a
+maiden doing, and it worked a wonder. In fact, I
+can't see but a single objection to the plot, though
+that was a serious thing for the girl. It lay in the
+fact that there had to be a secret between Hyssop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
+and her husband; and she kept it close as the grave
+until the grave itself closed over him. Yet 'twas
+an innocent secret, too; and, when all's said, 'tisn't
+a wedded pair in five hundred as haven't each
+their one little cupboard fast locked, with the key
+throwed away.</p>
+
+<p>Six months passed by, and Jonathan worked as
+only he knowed how to work, and tried to forget
+his sad disappointment by dint of toil. Early and
+late he labored, and got permission to reclaim a
+bit of moor for a &ldquo;newtake,&rdquo; and so added a very
+fair three acres to his farm. He noticed about this
+time that his hind, Parsons, did oft drag up the
+subject of Miser Brimpson Drake; and first Jonathan
+laughed, and then he was angered, and bade
+Thomas hold his peace. But, though a very obedient
+and humble sort of man, Parsons would hark
+back to the subject, and tell how his father had
+known a man who was own brother to a miser; and
+how, when the miser died, his own brother had seen
+him clear as truth in the chimley-corner of his
+room three nights after they'd buried him; and
+how they made search, and found, not three feet
+from where the ghost had stood, a place in the wall
+with seventeen golden sovereigns hid in it, and a
+white witch's cure for glanders. Thomas Parsons
+swore on the Book to this; and he said, as a certain
+fact, that New Year's Night was the time most
+misers walked; and he advised Jonathan not to be
+dead to his own interests.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At least, as a thinking man, that believes in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
+religion and the powers of the air, in Bible word,
+you might give it a chance,&rdquo; said Thomas; and
+then Jonathan told him to shut his mouth, and
+not shame Dunnabridge by talking such childish
+nonsense.</p>
+
+<p>The next autumn Jonathan went up beyond
+Exeter to buy some of they black-faced, horned
+Scotch sheep, and he wanted for Parsons to go
+with him; but his man falled ill the night afore,
+and so young Hacker went instead.</p>
+
+<p>Drake reckoned then that Thomas Parsons
+would have to leave, for Dunnabridge weren't a
+place for sick folk; and he'd made up his mind after
+he came back to turn the old chap off; but Thomas
+was better when the master got home, so the question
+of sacking him was let be, and Jonathan contented
+himself by telling Tom that, if he falled ill
+again, 'twould be the last time. And Parsons said
+that was as it should be; but he hoped that at his
+age&mdash;merely sixty-five or thereabout&mdash;he wouldn't
+be troubled with his breathing parts again for half
+a score o' years at least. He added that he'd done
+his work as usual while the master was away; but
+he didn't mention that Hyssop Burges had made
+so bold as to call at Dunnabridge with a pony and
+cart, and that she'd spent a tidy long time there,
+and gone all over the house and farmyard, among
+other places, afore she drove off again.</p>
+
+<p>And the next chapter of the story was told by
+Jonathan himself to his two men on the first day
+of the following year.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was but little light of morning just then,
+and the three of 'em were putting down some
+bread and bacon and a quart of tea by candlelight
+in the Dunnabridge kitchen, when Thomas saw
+that his master weren't eating nothing to name.
+Instead, he went out to the barrel and drawed
+himself a pint of ale, and got along by the peat
+fire with it, and stuck his boots so nigh the scads
+as he dared without burning 'em.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What's amiss?&rdquo; said Thomas. &ldquo;Don't say
+you'm sick, master. And if you be, I lay no liquor
+smaller than brandy will fetch you round.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ban't sick,&rdquo; answered Jonathan shortly.</p>
+
+<p>He seemed in doubt whether to go on. Then he
+resolved to do so.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was a man in the yard last night,&rdquo; he
+said; &ldquo;and, if I thought as either of you chaps
+knowed anything about it, I'd turn you off this
+instant, afore you'd got the bacon out of your
+throats.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A man? Never!&rdquo; cried Parsons.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How was it the dog didn't bark?&rdquo; asked
+Hacker.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How the devil do I know why he didn't bark?&rdquo;
+answered Jonathan, dark as night, and staring in
+the fire. One side of his face was red with the
+flames, and t'other side blue as steel along of the
+daylight just beginning to filter in at the window.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All I can say is this,&rdquo; he added. &ldquo;I turned in
+at half-after ten, just after that brace of old fools
+to Brownberry went off to see the New Year in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
+I slept till midnight; then something woke me with
+a start. What 'twas, I can't tell, but some loud
+sound near at hand, no doubt. I was going off
+again when I heard more row&mdash;a steady sound
+repeated over and over. And first I thought 'twas
+owls; and then I heard 'twas not. You might have
+said 'twas somebody thumping on a barrel; but,
+at any rate, I woke up, and sat up, and found the
+noise was in the yard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I looked out of my chamber window then, and
+the moon was bright as day, and the stars sparkling
+likewise; and there, down by 'the Judge's Table'
+where the thorn-tree grows, I see a man standing
+by the old barrel as plain as I see you chaps now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Judge's Table&rdquo; be a wonnerful curiosity
+at Dunnabridge, and if you go there you'll do well
+to ax to see it. 'Tis a gert slab of moorstone said
+to have come from Crokern Torr, where the tinners
+held theer parliament in the ancient times. Now
+it bides over a water-trough with a white-thorn
+tree rising up above.</p>
+
+<p>Jonathan took his breath when he'd got that
+far, and fetched his pipe out of his pocket and
+lighted it. Then he drank off half the beer, and
+spat in the fire, and went on.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A man so tall as me, if not taller. He'd got one
+of them old white beaver hats on his head, and he
+wore a flowing white beard, so long as my plough-horse's
+tail, and he walked up and down, up and
+down over the stones, like a sailor walks up and
+down on the deck of a ship. I shouted to the chap,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
+but he didn't take no more notice than the moon.
+Up and down he went; and then I told him, if he
+wasn't off inside two minutes, I'd get my fowling-piece
+and let fly. Still he paid no heed; and I don't
+mind saying to you men that, for half a second, I
+felt creepy-crawly and goose-flesh down the back.
+But 'twas only the cold, I reckon, for my window
+was wide open, and I'd been leaning out of it for a
+good while into ten degrees of frost.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After that, I got angry, and went down house
+and hitched the gun off the hooks over the mantelpiece,
+and ran out, just as I was, in nought but my
+boots and my nightshirt. The hour was so still
+as the grave at first, and the moon shone on the
+river far below and lit up the eaves and windows;
+and then, through the silence, I heard Widecombe
+bells ringing in the New Year. But the old night-bird
+in his top hat was gone. Not a hair of his
+beard did he leave behind. I looked about, and
+then up came the dog, barking like fury, not knowing
+who I was, dressed that way, till he heard my
+voice. And that's the tale; and who be that curious
+old rascal I'd much like to know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They didn't answer at first, and the daylight
+gained on 'em. Then old Parsons spoke up, and
+wagged his head and swore that 'twas no man his
+master had seen, but a creature from the other
+world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll lay my life,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;'twas the spectrum
+of Miser Brimpson as you saw walking; and I'll
+take oath by the New Year that 'twas his way to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
+show where his stuff be buried. For God's sake,&rdquo;
+he says, &ldquo;if you don't want to get into trouble
+with unknown creatures, go out and pull up the
+cobblestones, and see if there's anything underneath
+'em.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Jonathan made as though the whole thing
+was nonsense, and wouldn't let neither Thomas
+nor Hacker move a pebble. Only, the next day,
+he went off to a very old chap called Samuel Windeatt,
+whose father had been a boy at the time of
+the War Prison, and was said to have seen and
+known Miser Brimpson in the flesh. And the old
+man declared that, in his childish days, he'd heard
+of the miser, and that he certainly wore a beaver
+hat and had a white beard a yard long. So Jonathan
+came home again more thoughtful than afore,
+and finally&mdash;though he declared that he was
+ashamed to do it&mdash;he let Tom overpersuade him;
+and two days after the three men set to work where
+Drake had seen the spectrum.</p>
+
+<p>They dug and they dug, this way and that; and
+Jonathan found nought, and Parsons found
+nought; but Hacker came upon a box, and they
+dragged it out of the earth, and underneath of it
+was another box like the first. They was a pair of
+old rotten wood chests, by the look of them, made
+of boards nailed together with rusty nails. No
+locks or keys they had; but that was no matter,
+for they fell abroad at a touch, and inside of them
+was a lot of plate&mdash;candlesticks, snuffers, tea-kettles,
+table silver, and the like.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thunder!&rdquo; cried out Jonathan. &ldquo;'Tis all
+pewter trash, not worth a five-pound note! Us'll
+dig again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And dig they did for a week, till the farmyard
+in that place was turned over like a trenched
+kitchen-garden. But not another teaspoon did
+they find.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, however, somebody as understood
+such things explained to young Drake that the
+stuff unearthed was not pewter, nor yet Britannia
+metal neither, but old Sheffield plate, and worth
+plenty of good money at that.</p>
+
+<p>Jonathan felt too mazed with the event to do
+anything about it for a month; then he went to
+Plymouth, and took a few pieces of the find in his
+bag. And the man what he showed 'em to was so
+terrible interested that nothing would do but he
+must come up to Dunnabridge and see the lot. He
+offered two hundred and fifty pound for the things
+on the nail; so Jonathan saw very clear that they
+must be worth a good bit more. They haggled for
+a week, and finally the owner went up to Exeter
+and got another chap to name a price. In the long
+run, the dealers halved the things, and Jonathan
+comed out with a clear three hundred and fifty-four
+pound.</p>
+
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>He wasn't very pleased to talk about his luck,
+and inquisitive people got but little out of him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
+on the subject; but, of course, Parsons and Hacker
+spoke free and often on the subject, for 'twas the
+greatest adventure as had ever come to them in
+their lives; and, from telling the tale over and over
+old Parsons got to talk about it as if he'd seen the
+ghost himself.</p>
+
+<p>Then, after he'd chewed over the matter for a
+space of three or four months, and spring was come
+again, Jonathan Drake went off one night to White
+Works, just the same as he used to do when he was
+courting Hyssop Burges; and there was the little
+party as usual, with Mrs. Stonewer knitting, and
+Farmer reading yesterday's newspaper, and Hyssop
+sewing in her place by her aunt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; says Farmer Jimmy, &ldquo;wonders never
+cease! And to see you again here be almost so big
+a wonder as that they tell about of the old miser's
+tea-things. I'm sure we all give you joy, Jonathan;
+and I needn't tell you as we was cruel pleased to
+hear about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The young man thanked them very civilly, and
+said how 'twas a coorious come-along-of-it, and
+he didn't hardly know what to think of the matter
+even to that day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should reckon 'twas a bit of nonsense what
+I'd dreamed,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but money's money, as
+who should know better than me? And, by the
+same token, I want a few words with Hyssop if
+she'm willing to give me ten minutes of her time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You'm welcome, Mr. Drake,&rdquo; she said.</p>
+
+<p>He started at the surname; but she got up, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
+they went off just in the usual way to the parlor;
+and when they was there, she sat down in her old
+corner of the horsehair sofa and looked at him.
+But he didn't sit down&mdash;not at first. He walked
+about fierce and talked fierce.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll ax one question afore I go on, and, if the
+answer's what I fear, I'll trouble you no more,&rdquo; he
+said. &ldquo;In a word, be you tokened again? I
+suppose you be, for you're not the sort to go begging.
+Say it quick if 'tis so, and I'll be off and
+trouble you no further.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, Mr. Drake. I'm free as the day you&mdash;you
+throwed me over,&rdquo; she answered, in a very quiet
+little voice.</p>
+
+<p>He snorted at that, but was too mighty thankful
+to quarrel with the words. She could see he began
+to grow terrible excited now; and he walked up
+and down, taking shorter and shorter strides this
+way and that, like a hungry caged tiger as knows
+his bit of horse-flesh be on the way.</p>
+
+<p>At last he bursts out again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was a lot of lies told about that old plate
+us found at Dunnabridge. But the truth of the
+matter is, that I sold it for three hundred and fifty-four
+pounds.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So Tom Parsons told uncle. A wonderful thing;
+and we sat up all night talking about it, Mr. Drake.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For God's sake call me 'Jonathan'!&rdquo; he cried
+out; &ldquo;and tell me&mdash;tell me what the figure of your
+legacy was. You must tell me&mdash;you can't withhold
+it. 'Tis life or death&mdash;to me.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She'd never seen him so excited, but very well
+knowed what was in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you must know, you must,&rdquo; she answered.
+&ldquo;I thought I told you when&mdash;when&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, you didn't. I wouldn't bide to hear.
+Whatever 'twas, you'd got more than me, and that
+was all I cared about; but now, if by good fortune
+'tis less than mine, you understand&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course 'tis less. A hundred and eighty
+pound and the interest&mdash;a little over two hundred
+in all&mdash;is what I've gotten.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank God!&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>Then he axed her if she could marry him still,
+or if she knew too much about his ways and his
+ideas to care about doing so.</p>
+
+<p>And she took him again.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>You see, Hyssop Burges was my mother, and
+when father died I had the rights of the story from
+her. By that time the old people at White Works
+and Tom Parsons was all gone home, and the secret
+remained safe enough with Hyssop herself.</p>
+
+<p>The great difficulty was to put half her money
+and more, slap into Jonathan's hands without his
+knowing how it got there; and, even when the
+game with the ghost was hit upon, 'twas hard to
+know how to do it clever. Hyssop wanted to hide
+golden sovereigns at Dunnabridge; but her uncle,
+with wonnerful wit, pointed out that they'd all be
+dated; and to get three hundred sovereigns and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
+more a hundred years old could never have been
+managed. Then old Thomas, who was in the
+secret, of course, and played the part of Miser
+Brimpson, and got five pounds for doing it so
+clever, and another five after from his master,
+when the stuff was found&mdash;he thought upon
+trinkums and jewels; and finally Mrs. Stonewer,
+as had a friend in the business, said that Sheffield
+plate would do the trick. And she was right. The
+plate was bought for three hundred and eighty
+pound, and kept close at White Works till 'twas
+known that Jonathan meant to go away and bide
+away some days. Then my mother drove across
+with it; and Thomas made the cases wi' old rotten
+boards, and they drove a slant hole under the
+cobbles, and got all vitty again long afore young
+Drake came back home.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me and Jonathan was wedded in the fall of
+that year,&rdquo; said my mother to me when she told
+the tale. &ldquo;And, come the next New Year's Night,
+he was at our chamber window as the clock struck
+twelve, and bided there looking out into the yard
+for an hour, keen as the hawk that he was. He
+thought I must be asleep; but well I knowed he
+was seeking for an old man in a beaver hat wi' a
+long white beard, and well I knowed he'd never
+see him again. Of course your father took good
+care not to tell me the next morning that he'd been
+on the lookout for the ghost.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And my mother, in her own last days, oft dwelt
+on that trick; and sometimes she'd say, as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>
+time for meeting father got nearer and nearer, &ldquo;I
+wonder if 'twill make any difference in heaven,
+where no secrets be hid?&rdquo; And, knowing father so
+well as I had, I felt very sure as it might make a
+mighty lot of difference. So, in my crafty way, I
+hedged, and told mother that, for my part, I felt
+sartain there were some secrets that wouldn't even
+be allowed to come out at Judgment Day, for fear
+of turning heaven into t'other place; and that this
+was one of 'em. She always used to fret at that,
+however.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want for it to come out,&rdquo; she'd say. &ldquo;And,
+if Jonathan don't know, I shall certainly tell him.
+I've kept it in long enough, and I can't trust myself
+to do it no more. He've got to know, and,
+with all eternity to get over it and forgive me in,
+I have a right to be hopeful that he will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Hyssop Drake died in that fixed resolve; and
+I'm sure I trust that, when 'tis my turn to join my
+parents again, I shall find no shadow between 'em.
+But there's a lot of doubt about it&mdash;knowing
+father.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Skuat, windfall.</p></div>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_HAUNTED_PHOTOGRAPH" id="THE_HAUNTED_PHOTOGRAPH"></a>THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> RUTH McENERY STUART</h4>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>Harper's Bazar</i>, June, 1909. By permission of <i>Harper's
+Bazar</i>.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<h2>The Haunted Photograph</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> RUTH McENERY STUART</h4>
+
+<p>To the ordinary observer it was just a common
+photograph of a cheap summer hotel. It hung
+sumptuously framed in plush, over the Widow
+Morris's mantel, the one resplendent note in an
+otherwise modest home, in a characteristic Queen
+Anne village.</p>
+
+<p>One had only to see the rapt face of its owner
+as she sat in her weeds before the picture, which
+she tearfully pronounced &ldquo;a strikin' likeness,&rdquo; to
+sympathize with the townsfolk who looked askance
+at the bereaved woman, even while they bore
+with her delusion, feeling sure that her sudden
+sorrow had set her mind agog.</p>
+
+<p>When she had received the picture through the
+mail, some months before the fire which consumed
+the hotel&mdash;a fire through which she had not passed,
+but out of which she had come a widow&mdash;she
+proudly passed it around among the friends waiting
+with her at the post-office, replying to their questions
+as they admired it:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes! That's where he works&mdash;if you can
+call it work. He's the head steward in it. All that
+row o' winders where you see the awnin's down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
+they're his&mdash;an' them that ain't down, they're his,
+too&mdash;that is to say, it's his jurisdiction.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see, he's got the whip hand over the cook
+an' the sto'eroom, an' that key don't go out o' his
+belt unless he knows who's gettin' what&mdash;an' he's
+firm. Morris always was. He's like the iron law
+of the Ephesians.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What key?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was an old lady who held the picture at arm's
+length, the more closely to scan it, who asked the
+question. She asked it partly to know, as neither
+man nor key appeared in the photograph, and
+partly to parry the &ldquo;historic allusion&rdquo;&mdash;a disturbing
+sort of fire for which Mrs. Morris was rather
+noted and which made some of her most loyal
+townsfolk a bit shy of her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I ain't referrin' to the picture,&rdquo; she hastened
+to explain. &ldquo;I mean the keys thet he always
+carries in his belt. The reg'lar joke there is to call
+him 'St. Peter,' an' he takes it in good part, for, he
+declares, if there <i>is</i> such a thing <i>as</i> a similitude to
+the kingdom o' Heaven <i>in</i> a hotel, why, it's in the
+providential supply department which, in a manner,
+hangs to his belt. He always humors a joke&mdash;'specially
+on himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No one will ever know through what painful
+periods of unrequited longing the Widow Morris
+had sought solace in this, her only cherished &ldquo;relic,&rdquo;
+after the &ldquo;half hour of sky-works&rdquo; which had
+made her, in her own vernacular, &ldquo;a lonely, conflagrated
+widow, with a heart full of ashes,&rdquo; before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
+the glad moment when it was given her to discern
+in it an unsuspected and novel value. First had
+come, as a faint gleam of comfort, the reflection
+that although her dear lost one was not in evidence
+in the picture, he had really been inside the building
+when the photograph was taken, and so, of
+course, <i>he must be in there yet</i>!</p>
+
+<p>At first she experienced a slight disappointment
+that her man was not visible, at door or window.
+But it was only a passing regret. It was really
+better to feel him surely and broadly within&mdash;at
+large in the great house, free to pass at will from
+one room to another. To have had him fixed, no
+matter how effectively, would have been a limitation.
+As it was, she pressed the picture to her
+bosom as she wondered if, perchance, he would not
+some day come out of his hiding to meet her.</p>
+
+<p>It was a muffled pleasure and tremulously entertained
+at first, but the very whimsicality of it was
+an appeal to her sensitized imagination, and so,
+when finally the thing did really happen, it is small
+wonder that it came somewhat as a shock.</p>
+
+<p>It appears that one day, feeling particularly
+lonely and forlorn, and having no other comfort,
+she was pressing her tear-stained face against the
+row of window-shutters in the room without awnings,
+this being her nearest approach to the alleged
+occupant's bosom, when she was suddenly startled
+by a peculiar swishing sound, as of wind-blown rain,
+whereupon she lifted her face to perceive that it
+was indeed raining, and then, glancing back at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
+photograph, she distinctly saw her husband rushing
+from one window to another, drawing down the
+sashes on the side of the house that would have
+been exposed to the real shower whose music was
+in her ears.</p>
+
+<p>This was a great discovery, and, naturally
+enough, it set her weeping, for, she sobbed, it made
+her feel, for a minute, that she had lost her widowhood
+and that, after the shower, he'd be coming
+home.</p>
+
+<p>It might well make any one cry to suddenly lose
+the pivot upon which his emotions are swung. At
+any rate, Mrs. Morris cried. She said that she
+cried all night, first because it seemed so spooky to
+see him whose remains she had so recently buried
+on faith, waiving recognition in the d&eacute;bris, dashing
+about now in so matter-of-fact a way.</p>
+
+<p>And then she wept because, after all, he did not
+come.</p>
+
+<p>This was the formal beginning of her sense of
+personal companionship in the picture&mdash;companionship,
+yes, of delight in it, for there is even
+delight in tears&mdash;in some situations in life. Especially
+is this true of one whose emotions are her
+only guides, as seems to have been the case with
+the Widow Morris.</p>
+
+<p>After seeing him draw the window-sashes&mdash;and
+he had drawn them <i>down</i>, ignoring her presence&mdash;she
+sat for hours, waiting for the rain to stop. It
+seemed to have set in for a long spell, for when she
+finally fell asleep, &ldquo;from sheer disappointment,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
+'long towards morning,&rdquo; it was still raining, but
+when she awoke the sun shone and all the windows
+in the picture were up again.</p>
+
+<p>This was a misleading experience, however, for
+she soon discovered that she could not count upon
+any line of conduct by the man in the hotel, as the
+fact that it had one time rained in the photograph
+at the same time that it rained outside was but a
+coincidence and she was soon surprised to perceive
+all quiet along the hotel piazza, not even an awning
+flapping, while the earth, on her plane, was torn
+by storms.</p>
+
+<p>On one memorable occasion when her husband
+had appeared, flapping the window-panes from
+within with a towel, she had thought for one brief
+moment that he was beckoning to her, and that
+she might have to go to him, and she was beginning
+to experience terror, with shortness of breath and
+other premonitions of sudden passing, when she
+discovered that he was merely killing flies, and she
+flurriedly fanned herself with the asbestos mat
+which she had seized from the stove beside her,
+and staggered out to a seat under the mulberries,
+as she stammered:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do declare, Morris'll be the death of me yet.
+He's 'most as much care to me dead as he was
+alive&mdash;I made sure&mdash;made sure he'd come after
+me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then, feeling her own fidelity challenged, she
+hastened to add:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not that I hadn't rather go to him than to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
+any trip in the world, but&mdash;but I never did fancy
+that hotel, and since I've got used to seein' him
+there so constant, I feel sure that's where we'd put
+up. My belief is, anyway, that if there's hereafters
+for some things, there's hereafters for all.
+From what I can gather, I reckon I'm a kind of a
+cross between a Swedenborgian and a Gates-ajar&mdash;that,
+of course, engrafted on to a Methodist. Now,
+that hotel, when it was consumed by fire, which
+to it was the same as mortal death, why, it either
+ascended into Heaven, in smoke, or it fell, in ashes&mdash;to
+the other place. If it died worthy, like as not
+it's undergoin' repairs now for a 'mansion,' jasper
+cupalos, an'&mdash;but, of course, such as that could
+be run up in a twinklin'.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Still, from what I've heard, it's more likely
+gone <i>down</i> to its deserts. It would seem hard for a
+hotel with so many awned-off corridors an' palmed
+embrasures with teet-a-teet sofas, to live along
+without sin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She stood on her step-ladder, wiping the face of
+the picture as she spoke, and as she began to back
+down she discovered the cat under her elbow, glaring
+at the picture.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Kitty! Spit away!&rdquo; she exclaimed.
+&ldquo;Like as not you see even more than I do!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And as she slipped the ladder back into the
+closet, she remarked&mdash;this to herself, strictly:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If it hadn't 'a' been for poor puss, I'd 'a' had
+a heap more pleasure out o' this picture than
+what I have had&mdash;or will be likely to have again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
+The way she's taken on, I've almost come to hate
+it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A serpent had entered her poor little Eden&mdash;even
+the green-eyed monster constrictor, who, if
+given full swing, would not spare a bone of her
+meager comfort.</p>
+
+<p>A neighbor who chanced to come in at the time,
+unobserved overheard the last remark, and Mrs.
+Morris, seeing that she was there, continued in an
+unchanged tone, while she gave her a chair:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course, Mis' Withers, you can easy guess
+who I refer to. I mean that combly-featured
+wench that kep' the books an' answered the telephone
+at the hotel&mdash;when she found the time from
+her meddlin'. Somehow, I never thought about
+her bein' <i>burned in</i> with Morris till puss give her
+away. Puss never did like the girl when she was
+alive, an' the first time I see her scratch an' spit at
+the picture, just the way she used to do whenever
+<i>she</i> come in sight, why, it just struck me like a clap
+o' thunder out of a clear sky that puss knew who
+she was a-spittin' at&mdash;an' I switched around sudden&mdash;an'
+glanced up sudden&mdash;an'&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, what I seen, I seen! There was that
+beautied-up typewriter settin' in the window-sill
+o' Morris's butler's pantry&mdash;an' if she didn't wink
+at me malicious, then I don't know malice when I
+see it. An' she used her fingers against her nose,
+too, most defiant and impolite. So I says to puss
+I says, 'Puss,' I says, 'there's <i>goin's on</i> in that hotel,
+sure as fate. Annabel Bender has got the better<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
+o' me, for once!' An', tell the truth, it did spoil the
+photograph for me for a while, for, of course, after
+that, if I didn't see him somewheres on the watch
+for his faithful spouse, I'd say to myself, 'He's inside
+there with that pink-featured hussy!'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know, a man's a man, Mis' Withers&mdash;'specially
+Morris, an' with his lawful wife cut off
+an' indefinitely divorced by a longevitied family&mdash;an'
+another burned in with him&mdash;well, his faithfulness
+is put to a trial by fire, as you might say. So,
+as I say, it spoiled the picture for me, for a while.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An', to make matters worse, it wasn't any time
+before I recollected that Campbellite preacher thet
+was burned in with them, an' with that my imagination
+run riot, an' I'd think to myself, '<i>If</i> they're
+inclined, they cert'n'y have things handy!' Then
+I'd ketch myself an' say, 'Where's your faith in
+Scripture, Mary Marthy Matthews, named after
+two Bible women an' born daughter to an apostle?
+What's the use?' I'd say, an' so, first an' last, I'd
+get a sort o' alpha an' omega comfort out o' the
+passage about no givin' in marriage. Still, there'd
+be times, pray as I would, when them three would
+loom up, him an' her&mdash;<i>an'</i> the Campbellite
+preacher. I know his license to marry would run
+out <i>in time</i>, but for eternity, of course we don't
+know. Seem like everything would last forever&mdash;an'
+then again, if I've got a widow's freedom,
+Morris must be classed as a widower, if he's anything.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I'd get some relief in thinkin' about his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
+disposition. Good as he was, Morris was fickle-tasted,
+not in the long run, but day in an' day out,
+an' even if he'd be taken up with her he'd get a
+distaste the minute he reelized she'd be there interminable.
+That's Morris. Why, didn't he used
+to get nervous just seein' <i>me</i> around, an' me his
+own selected? An' didn't I use to make some
+excuse to send him over to Mame Maddern's ma's
+ma's&mdash;so's he'd be harmlessly diverted? She was
+full o' talk, and she was ninety-odd an' asthmatic,
+but he'd come home from them visits an' call me
+his child wife. I've had my happy moments!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know a man'll get tired of himself, even,
+if he's condemned to it too continual, and think of
+that blondinetted typewriter for a steady diet&mdash;to
+a man like Morris! Imagine her when her hair
+dye started to give out&mdash;green streaks in that
+pompadour! So, knowin' my man, I'd take courage
+an' I'd think, 'Seein' me cut off, he'll soon be
+wantin' me more than ever'&mdash;an' so he does. It's
+got so now that, glance up at that hotel any time
+I will, I can generally find him on the lookout, an'
+many's the time I've stole in an' put on a favoryte
+apron o' his with blue bows on it, when we'd be
+alone an' nobody to remark about me breakin' my
+mournin'. Dear me, how full o' b'oyancy he was&mdash;a
+regular boy at thirty-five, when he passed away!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Was it any wonder that her friends exchanged
+glances while Mrs. Morris entertained them in so
+droll a way? Still, as time passed and she not only
+brightened in the light of her delusion, but proceeded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
+to meet the conditions of her own life by
+opening a small shop in her home, and when she
+exhibited a wholesome sense of profit and loss, her
+neighbors were quite ready to accept her on terms
+of mental responsibility.</p>
+
+<p>With occupation and a modest success, emotional
+disturbance was surely giving place to an
+even calm, when, one day, something happened.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Morris sat behind her counter, sorting
+notions, puss asleep beside her, when she heard the
+swish of thin silk, with a breath of familiar perfume,
+and, looking up, whom did she see but the
+blond lady of her troubled dreams striding bodily
+up to the counter, smiling as she swished.</p>
+
+<p>At the sight the good woman first rose to her
+feet, and then as suddenly dropped&mdash;flopped&mdash;breathless
+and white&mdash;backward&mdash;and had to be
+revived, so that for the space of some minutes
+things happened very fast&mdash;that is, if we may
+believe the flurried testimony of the blonde, who,
+in going over it, two hours later, had more than
+once to stop for breath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, say!&rdquo; she panted. &ldquo;Did you ever!
+<i>Such</i> a turn as took her! I hadn't no more 'n
+stepped in the door when she succumbed, green as
+the Ganges, into her own egg-basket&mdash;an' it full!
+An' she was on the eve o' floppin' back into the
+prunin' scizzor points up, when I scrambled over
+the counter, breakin' my straight-front in two,
+which she's welcome to, poor thing! Then I loaned
+her my smellin'-salts, which she held her breath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
+against until it got to be a case of smell or die, an'
+she smelt! Then it was a case of temporary spasms
+for a minute, the salts spillin' out over her face, but
+when the accident evaporated, an' she opened her
+eyes, rational, I thought to myself, 'Maybe she
+don't know she's keeled an' would be humiliated if
+she did,' so I acted callous, an' I says, offhand like,
+I says, pushin' her apron around behind her over
+its <i>vice versa</i>, so's to cover up the eggs, which I
+thought had better be broke to her gently, I says.
+'I just called in, Mis' Morris, to borry your recipe
+for angel-cake&mdash;or maybe get you to bake one for
+us' (I knew she baked on orders). An' with that,
+what does she do but go over again, limp as wet
+starch, down an' through every egg in that basket,
+solid <i>an'</i> fluid!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, by this time, a man who had seen her at
+her first worst an' run for a doctor, he come in with
+three, an' whilst they were bowin' to each other an'
+backin', I giv' 'er stimulus an' d'rectly she turned
+upon me one rememberable gaze, an' she says,
+'Doctors,' says she, 'would you think they'd have
+the gall to try to get me to cook for 'em? They've
+ordered angel-ca&mdash;&mdash;' An' with that, over she
+toppled again, no pulse nor nothin', same as the
+dead!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>While the blonde talked she busied herself with
+her loosely falling locks, which she tried vainly to
+entrap.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An' yet you say she ain't classed as crazy? I'd
+say it of her, sure! An' so old Morris is dead&mdash;burned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
+in that old hotel! Well, well! Poor old
+fellow! Dear old place! What times I've had!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She spoke through a mouthful of gilt hairpins
+and her voice was as an &AElig;olian harp.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An' he burned in it&mdash;an' she's a widow yet!
+Yes, I did hear there'd been a fire, but you never
+can tell. I thought the chimney might 'a' burned
+out&mdash;an' I was in the thick of bein' engaged to the
+night clerk at the Singin' Needles Hotel at Pineville
+at the time&mdash;an' there's no regular mail there.
+I thought the story might be exaggerated. Oh no,
+I didn't marry the night clerk. I'm a bride now,
+married to the head steward, same rank as poor
+old Morris&mdash;an' we're just <i>as</i> happy! I used to
+pleg Morris about <i>her</i> hair, but I'd have to let up
+on that now. Mine's as red again as hers. No, not
+my hair&mdash;<i>mine's</i> hair. It's as red as a flannen
+drawer, every bit an' grain!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, say,&rdquo; she added, presently, &ldquo;when she
+gets better, just tell her never mind about that
+reci-pe. I copied it out of her reci-pe book whilst
+she was under the weather, an' dropped a dime in
+her cash-drawer. I recollect how old Morris used
+to look forward to her angel-cakes week-ends he'd
+be goin' home, an' you know there's nothin' like
+havin' ammunition, in marriage, even if you never
+need it. Mine's in that frame of mind now that
+transforms my gingerbread into angel-cake, but the
+time may come when I'll have to beat my eggs to a
+fluff even for angel-cake, so's not to have it taste
+like gingerbread to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh no, he's not with me this trip. I just run
+down for a lark to show my folks my ring an'
+things, an' let 'em see it's really so. He give me
+considerable jewelry. His First's taste run that
+way, an' they ain't no children.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, this amethyst is the weddin'-ring. I
+selected that on account of him bein' a widower.
+It's the nearest I'd come to wearin' second mournin'
+for a woman I can't exactly grieve after. The year
+not bein' up is why he stayed home this trip. He
+didn't like to be seen traversin' the same old haunts
+with Another till it <i>was</i> up. I wouldn't wait
+because, tell the truth, I was afraid. He ain't like
+a married man with me about money yet, an' it's
+liable to seize him any day. He might say that he
+couldn't afford the trip, or that we couldn't, which
+would amount to the same thing. I rather liked
+him bein' a little ticklish about goin' around with
+me for a while. It's one thing to do a thing an'
+another to be brazen about it&mdash;it&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if she don't get better&rdquo;&mdash;the reversion was
+to the Widow Morris&mdash;&ldquo;if she don't get her mind
+poor thing! there's a fine insane asylum just out of
+Pineville, an' I'd like the best in the world to look
+out for her. It would make an excuse for me to
+go in. They say they have high old times there.
+Some days they let the inmates do 'most any old
+thing that's harmless. They even give 'em unpoisonous
+paints an' let 'em paint each other up.
+One man insisted he was a barber-pole an' ringed
+himself accordingly, an' then another chased him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
+around for a stick of peppermint candy. Think of
+all that inside a close fence, an' a town so dull an'
+news-hungry&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, they say Thursdays is paint days, an', of
+course, Fridays, they are scrub days. They pass
+around turpentine an' hide the matches. But, of
+course, Mis' Morris may get the better of it. 'Tain'
+every woman that can stand widowin', an' sometimes
+them that has got the least out of marriage
+will seem the most deprived to lose it&mdash;so they say.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The blonde was a person of words.</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>When Mrs. Morris had fully revived and, after
+a restoring &ldquo;night's sleep&rdquo; had got her bearings,
+and when she realized clearly that her supposed
+rival had actually shown up in the flesh, she visibly
+braced up. Her neighbors understood that it must
+have been a shock &ldquo;to be suddenly confronted with
+any souvenir of the hotel fire&rdquo;&mdash;so one had expressed
+it&mdash;and the incident soon passed out of the
+village mind.</p>
+
+<p>It was not long after this incident that the widow
+confided to a friend that she was coming to depend
+upon Morris for advice in her business.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Standing as he does, in that hotel door&mdash;between
+two worlds, as you might say&mdash;why, he sees
+both ways, and oftentimes he'll detect an event <i>on
+the way to happening</i>, an' if it don't move too fast,
+why, I can hustle an' get the better of things.&rdquo; It
+was as if she had a private wire for advance information&mdash;and
+she declared herself happy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Indeed, a certain ineffable light such as we sometimes
+see in the eyes of those newly in love came
+to shine from the face of the widow, who did not
+hesitate to affirm, looking into space as she said it:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Takin' all things into consideration, I can truly
+say that I have never been so truly and ideely
+married as since my widowhood.&rdquo; And she smiled
+as she added:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Marriage, the earthly way, is vicissitudinous,
+for everybody knows that anything is liable to
+happen to a man at large.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There had been a time when she lamented that
+her picture was not &ldquo;life-sized&rdquo; as it would seem
+so much more natural, but she immediately reflected
+that that hotel would never have gotten
+into her little house, and that, after all, the main
+thing was having &ldquo;him&rdquo; under her own roof.</p>
+
+<p>As the months passed Mrs. Morris, albeit she
+seemed serene and of peaceful mind, grew very
+white and still. Fire is white in its ultimate intensity.
+The top, spinning its fastest, is said to
+&ldquo;sleep&rdquo;&mdash;and the dancing dervish is &ldquo;still.&rdquo; So,
+misleading signs sometimes mark the danger-line.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Under-eating and over-thinking&rdquo; was what the
+doctor said while he felt her translucent wrist and
+prescribed nails in her drinking-water. If he
+secretly knew that kind nature was gently letting
+down the bars so that a waiting spirit might easily
+pass&mdash;well, he was a doctor, not a minister. His
+business was with the body, and he ordered repairs.</p>
+
+<p>She was only thirty-seven and &ldquo;well&rdquo; when she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
+passed painlessly out of life. It seemed to be
+simply a case of going.</p>
+
+<p>There were several friends at her bedside the
+night she went, and to them she turned, feeling the
+time come:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I just wanted to give out that the first thing I
+intend to do when I'm relieved is to call by there
+for Morris&rdquo;&mdash;she lifted her weary eyes to the
+picture as she spoke&mdash;&ldquo;for Morris&mdash;and I want it
+understood that it'll be a vacant house from the
+minute I depart. So, if there's any other woman
+that's calculatin' to have any carryin's-on from
+them windows&mdash;why, she'll be disappointed&mdash;she
+or they. The one obnoxious person I thought was
+in it <i>wasn't</i>. My imagination was tempted of
+Satan an' I was misled. So it must be sold for just
+what it is&mdash;just a photographer's photograph. If
+it's a picture with a past, why, everybody knows
+what that past is, and will respect it. I have tried
+to conquer myself enough to bequeath it to the
+young lady I suspicioned, but human nature is
+frail, an' I can't quite do it, although doubtless she
+would like it as a souvenir. Maybe she'd find it a
+little too souvenirish to suit my wifely taste, and
+yet&mdash;if a person is going to die&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose I might legate it to her, partly to recompense
+her for her discretion in leaving that hotel
+when she did&mdash;an' partly for undue suspicion&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There's a few debts to be paid, but there's eggs
+an' things that'll pay them, an' there's no need to
+have the hen settin' in the window showcase any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
+longer. It was a good advertisement, but I've
+often thought it might be embarrassin' to her.&rdquo;
+She was growing weaker, but she roused herself to
+amend:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Better raffle the picture for a dollar a chance
+an' let the proceeds go to my funeral&mdash;an' I want
+to be buried in the hotel-fire general grave, commingled
+with him&mdash;an' what's left over after the
+debts are paid, I bequeath to <i>her</i>&mdash;to make amends&mdash;an'
+if she don't care to come for it, let every
+widow in town draw for it. But she'll come.
+'Most any woman'll take any trip, if it's paid for&mdash;But
+look!&rdquo; she raised her eyes excitedly toward
+the mantel, &ldquo;Look! What's that he's wavin'? It
+looks&mdash;oh yes, it is&mdash;it's our wings&mdash;two pairs&mdash;mine
+a little smaller. I s'pose it'll be the same old
+story&mdash;I'll never be able to keep up&mdash;to keep up
+with him&mdash;an' I've been so hap&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Morris&mdash;I'm comin'&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And she was gone&mdash;into a peaceful sleep from
+which she easily passed just before dawn.</p>
+
+<p>When all was well over, the sitting women rose
+with one accord and went to the mantel, where one
+even lighted an extra candle more clearly to scan
+the mysterious picture.</p>
+
+<p>Finally one said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You may think I'm queer, but it does look
+different to me already!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So it does,&rdquo; said another, taking the candle.
+&ldquo;Like a house for rent. I declare, it gives me the
+cold shivers.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll pay my dollar gladly, and take a chance for
+it,&rdquo; whispered a third, &ldquo;but I wouldn't let such a
+thing as that enter my happy home&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Neither would I!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nor me, neither. I've had trouble enough.
+My husband's first wife's portrait has brought me
+discord enough&mdash;an' it was a straight likeness. I
+don't want any more pictures to put in the hen-house
+loft.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the feeling ran among the wives.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said she who was blowing out the
+candle, &ldquo;I'll draw for it&mdash;an' take it if I win it, an'
+consider it a sort of inheritance. I never inherited
+anything but indigestion.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The last speaker was a maiden lady, and so was
+she who answered, chuckling:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's what I say! Anything for a change.
+There'd be some excitement in a picture where a
+man was liable to show up. It's more than I've
+got now. I do declare it's just scandalous the way
+we're gigglin', an' the poor soul hardly out o'
+hearin'. She had a kind heart, Mis' Morris had,
+an' she made herself happy with a mighty slim
+chance&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she did&mdash;and I only wish there'd been a
+better man waitin' for her in that hotel.&rdquo;</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_GHOST_THAT_GOT_THE_BUTTON" id="THE_GHOST_THAT_GOT_THE_BUTTON"></a>THE GHOST THAT GOT THE BUTTON</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By WILL ADAMS</span></h4>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From <i>Collier's Weekly</i>, May 24, 1913. By permission of <i>Collier's
+Weekly</i> and Will Adams.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<h2>The Ghost that Got the Button</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By WILL ADAMS</span></h4>
+
+
+<p>One autumn evening, when the days were shortening
+and the darkness fell early on Hotchkiss and
+the frost was beginning to adorn with its fine glistening
+lace the carbine barrels of the night sentries
+as they walked post, Sergeants Hansen and Whitney
+and Corporal Whitehall had come to Stone's
+room after supper, feeling the need common to all
+men in the first cold nights of the year for a cozy
+room, a good smoke, and congenial companionship.</p>
+
+<p>The steam heat, newly turned on, wheezed and
+whined through the radiator: the air was blue and
+dense with tobacco smoke; the three sergeants
+reposed in restful, if inelegant attitudes, and Whitehall,
+his feet on the window sill and his wooden
+chair tilted back, was holding forth between puffs
+at a very battered pipe about an old colored woman
+who kept a little saloon in town.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So she got mad at those K troop men,&rdquo; he said.
+&ldquo;An' nex' day when Turner stopped there for a
+drink she says: 'You git outer yere! You men fum
+de Arsenic wid de crossbones on you caps, I ain't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
+lettin' you in; but de Medical Corpses an' de Non-efficient
+Officers, dey may come.'&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The laugh that followed was interrupted by the
+approach of a raucous, shrieking noise that rose
+and fell in lugubrious cadence. &ldquo;What the deuce!&rdquo;
+exclaimed Whitehall, starting up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's Bill,&rdquo; explained Stone. &ldquo;Bill Sullivan.
+He thinks he's singin'. Funny you never heard
+him before, Kid, but then he's not often taken that
+way, thank the Lord.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in, Bill,&rdquo; he called, &ldquo;an' tell us what's
+the matter. Feel sick? Where's the pain?&rdquo; he
+asked as big Bill appeared in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in, hombre, an' rest yo'self,&rdquo; invited
+Whitney, and hospitably handed over his tobacco-pouch.
+&ldquo;What was that tune yo'all were singin'
+out yonder?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thanks,&rdquo; responded Bill, settling down.
+&ldquo;That there tune was 'I Wonder Where You Are
+To-night, My Love.'&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sounded like 'Sister's Teeth Are Plugged with
+Zinc,'&rdquo; commented Whitney.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Or 'Lookin' Through the Knot Hole in Papa's
+Wooden Leg,'&rdquo; said Whitehall.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Or 'He Won't Buy the Ashman a Manicure
+Set,'&rdquo; added Stone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; reiterated Bill solemnly. &ldquo;It was like I
+told yer; 'I Wonder Where You Are To-night,
+My Love,' and it's a corker, too! I seen a feller
+an' a goil sing it in Kelly's Voddyville Palace out
+ter Cheyenne onct. Foist he'd sing one voise an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
+then she'd sing the nex'. He was dressed like a
+soldier, an' while he sang they was showin' tabloids
+o' what the goil was a-doin' behind him; an' then
+when she sang her voise he'd be in the tabloid, an'
+when it got ter the last voise, an' he was dyin' on a
+stretcher in a ambulance, everybody in the house
+was a-cryin' so yer could hardly hear her. It was
+great! My!&rdquo; continued Bill, spreading out his
+great paws over the radiator, &ldquo;ain't this the
+snappy evenin'? Real cold. Somehow it 'minds
+me of the cold we had in China that time of the
+Boxers, after we'd got ter the Legations; the nights
+was cold just like this is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Bill,&rdquo; said Whitney, &ldquo;I never knew
+yo'all were there then. Why did yo' never tell us
+befo'? What were yo' with?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fourteenth Infantry,&rdquo; responded Bill proudly.
+&ldquo;It's a great ol' regiment&mdash;don't care if they <i>are</i>
+doughboys.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What company was you in?&rdquo; inquired Hansen,
+ponderously taking his pipe from his mouth and
+breaking silence for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;J Company, same as this.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this reply Stone opened his mouth abruptly
+to say something, but thought better of it and shut
+up again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was blame cold them nights a week or so
+after we was camped in the Temple of Agriculture
+(that's what they called it&mdash;I dunno why), but
+say! the heat comin' up from Tientsin was fryin'!
+It was jus' boilin', bakin', an' bubblin'&mdash;worse a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>
+heap than anythin' we'd had in the islands. We
+chucked away mos' every last thing on that hike
+but canteens an' rifles. It was a darn fool thing ter
+do&mdash;the chuckin' was, o' course&mdash;but it come out
+all right, 'cause extree supplies follered us up on the
+Pie-ho in junks. Ain't that a funny name fer a
+river? Pie-ho? Every time I got homesick I'd
+say that river, an' then I'd see Hogan's Dairy
+Lunch fer Ladies an' Gents on the ol' Bowery an'
+hear the kid Mick Hogan yellin': 'Draw one in the
+dark! White wings&mdash;let her flop! Pie-ho!' an' it
+helped me a heap.&rdquo; Bill settled himself and
+stretched.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what I really wanted to tell youse about,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;was somepin' that happened one o' these
+here cold nights. It gits almighty cold there in
+September, an' it was sure the spookiest show I
+ever seen. Even Marm Haggerty's table rappin's
+in Hester Street never come up to it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was three of us fellers who ran in a bunch
+them days: me an' Buck Dugan, my bunkie, from
+the Bowery like me (he was a corporal), an' Ranch
+Fields&mdash;we called him that 'cause he always
+woiked on a ranch before he come into the Fourteenth.
+They was great fellers, Buck an' Ranch
+was. Buck, now&mdash;yer couldn't phase him, yer
+couldn't never phase him, no matter what sort o'
+job yer put him up against he'd slide through slick
+as a greased rat. The Cap'n, he knew it, too.
+Onct when we was fightin' an' hadn't no men to
+spare, he lef' Buck on guard over about twenty-five<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>
+Boxer prisoners in a courtyard an' tells him he
+dassent let one escape. But Buck wants ter git
+into the fight with the rest of the boys, an' when he
+finds that if he leaves them Chinos loose in the
+yard alone they'll git out plenty quick, what does
+he do but tie 'em tight up by their pigtails to some
+posts. He knows they can't undo them tight knots
+backwards, an' no Chink would cut his pigtail if
+he <i>did</i> have a knife&mdash;he'd die foist&mdash;an' so Buck
+skidoos off to the fight, an', sure enough, when the
+Cap'n wants them Boxers, they're ready, tied up
+an' waitin'. That was his sort, an', gee, but he
+was smart!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We was all right int'rested in them Allies, o'
+course, an' watched 'em clost; but, 'Bill,' says
+Buck ter me one night, 'its been woikin in me
+nut that these here fellers ain't so different from
+what we know a'ready. Excep' fer their uniform
+an' outfits, we've met 'em all before but the Japs.
+Why, look a-here,' says he, 'foist, there's the white
+men&mdash;the English&mdash;ain't they jus' like us excep'
+that they're thicker an' we're longer? An' their
+Injun niggers&mdash;ain't we seen their clothes in the
+comic op'ras an' them without their clothes in the
+monkey cage at Central Park? An' their Hong-kong
+China Regiment an' all the other Chinos is
+jus' the same as yer meet in the pipe joints in Mott
+Street. Then,' says he, 'come all the Dagos.
+These leather necks of Macaroni Dagos we've
+seen a swarmin' all over Mulberry Bend an' Five
+Points; the Sauerkraut Dagos looks fer all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
+woild like they was goin' ter a Sch&uuml;tzenfest up by
+High Bridge; the Froggie Dagos you'll find packed in
+them Frenchy restaraws in the Thirties&mdash;where yer
+git blue wine&mdash;and them Vodki Dagos only needs
+a pushcart ter make yer think yer in Baxter Street.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Buck, he could sure talk, but Ranch, he wasn't
+much on chin-chin. Little an' dark an' quiet he
+was, an' jus' crazy fer dogs. Any old mutt'd do
+fer him&mdash;jus' so's it was in the shape of a pup. He
+was fair wild fer 'em. He picked up a yeller
+cur out there the day after the Yangtsin fight, an'
+that there no-account, mangy, flea-bitten mutt
+had ter stay with us the whole time. If the pup
+didn't stand in me an' Buck an' Ranch, he swore
+he'd quit too, so we had to let him come, an' he
+messed an' bunked with our outfit right along.
+Ranch named him Daggett, after the Colonel,
+which was right hard on the C. O., but I bet Ranch
+thought he was complimentin' him. Why, Ranch
+considered himself honored if any of the pup's fleas
+hopped off on him. The pup he kep' along with
+us right through everything; Ranch watchin' him
+like the apple of his eye, an' he hardly ever was out
+of our sight, till one night about a week after we
+quartered in the temple he didn't turn up fer supper.
+He was always so reg'lar at his chow that
+Ranch he begin ter git the squirms an' when come
+taps an' Daggett hadn't reported, Ranch had the
+razzle-dazzles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nex' mornin' the foist thing he must go hunt
+that pup, an' went a scoutin' all day, me an' Buck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
+helpin' him&mdash;but nary pup; an' come another
+supper without that miser'ble mutt, an' Ranch
+was up an alley all right, all right. He was all
+wore out, an' I made him hit the bunk early an'
+try ter sleep; but, Lord! No sooner he'd drop off
+'n he git ter twitchin' an' hitchin' an' wake up
+a-yelpin' fer Daggett. Long about taps, Buck,
+who's been out on a private reconnoissance, comes
+back an' whispers ter me: 'Ssst, Bill! The cur's
+found! Don't tell Ranch; the bloke'd die of heart
+failure. I struck his trail an' follered it&mdash;an' say,
+Bill, what'n thunder do yer think? Them heathen
+Chinos has <i>et him</i>!' Lord, now, wouldn't that jolt
+youse? Them Chinos a-eatin' Daggett! It give
+me an awful jar, an' Buck he felt it, too. That
+there mutt had acted right decent, an' we knew
+Ranch would have bats in the belfry fer fair if he
+hoid tell o' the pup's finish; so says Buck; 'Let's
+not tell him, 'cause he's takin' on now like he'd
+lost mother an' father an' best goil an' all, an' if he
+knew Daggett was providin' chow fer Chinos he'd
+go clean bug house an' we'd have ter ship him home
+ter St. Elizabeth.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I says O. K. ter that, an' we made it up not
+ter let on ter Ranch; an' now here comes the spook
+part yer been a-waitin' fer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Four or five nights later I was on guard, an' my
+post was the farthest out we had on the north.
+There was an ol' road out over that way, an' I'd
+hoid tell it led ter a ol' graveyard, but I hadn't
+never been there myself an' hadn't thought much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
+about it till 'long between two an' three o'clock,
+as I was a-hikin' up an down, when somepin' comes
+a-zizzin' down the road hell-fer-leather on to me,
+a-yellin' somepin' fierce. Gee, but I was skeered!
+I made sure it was a spook, an' there wasn't a bit o'
+breath left in me. I was all to the bad that time
+fer sure. Before I had time ter think even, that
+screamin', streakin' thing was on me an a-grabbin'
+roun' my knees; an' then I see it was one o' them
+near-Christian Chinos, an' he's skeered more'n
+me even. His eyes had popped clean out'n their
+slits, an' his tongue was hangin' out by the roots,
+he was that locoed. I raised the long yell fer
+corporal of the guard, which happened, by good
+luck, ter be Buck, an' when he come a-runnin',
+thinkin' from the whoops I give we was bein'
+rushed by the hole push of Boxers, the two of us
+began proddin' at the Chink ter find out what was
+doin'. Took us some time, too, with him bein' in
+such a flutter an' hardly able ter even hand out his
+darn ol' pigeon English, that sounds like language
+comin' out of a sausage machine. When we did
+savvy his line of chop-suey talk, we found out he'd
+seen a ghost in the graveyard, an' not only seen it
+but he knew who the spook was an' all about him.
+We was gittin' some serious ourselves an' made
+him tell us.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seems it was a mandarin&mdash;that's a sort o'
+Chink police-court judge (till I got ter Tientsin I
+always thought they was little oranges), an' this
+tangerine's&mdash;I mean mandarin's&mdash;name was Wu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>
+Ti Ming, an' he'd been a high mucky-muckraker
+in his day, which was two or three hundred years
+back. But the Emprer caught him deep in some
+sort o' graft an' <i>took away his button</i> an' all o' his
+dough.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Lord!' says Buck when we come ter this,
+'don't that prove what heathens Chinks is? Only
+one button ter keep on their clothes with, an' the
+Emprer he kin take it away! What did this here
+Judge Ming do then, John? Use string or pins?'
+This here John didn't seem ter savvy, but he said
+that the mandarin took on so fer his button an'
+his loss of pull in the ward that it was sure sad ter
+see, an' by an' by the Emprer got busy again with
+him an' had him finished up fer keeps; had him
+die the 'death of a thousand cuts,' says John. It
+sounded fierce ter me, but Buck he says:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Pshaw! Anybody who's been shaved reg'lar
+by them lady barbers on Fourth Avenyer would
+'a' give the Emprer the merry ha-ha&mdash;&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After Ming was cut up they took the remains
+of his corpse an' planted him in this here graveyard
+up the road; but he wouldn't stay planted
+an' began doin' stunts at night, 'topside walkee-walkee'
+an' a-huntin' fer his lost button. He'd
+used ter have the whole country scared up, but fer
+the last twenty years he'd kep' right quiet an' had
+hardly ever come out; but now sence the foreign
+devils come (ain't that a sweet name fer us?) he's
+up an' at it again worse than ever, an' the heathens
+is on their ear. Fer four nights now they'd seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>
+him, wrapped in a blue robe, waitin' an' a-huntin'
+behind tombstones an' walkin' round an' round
+the graveyard lie a six days' race fer the belt at
+Madison Square. John had jus' seen him on the
+wall, an' that was why he come chargin' down the
+road like forty cats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Will Mr. Ming's sperrit walk till he gits that
+button back?' Buck asts. John says: 'Sure.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Well,' says Buck, 'why don't yer give him
+one?'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'No can give. Only Emplor, only Son of
+Heaven give.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Well, look here,' says Buck, 'we sand rabbits
+ain't no sons of Heaven, but I'll be darned if we
+couldn't spare a button ter lay the ghost of a pore
+busted police-court judge, who's lost his job an'
+his tin, if <i>that's</i> all he wants back. What time
+does he come out at, John? Could we see him
+ter-morrer night?' 'Sure could we,' says John;
+'he'll show us the way, but he won't wait with us;
+he's bad enough fer his.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So Buck takes John an' goes back ter the guard
+shack, as it's most time fer relief, an' after I got
+back we told John ter git the hook, an' we talked
+things over, an' Buck he was just wild ter see if he
+couldn't lay that Chino ghost. His talents was
+achin' ter git action on him; anythin' like that got
+up his spunk. Says I:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Maybe Ranch kin help. We'll tell him ter-morrer
+after guard mount. It'll take his mind off
+Daggett.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'No, yer don't,' says Buck. 'Don't yer dare
+tell him. He's nervous as a cat over the pup as it
+is, an' this spook business is awful skeery; I'm
+feelin' woozy over it meself. I'm all off when it
+comes ter ghosts&mdash;that is, if it's a real ghost. And
+things here in Pekin' is so funny the odds is all in
+favor of its bein' the sure thing. I ain't afeard o'
+no kinds o' people, but I sure git cold feet when
+I'm up against a ghost. Wouldn't that jar youse?
+An' me a soldier; when it's a soldier's whole business
+not ter <i>git</i> cold feet. But I'm bound I'll have
+a show at that ol' spook even if it <i>does</i> skeer me out
+o' my growth. Only don't yer dare tell Ranch.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nex' night, right after eleven o'clock rounds,
+me an' Buck slipped outer our blankets, sneaked
+out past the guard, an' met John, who was waitin'
+fer us in the road jus' beyond where the last sentry
+woulder seen him. It was cold as git out. Jus'
+the same kind o' early cold as to-night, an' John's
+teeth was chatterin' like peas in a box&mdash;he was
+some loco with skeer, too, you bet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Which way?' says Buck, an' John spouts a
+lot o' dope-joint lingo an' takes us up a side alley,
+where there's a whole bunch o' Chinos waitin' fer
+us, an' they begun a kowtowin' an' goin' on like
+we was the whole cheese. Turned out that John
+had jollied 'em that the Melican soldier mans was
+big medicine an' would make Judge Ming quit the
+midnight hike an' cut out scarin' 'em blue. That
+jus' suited Buck; he was all there when it come ter
+play commander in chief. He swelled up an' give<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
+'em a bundle o' talk that John put in Chino fer
+'em, an' then finished up by showin' 'em a button&mdash;a
+ol' United States Army brass button he'd cut
+off his blue blouse&mdash;an' tol' 'em he was goin' ter
+bury it in Ming's grave so as ter keep him bedded
+down.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An' them simple idiots was pleased ter death,
+an' the whole outfit escorted us over ter the graveyard,
+but they shied at the gate (Lord, I hated ter
+see 'em go&mdash;even if they <i>was</i> heathens!), an' let
+John take us in an' show us where ter wait. He
+put us in behind a pile o' little rocks in about the
+middle o' the place near where Judge Ming hung
+out, an' then retired on the main body at the
+double, leavin' us two in outpost alone there together.
+I hadn't never been ter a Chino buryin'
+ground before, an' night time wasn't extree pleasant
+fer a foist introduce. There was a new moon
+that night&mdash;a little shavin' of a thing that hardly
+gave no light, an' from where we was there was
+a twisty pine tree branch that struck out right
+acrost it like a picture card&mdash;two fer five. The
+graveyard was all dark an' quiet, with little piles
+o' rocks an' stone tables ter mark the graves, an' a
+four- or five-foot wall runnin' all round it; an'
+somehow, without nothin' stirrin' at all, the whole
+blame place seemed chock full o' movin' shadders.
+There wasn't a sound neither; not the least little
+thing; jus' them shadders; an' the harder yous'd
+look at 'em the more they seemed ter move. It
+was cold, too, like I told yer&mdash;bitin' cold&mdash;an' me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>
+an' Buck squatted there tight together an' mos'
+friz. We waited, an' we waited, an' <i>we waited</i>, an'
+we got skeerder, an' skeerder, an' <i>skeerder</i>, an',
+gee! how we shivered! Every minute we thought
+we'd see Judge Ming, but a long time went by an'
+he didn't come an' he <i>didn't</i> come. There we set,
+strung up tight an' ready ter snap like a banjo
+string, but nothin' ter see but the shakin' shadders
+an' nothin' ter hear&mdash;nothin' but jus' dead, dead
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All of a suddent Buck (he kin hear a pin drop
+a mile away) nearly nips a piece out'n my arm as
+he grips me. 'Listen!' says he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I listened an' listened, but I didn't hear
+nothin', an' I told him so.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Yes, yer do, yer bloke yer,' he whispers,
+'Listen. Strain your years.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then way off I did begin ter hear somepin'.
+It was a long, funny, waily cry, sort o' like the way
+cats holler at each other at night. 'Oh-oo-oo,
+oh-oo-oo!' like that, an' it come nearer an' nearer.
+Then all of a suddent somepin' popped up on the
+graveyard wall about a hundred yards away&mdash;somepin'
+all blue-gray against the hook o' the moon&mdash;an'
+began walkin' up an' down an' hollerin'. I
+knew it was sayin' words, but I was so far to the
+bad I didn't know nothin' an' couldn't make it out.
+I never thought a feller's heart could bang so hard
+against his ribs without bustin' out, an' me hair
+riz so high me campaign hat was three inches off'n
+me head. I hope ter the Lord I'll never be so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
+frightened again in all my livin' days. I set there
+in a transom from fear an' friz ter the spot. I
+don't know nothin' o' what Buck was doin', as my
+lamps was glued ter the spook. It jumped down
+from the wall, callin' an' whistlin' an' begin runnin'
+round the little stone heaps. I seen it was
+comin' our way, but I couldn't move or make a
+sound; I jus' set. All of a suddent Buck he jumps
+up an' makes a dash an' a leap at the spook, an'
+there's a terrible yellin' an' they both comes down
+crash at the foot of a rock pile, rollin' on the little
+pebbles; but Buck is on top an' the spook underneath
+an' lettin' off the most awful screeches.
+Gosh, they jus' ripped the air, them spooks' yells
+did, an' they turned my spell loose an' I howled
+fer all I was worth. Then Buck, he commenced
+a-yawpin' too, but me an' the spook we was both
+raisin' so much noise I didn't savvy what he said
+fer some time. Then I found he was cussin' me out.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Come here, you forsaken &mdash;&mdash; &mdash;&mdash;,' he howls.
+'Quit yellin'! I say <i>quit yellin'</i>! Don't yer see
+who this is? Come here an' help me.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'You think I'm goin' ter tech that Ming
+spook?' I shrieks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'You miser'ble loony,' he yells back, 'can't
+yer see it ain't no Ming? It's Ranch!'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, so it was. It was Ranch skeered stiff an'
+hollerin' fer dear life at bein' jumped on an' waked
+up in the middle of a graveyard that-a-way. Pore
+ol' feller had had Daggett on his mind, an' went
+sleepwalkin' an' huntin' wrapped in his blanket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'An',' says Buck ter me, 'if youse hadn't been
+in such a dope dream with skeer, you'd 'a' sensed
+what he was a-yellin'. He was callin' &ldquo;Oh-oo-oo,
+oh-oo-oo, here Daggett! Here, boy!&rdquo; an' then
+he'd whistle an' call again: &ldquo;Here, Daggett! Here,
+Daggett!&rdquo; That's how I knew it was Ranch; an',
+besides, he told me onct that he sleepwalked when
+he got worried. But you, you white livered&mdash;'
+an' then he cussed me out some more.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Smarty,' I says, 'if yer knew so blame well it
+was Ranch, why did yer give him the flyin' tackle
+like yer done an' git him all woiked up like this?'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Well,' says Buck sort o' sheepy, 'I was some
+woiked up meself, an' time he come along I give
+him the spook's tackle without thinkin'; I was too
+skeered ter think. Hush, Ranch. Hush, old boy.
+It's jus' me'n Bill. Nobody shan't hoit yer.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We comforted pore ol' Ranch an' fixed him up,
+an' then when he felt better told him about things&mdash;all
+but how Daggett was et&mdash;an' I wrapped his
+blanket around him an' took him back ter quarters
+while Buck went a-lookin' fer John an' his gang.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He found 'em about half a mile off, in front
+of a Mott Street joss house, all prayin' an' burnin'
+punk an' huddled together, skeered green from the
+yellin's they'd heard. Buck, he give 'em a long
+chin-chin about layin' the ghost, an' how Judge
+Ming wouldn't never come back no more; an' then
+he dragged 'em all back (they pullin' at the halter
+shanks with years laid back an' eyes rollin'), ter
+him bury his United States button on Ming's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
+rock pile. He dropped it in solemn, an' said what
+the Chinks took ter be a prayer; but it was really
+the oath he said. Buck havin' onct been a recruitin'
+sergeant, knew it by heart all the way from
+'I do solemnly swear' ter 'so help me, Gawd.'
+Buck says I oughter seen them grateful Chinos
+then: they'd 'a' give him the whole Chino Umpire
+if they could. They got down an' squirmed an'
+kissed his hands an' his feet an' his sleeve. They
+wanted ter escort him back ter camp, but he
+bucked at that, an' said no, as he was out without
+pass an' not itchin' fer his arrival ter be noticed
+none.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After that we took toins watchin' Ranch at
+night, an' got him another mutt ter love, an' he
+didn't wander any more, so Judge Ming seemed
+satisfied with his United States button, an' kep'
+quiet. But them Chinks was the gratefullest gang
+yer ever seen. They brought us presents; things
+ter eat&mdash;fruit, poultry, eggs, an' all sorts of chow,
+some of it mighty funny lookin', but it tasted all
+right; we lived high, we three. The other fellers
+was wild ter know how we woiked it. An' I tell
+yer I ain't never been skeered o' ghosts sence&mdash;that
+is, not ter speak of&mdash;<i>much</i>!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Bill, paused, drew a long breath, and looked at
+the clock. &ldquo;Gee!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;most nine o'clock. I
+got ter go over ter K troop ter see Sergeant Keefe
+a minute&mdash;I promised him. Adios, fellers.
+Thanks fer the smokin'.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Keep the change, hombre. Thanks for yo'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
+tale,&rdquo; shouted Whitney after him as he disappeared
+down the hall.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well!!&rdquo; said Stone, and looked at Hansen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well!!&rdquo; responded Hansen. The big Swede
+shook with laughter. &ldquo;Iss he not the finest liar!
+Yess? I wass in the Fourteenth myselluf. That
+wass my company&mdash;Chay. He wass not even the
+army in then&mdash;in nineteen hund'erd.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Stone, &ldquo;I knew, but I wasn't goin'
+to spoil his bloomin' yarn. I happened to see his
+enlistment card only this mornin', and the only
+thing he was ever in before was the Twenty-third
+Infantry after they came back from the Islands.
+He's never even been out of the States.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But where did he get it from?&rdquo; asked Whitney.
+&ldquo;His imagination is equal to most anything but
+gettin' so many facts straight. Of co'se I noticed
+things yere an' there&mdash;but the most of it was
+O. K.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; said Hansen, grinning, &ldquo;he got it
+from an old Fourteenth man&mdash;Dan Powerss&mdash;at
+practice camp last Chuly. He an' I wass often
+talking of China. He wuss in my old company an'
+wass then telling me how he an' the other fellerss
+all that extra chow got. I tank Bill he hass a goot
+memory.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the nerve of him!&rdquo; cried Whitehall, &ldquo;tryin'
+ter pass that off on us with Hansen sittin' right
+there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It iss one thing he may have forgot,&rdquo; smiled
+Hansen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, who cares anyway?&rdquo; said Stone. &ldquo;It
+was a blame good story. An' now clear out, all of
+you. I want to hit the bunk. Reveille does seem
+to come so early these cold mornin's. Gee! I
+wish I knew of some kind of button that would
+keep <i>me</i> lyin' down when Shorty wants me to get
+up an' call the roll.&rdquo;</p>
+<br /><br />
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="THE_SPECTER_BRIDEGROOM" id="THE_SPECTER_BRIDEGROOM"></a>THE SPECTER BRIDEGROOM</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By WASHINGTON IRVING</span></h4>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314"></a></span>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+
+
+<h2>The Specter Bridegroom</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">A Traveler's Tale</span><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br />
+<span class="smcap">By</span> WASHINGTON IRVING</h4>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">He that supper for is dight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He lyes full cold, I trow, this night!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yestreen to chamber I him led,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This night Gray-Steel has made his bed.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<center><span class="smcap">Sir Eger, Sir Grahame, and Sir Gray-Steel.</span></center>
+
+
+
+<p>On the summit of one of the heights of the Odenwald,
+a wild and romantic tract of Upper Germany,
+that lies not far from the confluence of the
+Main and the Rhine, there stood, many, many
+years since, the Castle of the Baron Von Landshort.
+It is now quite fallen to decay, and almost
+buried among beech trees and dark firs; above
+which, however, its old watch tower may still be
+seen, struggling, like the former possessor I have
+mentioned, to carry a high head, and look down
+upon the neighboring country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The baron was a dry branch of the great family
+of Katzenellenbogen,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and inherited the relics of
+the property, and all the pride of his ancestors.
+Though the warlike disposition of his predecessors
+had much impaired the family possessions, yet the
+baron still endeavored to keep up some show of
+former state. The times were peaceable, and the
+German nobles, in general, had abandoned their
+inconvenient old castles, perched like eagles' nests
+among the mountains, and had built more convenient
+residences in the valleys; still the baron
+remained proudly drawn up in his little fortress,
+cherishing with hereditary inveteracy, all the old
+family feuds; so that he was on ill terms with some
+of his nearest neighbors, on account of disputes
+that had happened between their great-great-grandfathers.</p>
+
+<p>The baron had but one child, a daughter; but
+nature, when she grants but one child, always
+compensates by making it a prodigy; and so it was
+with the daughter of the baron. All the nurses,
+gossips, and country cousins assured her father
+that she had not her equal for beauty in all Germany;
+and who should know better than they?
+She had, moreover, been brought up with great
+care under the superintendence of two maiden
+aunts, who had spent some years of their early life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>
+at one of the little German courts, and were skilled
+in all branches of knowledge necessary to the education
+of a fine lady. Under their instructions
+she became a miracle of accomplishments. By
+the time she was eighteen, she could embroider to
+admiration, and had worked whole histories of
+the saints in tapestry, with such strength of expression
+in their countenances, that they looked
+like so many souls in purgatory. She could read
+without great difficulty, and had spelled her way
+through several church legends, and almost all the
+chivalric wonders of the Heldenbuch. She had
+even made considerable proficiency in writing;
+could sign her own name without missing a letter,
+and so legibly, that her aunts could read it without
+spectacles. She excelled in making little elegant
+good-for-nothing lady-like nicknacks of all kinds;
+was versed in the most abstruse dancing of the
+day; played a number of airs on the harp and
+guitar; and knew all the tender ballads of the
+Minnelieders by heart.</p>
+
+<p>Her aunts, too, having been great flirts and
+coquettes in their younger days, were admirably
+calculated to be vigilant guardians and strict
+censors of the conduct of their niece; for there is
+no duenna so rigidly prudent, and inexorably
+decorous, as a superannuated coquette. She was
+rarely suffered out of their sight; never went beyond
+the domains of the castle, unless well attended,
+or rather well watched; had continual
+lectures read to her about strict decorum and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>
+implicit obedience; and, as to the men&mdash;pah!&mdash;she
+was taught to hold them at such a distance,
+and in such absolute distrust, that, unless properly
+authorized, she would not have cast a glance upon
+the handsomest cavalier in the world&mdash;no, not
+if he were even dying at her feet.</p>
+
+<p>The good effects of this system were wonderfully
+apparent. The young lady was a pattern of
+docility and correctness. While others were wasting
+their sweetness in the glare of the world, and
+liable to be plucked and thrown aside by every
+hand, she was coyly blooming into fresh and lovely
+womanhood under the protection of those immaculate
+spinsters, like a rosebud blushing forth among
+guardian thorns. Her aunts looked upon her with
+pride and exultation, and vaunted that though all
+the other young ladies in the world might go
+astray, yet, thank Heaven, nothing of the kind
+could happen to the heiress of Katzenellenbogen.</p>
+
+<p>But, however scantily the Baron Von Landshort
+might be provided with children, his household
+was by no means a small one; for Providence had
+enriched him with abundance of poor relations.
+They, one and all, possessed the affectionate disposition
+common to humble relatives; were wonderfully
+attached to the baron, and took every
+possible occasion to come in swarms and enliven the
+castle. All family festivals were commemorated
+by these good people at the baron's expense; and
+when they were filled with good cheer, they would
+declare that there was nothing on earth so delightful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
+as these family meetings, these jubilees of the
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>The baron, though a small man, had a large
+soul, and it swelled with satisfaction at the consciousness
+of being the greatest man in the little
+world about him. He loved to tell long stories
+about the dark old warriors whose portraits looked
+grimly down from the walls around, and he found
+no listeners equal to those that fed at his expense.
+He was much given to the marvelous, and a firm
+believer in all those supernatural tales with which
+every mountain and valley in Germany abounds.
+The faith of his guests exceeded even his own: they
+listened to every tale of wonder with open eyes
+and mouth, and never failed to be astonished, even
+though repeated for the hundredth time. Thus
+lived the Baron Von Landshort, the oracle of his
+table, the absolute monarch of his little territory,
+and happy, above all things, in the persuasion that
+he was the wisest man of the age.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of which my story treats, there was
+a great family gathering at the castle, on an affair
+of the utmost importance: it was to receive the
+destined bridegroom of the baron's daughter. A
+negotiation had been carried on between the
+father and an old nobleman of Bavaria, to unite
+the dignity of their houses by the marriage of their
+children. The preliminaries had been conducted
+with proper punctilio. The young people were
+betrothed without seeing each other, and the time
+was appointed for the marriage ceremony. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>
+young Count Von Altenburg had been recalled
+from the army for the purpose, and was actually
+on his way to the baron's to receive his bride.
+Missives had even been received from him from
+Wurtzburg, where he was accidentally detained,
+mentioning the day and hour when he might be
+expected to arrive.</p>
+
+<p>The castle was in a tumult of preparation to
+give him a suitable welcome. The fair bride had
+been decked out with uncommon care. The two
+aunts had superintended her toilet, and quarreled
+the whole morning about every article of her
+dress. The young lady had taken advantage of
+their contest to follow the bent of her own taste;
+and fortunately it was a good one. She looked as
+lovely as youthful bridegroom could desire; and
+the flutter of expectation heightened the luster
+of her charms.</p>
+
+<p>The suffusions that mantled her face and neck,
+the gentle heaving of the bosom, the eye now and
+then lost in reverie, all betrayed the soft tumult
+that was going on in her little heart. The aunts
+were continually hovering around her; for maiden
+aunts are apt to take great interest in affairs of
+this nature. They were giving her a world of
+staid counsel how to deport herself, what to say,
+and in what manner to receive the expected lover.</p>
+
+<p>The baron was no less busied in preparations.
+He had, in truth, nothing exactly to do; but he
+was naturally a fuming bustling little man, and
+could not remain passive when all the world was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>
+in a hurry. He worried from top to bottom of the
+castle with an air of infinite anxiety; he continually
+called the servants from their work to exhort
+them to be diligent; and buzzed about every hall
+and chamber, as idly restless and importunate as
+a blue-bottle fly on a warm summer's day.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime the fatted calf had been killed;
+the forests had rung with the clamor of the huntsmen;
+the kitchen was crowded with good cheer;
+the cellars had yielded up whole oceans of <i>Rheinwein</i>
+and <i>Fernewein</i>; and even the great Heidelberg
+tun had been laid under contribution.
+Everything was ready to receive the distinguished
+guest with <i>Saus und Braus</i> in the true spirit of
+German hospitality&mdash;but the guest delayed to
+make his appearance. Hour rolled after hour.
+The sun, that had poured his downward rays upon
+the rich forest of the Odenwald, now just gleamed
+along the summits of the mountains. The baron
+mounted the highest tower, and strained his eyes
+in hope of catching a distant sight of the count
+and his attendants. Once he thought he beheld
+them; the sounds of horns came floating from the
+valley, prolonged by the mountain echoes. A
+number of horsemen were seen far below, slowly
+advancing along the road; but when they had
+nearly reached the foot of the mountain, they
+suddenly struck off in a different direction. The
+last ray of sunshine departed&mdash;the bats began to
+flit by in the twilight&mdash;the road grew dimmer and
+dimmer to the view; and nothing appeared stirring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span>
+in it but now and then a peasant lagging homeward
+from his labor.</p>
+
+<p>While the old castle at Landshort was in this
+state of perplexity, a very interesting scene was
+transacting in a different part of the Odenwald.</p>
+
+<p>The young Count Von Altenburg was tranquilly
+pursuing his route in that sober jog-trot way in
+which a man travels toward matrimony when his
+friends have taken all the trouble and uncertainty
+of courtship off his hands, and a bride is waiting
+for him, as certainly as a dinner at the end of his
+journey. He had encountered at Wurtzburg a
+youthful companion in arms with whom he had
+seen some service on the frontiers: Herman Von
+Starkenfaust, one of the stoutest hands and
+worthiest hearts of German chivalry, who was
+now returning from the army. His father's
+castle was not far distant from the old fortress of
+Landshort, although an hereditary feud rendered
+the families hostile, and strangers to each other.</p>
+
+<p>In the warm-hearted moment of recognition,
+the young friends related all their past adventures
+and fortunes, and the count gave the whole
+history of his intended nuptials with a young
+lady whom he had never seen, but of whose
+charms he had received the most enrapturing
+descriptions.</p>
+
+<p>As the route of the friends lay in the same direction,
+they agreed to perform the rest of their
+journey together; and, that they might do it the
+more leisurely, set off from Wurtzburg at an early<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span>
+hour, the count having given directions for his
+retinue to follow and overtake him.</p>
+
+<p>They beguiled their wayfaring with recollections
+of their military scenes and adventures; but
+the count was apt to be a little tedious, now and
+then, about the reputed charms of his bride and
+the felicity that awaited him.</p>
+
+<p>In this way they had entered among the mountains
+of the Odenwald, and were traversing one of
+its most lonely and thickly wooded passes. It is
+well known that the forests of Germany have
+always been as much infested by robbers as its
+castles by specters; and at this time the former
+were particularly numerous, from the hordes of
+disbanded soldiers wandering about the country.
+It will not appear extraordinary, therefore, that
+the cavaliers were attacked by a gang of these
+stragglers, in the midst of the forest. They defended
+themselves with bravery, but were nearly
+overpowered, when the count's retinue arrived
+to their assistance. At sight of them the robbers
+fled, but not until the count had received a mortal
+wound. He was slowly and carefully conveyed
+back to the city of Wurtzburg, and a friar summoned
+from a neighboring convent who was
+famous for his skill in administering to both soul
+and body; but half of his skill was superfluous; the
+moments of the unfortunate count were numbered.</p>
+
+<p>With his dying breath he entreated his friend
+to repair instantly to the castle of Landshort, and
+explain the fatal cause of his not keeping his appointment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>
+with his bride. Though not the most
+ardent of lovers, he was one of the most punctilious
+of men, and appeared earnestly solicitous that
+his mission should be speedily and courteously
+executed. &ldquo;Unless this is done,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I shall
+not sleep quietly in my grave!&rdquo; He repeated
+these last words with peculiar solemnity. A request,
+at a moment so impressive, admitted no
+hesitation. Starkenfaust endeavored to soothe
+him to calmness; promised faithfully to execute
+his wish, and gave him his hand in solemn pledge.
+The dying man pressed it in acknowledgment,
+but soon lapsed into delirium&mdash;raved about his
+bride&mdash;his engagements&mdash;his plighted word;
+ordered his horse, that he might ride to the castle
+of Landshort; and expired in the fancied act of
+vaulting into the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>Starkenfaust bestowed a sigh and a soldier's
+tear on the untimely fate of his comrade, and then
+pondered on the awkward mission he had undertaken.
+His heart was heavy, and his head perplexed;
+for he was to present himself an unbidden
+guest among hostile people, and to damp their
+festivity with tidings fatal to their hopes. Still,
+there were certain whisperings of curiosity in his
+bosom to see this far-famed beauty of Katzenellenbogen,
+so cautiously shut up from the world; for
+he was a passionate admirer of the sex, and there
+was a dash of eccentricity and enterprise in his
+character that made him fond of all singular
+adventure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Previous to his departure he made all due arrangements
+with the holy fraternity of the convent
+for the funeral solemnities of his friend,
+who was to be buried in the cathedral of Wurtzburg
+near some of his illustrious relatives; and
+the mourning retinue of the count took charge of
+his remains.</p>
+
+<p>It is now high time that we should return to the
+ancient family of Katzenellenbogen, who were
+impatient for their guest, and still more for their
+dinner; and to the worthy little baron, whom we
+left airing himself on the watch-tower.</p>
+
+<p>Night closed in, but still no guest arrived. The
+baron descended from the tower in despair. The
+banquet, which had been delayed from hour to
+hour, could no longer be postponed. The meats
+were already overdone; the cook in an agony;
+and the whole household had the look of a garrison
+that had been reduced by famine. The baron
+was obliged reluctantly to give orders for the feast
+without the presence of the guest. All were
+seated at table, and just on the point of commencing,
+when the sound of a horn from without the
+gate gave notice of the approach of a stranger.
+Another long blast filled the old courts of the castle
+with its echoes, and was answered by the warder
+from the walls. The baron hastened to receive
+his future son-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>The drawbridge had been let down, and the
+stranger was before the gate. He was a tall,
+gallant cavalier mounted on a black steed. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>
+countenance was pale, but he had a beaming,
+romantic eye, and an air of stately melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>The baron was a little mortified that he should
+have come in this simple, solitary style. His
+dignity for a moment was ruffled, and he felt disposed
+to consider it a want of proper respect for
+the important occasion, and the important family
+with which he was to be connected. He pacified
+himself, however, with the conclusion, that it must
+have been youthful impatience which had induced
+him thus to spur on sooner than his attendants.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am sorry,&rdquo; said the stranger, &ldquo;to break in
+upon you thus unseasonably&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Here the baron interrupted with a world of
+compliments and greetings; for, to tell the truth,
+he prided himself upon his courtesy and eloquence.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger attempted, once or twice, to stem
+the torrent of words, but in vain, so he bowed his
+head and suffered it to flow on. By the time the
+baron had come to a pause, they had reached the
+inner court of the castle; and the stranger was
+again about to speak, when he was once more interrupted
+by the appearance of the female part of
+the family leading forth the shrinking and blushing
+bride. He gazed on her for a moment as one
+entranced; it seemed as if his whole soul beamed
+forth in the gaze, and rested upon that lovely form.
+One of the maiden aunts whispered something in
+her ear; she made an effort to speak; her moist
+blue eye was timidly raised; gave a shy glance of
+inquiry on the stranger; and was cast again to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>
+ground. The words died away; but there was a
+sweet smile playing about her lips, and a soft
+dimpling of the cheek that showed her glance had
+not been unsatisfactory. It was impossible for a
+girl of the fond age of eighteen, highly predisposed
+for love and matrimony, not to be pleased with so
+gallant a cavalier.</p>
+
+<p>The late hour at which the guest had arrived
+left no time for parley. The baron was peremptory,
+and deferred all particular conversation until
+the morning, and led the way to the untasted
+banquet.</p>
+
+<p>It was served up in the great hall of the castle.
+Around the walls hung the hard-favored portraits
+of the heroes of the house of Katzenellenbogen, and
+the trophies which they had gained in the field
+and in the chase. Hacked corselets, splintered
+jousting spears, and tattered banners were mingled
+with the spoils of sylvan warfare; the jaws of the
+wolf and the tusks of the boar grinned horribly
+among cross-bows and battle-axes, and a huge
+pair of antlers branched immediately over the
+head of the youthful bridegroom.</p>
+
+<p>The cavalier took but little notice of the company
+or the entertainment. He scarcely tasted
+the banquet, but seemed absorbed in admiration
+of his bride. He conversed in a low tone that could
+not be overheard&mdash;for the language of love is
+never loud; but where is the female ear so dull
+that it cannot catch the softest whisper of the
+lover? There was a mingled tenderness and gravity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>
+in his manner, that appeared to have a powerful
+effect upon the young lady. Her color came
+and went as she listened with deep attention.
+Now and then she made some blushing reply, and
+when his eye was turned away, she would steal a
+sidelong glance at his romantic countenance and
+heave a gentle sigh of tender happiness. It was
+evident that the young couple were completely
+enamored. The aunts, who were deeply versed
+in the mysteries of the heart, declared that they
+had fallen in love with each other at first sight.</p>
+
+<p>The feast went on merrily, or at least noisily,
+for the guests were all blessed with those keen
+appetites that attend upon light purses and mountain
+air. The baron told his best and longest
+stories, and never had he told them so well, or
+with such great effect. If there was anything
+marvelous, his auditors were lost in astonishment;
+and if anything facetious, they were sure to
+laugh exactly in the right place. The baron, it is
+true, like most great men, was too dignified to
+utter any joke but a dull one; it was always enforced,
+however, by a bumper of excellent Hockheimer;
+and even a dull joke, at one's own table,
+served up with jolly old wine, is irresistible. Many
+good things were said by poorer and keener wits
+that would not bear repeating, except on similar
+occasions; many sly speeches whispered in ladies'
+ears, that almost convulsed them with suppressed
+laughter; and a song or two roared out by a poor,
+but merry and broad-faced cousin of the baron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>
+that absolutely made the maiden aunts hold up
+their fans.</p>
+
+<p>Amidst all this revelry, the stranger guest maintained
+a most singular and unseasonable gravity.
+His countenance assumed a deeper cast of dejection
+as the evening advanced; and, strange as it
+may appear, even the baron's jokes seemed only
+to render him the more melancholy. At times he
+was lost in thought, and at times there was a perturbed
+and restless wandering of the eye that
+bespoke a mind but ill at ease. His conversations
+with the bride became more and more earnest and
+mysterious. Lowering clouds began to steal over
+the fair serenity of her brow, and tremors to run
+through her tender frame.</p>
+
+<p>All this could not escape the notice of the company.
+Their gayety was chilled by the unaccountable
+gloom of the bridegroom; their spirits were
+infected; whispers and glances were interchanged,
+accompanied by shrugs and dubious shakes of the
+head. The song and the laugh grew less and less
+frequent; there were dreary pauses in the conversation,
+which were at length succeeded by wild tales
+and supernatural legends. One dismal story produced
+another still more dismal, and the baron
+nearly frightened some of the ladies into hysterics
+with the history of the goblin horseman that carried
+away the fair Leonora; a dreadful story
+which has since been put into excellent verse, and
+is read and believed by all the world.</p>
+
+<p>The bridegroom listened to this tale with profound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>
+attention. He kept his eyes steadily fixed
+on the baron, and, as the story drew to a close,
+began gradually to rise from his seat, growing
+taller and taller, until, in the baron's entranced
+eye, he seemed almost to tower into a giant. The
+moment the tale was finished, he heaved a deep
+sigh and took a solemn farewell of the company.
+They were all amazement. The baron was perfectly
+thunder-struck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What! going to leave the castle at midnight?
+Why, everything was prepared for his reception; a
+chamber was ready for him if he wished to retire.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The stranger shook his head mournfully and
+mysteriously; &ldquo;I must lay my head in a different
+chamber to-night!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was something in this reply, and the tone
+in which it was uttered, that made the baron's
+heart misgive him; but he rallied his forces and
+repeated his hospitable entreaties.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger shook his head silently, but positively,
+at every offer; and, waving his farewell
+to the company, stalked slowly out of the
+hall. The maiden aunts were absolutely petrified&mdash;the
+bride hung her head, and a tear stole to her
+eye.</p>
+
+<p>The baron followed the stranger to the great
+court of the castle, where the black charger stood
+pawing the earth and snorting with impatience.
+When they had reached the portal, whose deep
+archway was dimly lighted by a cresset, the
+stranger paused, and addressed the baron in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>
+hollow tone of voice which the vaulted roof rendered
+still more sepulchral.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now that we are alone,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I will impart
+to you the reason of my going. I have a solemn,
+an indispensable engagement&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said the baron, &ldquo;cannot you send someone
+in your place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It admits of no substitute&mdash;I must attend it
+in person&mdash;I must away to Wurtzburg cathedral&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; said the baron, plucking up spirit, &ldquo;but
+not until to-morrow&mdash;to-morrow you shall take
+your bride there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! no!&rdquo; replied the stranger, with tenfold
+solemnity, &ldquo;my engagement is with no bride&mdash;the
+worms! the worms expect me! I am a dead
+man&mdash;I have been slain by robbers&mdash;my body lies
+at Wurtzburg&mdash;at midnight I am to be buried&mdash;the
+grave is waiting for me&mdash;I must keep my
+appointment!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He sprang on his black charger, dashed over the
+drawbridge, and the clattering of his horses' hoofs
+was lost in the whistling of the night blast.</p>
+
+<p>The baron returned to the hall in the utmost
+consternation, and related what had passed. Two
+ladies fainted outright, others sickened at the idea
+of having banqueted with a specter. It was the
+opinion of some, that this might be the wild huntsman,
+famous in German legend. Some talked of
+mountain sprites, of wood-demons, and of other
+supernatural beings, with which the good people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span>
+of Germany have been so grievously harassed since
+time immemorial. One of the poor relations ventured
+to suggest that it might be some sportive
+evasion of the young cavalier, and that the very
+gloominess of the caprice seemed to accord with
+so melancholy a personage. This, however, drew
+on him the indignation of the whole company, and
+especially of the baron, who looked upon him as
+little better than an infidel; so that he was fain to
+abjure his heresy as speedily as possible, and come
+into the faith of the true believers.</p>
+
+<p>But whatever may have been the doubts entertained,
+they were completely put to an end by the
+arrival, next day, of regular missives confirming
+the intelligence of the young count's murder, and
+his interment in Wurtzburg cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>The dismay at the castle may well be imagined.
+The baron shut himself up in his chamber. The
+guests, who had come to rejoice with him, could
+not think of abandoning him in his distress. They
+wandered about the courts, or collected in groups
+in the hall, shaking their heads and shrugging
+their shoulders at the troubles of so good a man;
+and sat longer than ever at table, and ate and
+drank more stoutly than ever, by way of keeping
+up their spirits. But the situation of the widowed
+bride was the most pitiable. To have lost a husband
+before she had even embraced him&mdash;and
+such a husband! if the very specter could be so
+gracious and noble, what must have been the living
+man! She filled the house with lamentations.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>On the night of the second day of her widowhood,
+she had retired to her chamber, accompanied
+by one of her aunts who insisted on sleeping with
+her. The aunt, who was one of the best tellers
+of ghost stories in all Germany, had just been
+recounting one of her longest, and had fallen
+asleep in the very midst of it. The chamber was
+remote, and overlooked a small garden. The
+niece lay pensively gazing at the beams of the
+rising moon, as they trembled on the leaves of
+an aspen-tree before the lattice. The castle-clock
+had just tolled midnight, when a soft strain of
+music stole up from the garden. She rose hastily
+from her bed, and stepped lightly to the window.
+A tall figure stood among the shadows of the trees.
+As it raised its head, a beam of moonlight fell upon
+the countenance. Heaven and earth! she beheld
+the Specter Bridegroom! A loud shriek at that
+moment burst upon her ear, and her aunt, who
+had been awakened by the music, and had followed
+her silently to the window, fell into her arms.
+When she looked again, the specter had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Of the two females, the aunt now required the
+most soothing, for she was perfectly beside herself
+with terror. As to the young lady, there was
+something, even in the specter of her lover, that
+seemed endearing. There was still the semblance
+of manly beauty; and though the shadow of a man
+is but little calculated to satisfy the affections of a
+love-sick girl, yet, where the substance is not to be
+had, even that is consoling. The aunt declared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span>
+she would never sleep in that chamber again; the
+niece, for once, was refractory, and declared as
+strongly that she would sleep in no other in the
+castle: the consequence was, that she had to sleep
+in it alone: but she drew a promise from her aunt
+not to relate the story of the specter, lest she
+should be denied the only melancholy pleasure
+left her on earth&mdash;that of inhabiting the chamber
+over which the guardian shade of her lover kept
+its nightly vigils.</p>
+
+<p>How long the good old lady would have observed
+this promise is uncertain, for she dearly
+loved to talk of the marvelous, and there is a
+triumph in being the first to tell a frightful story;
+it is, however, still quoted in the neighborhood, as
+a memorable instance of female secrecy, that she
+kept it to herself for a whole week; when she was
+suddenly absolved from all further restraint, by
+intelligence, brought to the breakfast table one
+morning, that the young lady was not to be
+found. Her room was empty&mdash;the bed had not
+been slept in&mdash;the window was open, and the bird
+had flown!</p>
+
+<p>The astonishment and concern with which the
+intelligence was received, can only be imagined
+by those who have witnessed the agitation which
+the mishaps of a great man cause among his
+friends. Even the poor relations paused for a
+moment from the indefatigable labors of the
+trencher, when the aunt, who had at first been
+struck speechless, wrung her hands, and shrieked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span>
+out, &ldquo;The goblin! the goblin! She's carried away
+by the goblin!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a few words she related the fearful scene of
+the garden, and concluded that the specter must
+have carried off his bride. Two of the domestics
+corroborated the opinion, for they had heard the
+clattering of a horse's hoofs down the mountain
+about midnight, and had no doubt that it was the
+specter on his black charger, bearing her away to
+the tomb. All present were struck with the direful
+probability; for events of the kind are extremely
+common in Germany, as many well-authenticated
+histories bear witness.</p>
+
+<p>What a lamentable situation was that of the
+poor baron! What a heart-rending dilemma for a
+fond father, and a member of the great family of
+Katzenellenbogen! His only daughter had either
+been rapt away to the grave, or he was to have
+some wood-demon for a son-in-law, and, perchance,
+a troop of goblin grandchildren. As
+usual, he was completely bewildered and all the
+castle in an uproar. The men were ordered to take
+horse, and scour every road and path and glen of
+the Odenwald. The baron himself had just drawn
+on his jack-boots, girded on his sword, and was
+about to mount his steed to sally forth on the
+doubtful quest, when he was brought to a pause
+by a new apparition. A lady was seen approaching
+the castle, mounted on a palfrey, attended by
+a cavalier on horseback. She galloped up to the
+gate, sprang from her horse, and falling at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span>
+baron's feet, embraced his knees. It was his lost
+daughter, and her companion&mdash;the Specter Bridegroom!
+The baron was astounded. He looked
+at his daughter, then at the specter, and almost
+doubted the evidence of his senses. The latter,
+too, was wonderfully improved in his appearance
+since his visit to the world of spirits. His dress
+was splendid, and set off a noble figure of manly
+symmetry. He was no longer pale and melancholy.
+His fine countenance was flushed with the
+glow of youth, and joy rioted in his large dark eye.</p>
+
+<p>The mystery was soon cleared up. The cavalier
+(for in truth, as you must have known all the
+while, he was no goblin) announced himself as Sir
+Herman Von Starkenfaust. He related his adventure
+with the young count. He told how he
+had hastened to the castle to deliver the unwelcome
+tidings, but that the eloquence of the baron
+had interrupted him in every attempt to tell his
+tale. How the sight of the bride had completely
+captivated him, and that to pass a few hours near
+her, he had tacitly suffered the mistake to continue.
+How he had been sorely perplexed in what
+way to make a decent retreat, until the baron's
+goblin stories had suggested his eccentric exit.
+How, fearing the feudal hostility of the family, he
+had repeated his visits by stealth&mdash;had haunted
+the garden beneath the young lady's window&mdash;had
+wooed&mdash;had won&mdash;had borne away in triumph&mdash;and,
+in a word, had wedded the fair.</p>
+
+<p>Under any other circumstances the baron would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span>
+have been inflexible, for he was tenacious of paternal
+authority, and devoutly obstinate in all
+family feuds; but he loved his daughter; he had
+lamented her as lost; he rejoiced to find her still
+alive; and, though her husband was of a hostile
+house, yet, thank Heaven, he was not a goblin.
+There was something, it must be acknowledged,
+that did not exactly accord with his notions of
+strict veracity, in the joke the knight had passed
+upon him of his being a dead man; but several old
+friends present, who had served in the wars, assured
+him that every stratagem was excusable in
+love, and that the cavalier was entitled to especial
+privilege, having lately served as a trooper.</p>
+
+<p>Matters, therefore, were happily arranged. The
+baron pardoned the young couple on the spot.
+The revels at the castle were resumed. The poor
+relations overwhelmed this new member of the
+family with loving kindness; he was so gallant, so
+generous&mdash;and so rich. The aunts, it is true, were
+somewhat scandalized that their system of strict
+seclusion and passive obedience should be so badly
+exemplified, but attributed it all to their negligence
+in not having the windows grated. One of
+them was particularly mortified at having her
+marvelous story marred, and that the only
+specter she had ever seen should turn out a counterfeit;
+but the niece seemed perfectly happy at
+having found him substantial flesh and blood&mdash;and
+so the story ends.</p>
+
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> The erudite reader, well versed in good-for-nothing lore, will
+perceive that the above Tale must have been suggested to the old
+Swiss by a little French anecdote, a circumstance said to have
+taken place at Paris.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <i>I. e.</i>, <span class="smcap">Cat's-Elbow</span>. The name of a family of those parts
+very powerful in former times. The appellation, we are told,
+was given in compliment to a peerless dame of the family,
+celebrated for her fine arm.</p></div>
+</div>
+<br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338"></a></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p>
+<h3><a name="THE_SPECTER_OF_TAPPINGTON" id="THE_SPECTER_OF_TAPPINGTON"></a>THE SPECTER OF TAPPINGTON</h3>
+<h4><span class="smcap">Compiled by</span> RICHARD BARHAM</h4>
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340"></a></span>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<h2>The Specter of Tappington</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p>
+<h4>From <i>The Ingoldsby Legends</i><br />
+<span class="smcap">Compiled by</span> RICHARD BARHAM</h4>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is very odd, though; what can have become
+of them?&rdquo; said Charles Seaforth, as he peeped
+under the valance of an old-fashioned bedstead,
+in an old-fashioned apartment of a still more old-fashioned
+manor-house; &ldquo;'tis confoundedly odd,
+and I can't make it out at all. Why, Barney,
+where are they?&mdash;and where the d&mdash;&mdash;l are you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No answer was returned to this appeal; and the
+lieutenant, who was, in the main, a reasonable
+person&mdash;at least as reasonable a person as any
+young gentleman of twenty-two in &ldquo;the service&rdquo;
+can fairly be expected to be&mdash;cooled when he reflected
+that his servant could scarcely reply
+extempore to a summons which it was impossible
+he should hear.</p>
+
+<p>An application to the bell was the considerate
+result; and the footsteps of as tight a lad as ever
+put pipe-clay to belt sounded along the gallery.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in!&rdquo; said his master. An ineffectual
+attempt upon the door reminded Mr. Seaforth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>
+that he had locked himself in. &ldquo;By Heaven! this
+is the oddest thing of all,&rdquo; said he, as he turned
+the key and admitted Mr. Maguire into his
+dormitory.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Barney, where are my pantaloons?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it the breeches?&rdquo; asked the valet, casting
+an inquiring eye round the apartment;&mdash;&ldquo;is it the
+breeches, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, what have you done with them?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure then your honor had them on when you
+went to bed, and it's hereabouts they'll be, I'll be
+bail&rdquo;; and Barney lifted a fashionable tunic from
+a cane-backed arm-chair, proceeding in his examination.
+But the search was vain; there was
+the tunic aforesaid, there was a smart-looking
+kerseymere waistcoat; but the most important
+article of all in a gentleman's wardrobe was still
+wanting.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where <i>can</i> they be?&rdquo; asked the master, with a
+strong accent on the auxiliary verb.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sorrow a know I knows,&rdquo; said the man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It <i>must</i> have been the devil, then, after all,
+who has been here and carried them off!&rdquo; cried
+Seaforth, staring full into Barney's face.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Maguire was not devoid of the superstition
+of his countrymen, still he looked as if he did not
+quite subscribe to the <i>sequitur</i>.</p>
+
+<p>His master read incredulity in his countenance.
+&ldquo;Why, I tell you, Barney, I put them there, on
+that arm-chair, when I got into bed; and, by
+Heaven! I distinctly saw the ghost of the old fellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span>
+they told me of, come in at midnight, put on
+my pantaloons, and walk away with them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;May be so,&rdquo; was the cautious reply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I thought, of course, it was a dream; but then&mdash;where
+the d&mdash;&mdash;l are the breeches?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The question was more easily asked than answered.
+Barney renewed his search, while the
+lieutenant folded his arms, and, leaning against
+the toilet, sunk into a reverie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;After all, it must be some trick of my laughter-loving
+cousins,&rdquo; said Seaforth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! then, the ladies!&rdquo; chimed in Mr. Maguire,
+though the observation was not addressed to him;
+&ldquo;and will it be Miss Caroline or Miss Fanny,
+that's stole your honor's things?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hardly know what to think of it,&rdquo; pursued
+the bereaved lieutenant, still speaking in soliloquy,
+with his eye resting dubiously on the chamber-door.
+&ldquo;I locked myself in, that's certain; and&mdash;but
+there must be some other entrance to the room&mdash;pooh!
+I remember&mdash;the private staircase; how
+could I be such a fool?&rdquo; and he crossed the chamber
+to where a low oaken doorcase was dimly
+visible in a distant corner. He paused before it.
+Nothing now interfered to screen it from observation;
+but it bore tokens of having been at some
+earlier period concealed by tapestry, remains of
+which yet clothed the walls on either side the portal.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This way they must have come,&rdquo; said Seaforth;
+&ldquo;I wish with all my heart I had caught
+them!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Och! the kittens!&rdquo; sighed Mr. Barney
+Maguire.</p>
+
+<p>But the mystery was yet as far from being
+solved as before. True, there <i>was</i> the &ldquo;other
+door&rdquo;; but then that, too, on examination, was
+even more firmly secured than the one which
+opened on the gallery&mdash;two heavy bolts on the
+inside effectually prevented any <i>coup de main</i> on
+the lieutenant's <i>bivouac</i> from that quarter. He
+was more puzzled than ever; nor did the minutest
+inspection of the walls and floor throw any light
+upon the subject: one thing only was clear&mdash;the
+breeches were gone! &ldquo;It is <i>very</i> singular,&rdquo; said
+the lieutenant.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Tappington (generally called Tapton) Everard
+is an antiquated but commodious manor-house in
+the eastern division of the county of Kent. A
+former proprietor had been high-sheriff in the
+days of Elizabeth, and many a dark and dismal
+tradition was yet extant of the licentiousness of
+his life, and the enormity of his offenses. The
+Glen, which the keeper's daughter was seen to
+enter, but never known to quit, still frowns darkly
+as of yore; while an ineradicable blood-stain on
+the oaken stair yet bids defiance to the united
+energies of soap and sand. But it is with one
+particular apartment that a deed of more especial
+atrocity is said to be connected. A stranger
+guest&mdash;so runs the legend&mdash;arrived unexpectedly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span>
+at the mansion of the &ldquo;Bad Sir Giles.&rdquo; They met
+in apparent friendship; but the ill-concealed scowl
+on their master's brow told the domestics that
+the visit was not a welcome one; the banquet,
+however, was not spared; the wine-cup circulated
+freely&mdash;too freely, perhaps&mdash;for sounds of discord
+at length reached the ears of even the excluded
+serving-men, as they were doing their best to
+imitate their betters in the lower hall. Alarmed,
+some of them ventured to approach the parlor,
+one, an old and favored retainer of the house, went
+so far as to break in upon his master's privacy.
+Sir Giles, already high in oath, fiercely enjoined
+his absence, and he retired; not, however, before
+he had distinctly heard from the stranger's lips
+a menace that &ldquo;there was that within his pocket
+which could disprove the knight's right to issue
+that or any other command within the walls of
+Tapton.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The intrusion, though momentary, seemed to
+have produced a beneficial effect; the voices of the
+disputants fell, and the conversation was carried
+on thenceforth in a more subdued tone, till, as
+evening closed in, the domestics, when summoned
+to attend with lights, found not only cordiality
+restored, but that a still deeper carouse was meditated.
+Fresh stoups, and from the choicest bins,
+were produced; nor was it till at a late, or rather
+early hour, that the revelers sought their
+chambers.</p>
+
+<p>The one allotted to the stranger occupied the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>
+first floor of the eastern angle of the building, and
+had once been the favorite apartment of Sir Giles
+himself. Scandal ascribed this preference to the
+facility which a private staircase, communicating
+with the grounds, had afforded him, in the old
+knight's time, of following his wicked courses
+unchecked by parental observation; a consideration
+which ceased to be of weight when the death
+of his father left him uncontrolled master of his
+estate and actions. From that period Sir Giles
+had established himself in what were called the
+&ldquo;state apartments,&rdquo; and the &ldquo;oaken chamber&rdquo;
+was rarely tenanted, save on occasions of extraordinary
+festivity, or when the yule log drew an
+unusually large accession of guests around the
+Christmas hearth.</p>
+
+<p>On this eventful night it was prepared for the
+unknown visitor, who sought his couch heated and
+inflamed from his midnight orgies, and in the
+morning was found in his bed a swollen and
+blackened corpse. No marks of violence appeared
+upon the body; but the livid hue of the lips, and
+certain dark-colored spots visible on the skin,
+aroused suspicions which those who entertained
+them were too timid to express. Apoplexy, induced
+by the excesses of the preceding night, Sir
+Giles's confidential leech pronounced to be the
+cause of his sudden dissolution. The body was
+buried in peace; and though some shook their heads
+as they witnessed the haste with which the funeral
+rites were hurried on, none ventured to murmur.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span>
+Other events arose to distract the attention of the
+retainers; men's minds became occupied by the
+stirring politics of the day; while the near approach
+of that formidable armada, so vainly arrogating
+itself a title which the very elements joined with
+human valor to disprove, soon interfered to
+weaken, if not obliterate, all remembrance of the
+nameless stranger who had died within the walls
+of Tapton Everard.</p>
+
+<p>Years rolled on: the &ldquo;Bad Sir Giles&rdquo; had himself
+long since gone to his account, the last, as it
+was believed, of his immediate line; though a few
+of the older tenants were sometimes heard to speak
+of an elder brother, who had disappeared in early
+life, and never inherited the estate. Rumors, too,
+of his having left a son in foreign lands, were at
+one time rife; but they died away, nothing occurring
+to support them: the property passed unchallenged
+to a collateral branch of the family,
+and the secret, if secret there were, was buried in
+Denton churchyard, in the lonely grave of the
+mysterious stranger. One circumstance alone
+occurred, after a long-intervening period, to revive
+the memory of these transactions. Some workmen
+employed in grubbing an old plantation,
+for the purpose of raising on its site a modern
+shrubbery, dug up, in the execution of their task,
+the mildewed remnants of what seemed to have
+been once a garment. On more minute inspection,
+enough remained of silken slashes and a coarse
+embroidery, to identify the relics as having once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span>
+formed part of a pair of trunk hose; while a few
+papers which fell from them, altogether illegible
+from damp and age, were by the unlearned rustics
+conveyed to the then owner of the estate.</p>
+
+<p>Whether the squire was more successful in deciphering
+them was never known; he certainly
+never alluded to their contents; and little would
+have been thought of the matter but for the inconvenient
+memory of one old woman, who declared
+she heard her grandfather say, that when
+the &ldquo;strange guest&rdquo; was poisoned, though all the
+rest of his clothes were there, his breeches, the
+supposed repository of the supposed documents,
+could never be found. The master of Tapton
+Everard smiled when he heard Dame Jones's hint
+of deeds which might impeach the validity of his
+own title in favor of some unknown descendant of
+some unknown heir; and the story was rarely
+alluded to, save by one or two miracle-mongers,
+who had heard that others had seen the ghost of
+old Sir Giles, in his night-cap, issue from the
+postern, enter the adjoining copse, and wring
+his shadowy hands in agony, as he seemed to
+search vainly for something hidden among the
+evergreens. The stranger's death-room had, of
+course, been occasionally haunted from the time
+of his decease; but the periods of visitation had
+latterly become very rare&mdash;even Mrs. Botherby,
+the housekeeper, being forced to admit that, during
+her long sojourn at the manor, she had never
+&ldquo;met with anything worse than herself&rdquo;; though,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span>
+as the old lady afterwards added upon more mature
+reflection, &ldquo;I must say I think I saw the devil
+<i>once</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Such was the legend attached to Tapton
+Everard, and such the story which the lively
+Caroline Ingoldsby detailed to her equally mercurial
+cousin, Charles Seaforth, lieutenant in the
+Hon. East India Company's second regiment of
+Bombay Fencibles, as arm-in-arm they promenaded
+a gallery decked with some dozen grim-looking
+ancestral portraits, and, among others,
+with that of the redoubted Sir Giles himself.
+The gallant commander had that very morning
+paid his first visit to the house of his maternal
+uncle, after an absence of several years passed
+with his regiment on the arid plains of Hindostan,
+whence he was now returned on a three years'
+furlough. He had gone out a boy&mdash;he returned a
+man; but the impression made upon his youthful
+fancy by his favorite cousin remained unimpaired,
+and to Tapton he directed his steps, even before he
+sought the home of his widowed mother&mdash;comforting
+himself in this breach of filial decorum by
+the reflection that, as the manor was so little out
+of his way, it would be unkind to pass, as it were,
+the door of his relatives, without just looking in
+for a few hours.</p>
+
+<p>But he found his uncle as hospitable, and his
+cousin more charming than ever; and the looks of
+one, and the requests of the other, soon precluded
+the possibility of refusing to lengthen the &ldquo;few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span>
+hours&rdquo; into a few days, though the house was at
+the moment full of visitors.</p>
+
+<p>The Peterses were from Ramsgate; and Mr.,
+Mrs., and the two Miss Simpkinsons, from Bath,
+had come to pass a month with the family; and
+Tom Ingoldsby had brought down his college
+friend the Honorable Augustus Sucklethumbkin,
+with his groom and pointers, to take a fortnight's
+shooting. And then there was Mrs. Ogleton, the
+rich young widow, with her large black eyes, who,
+people did say, was setting her cap at the young
+squire, though Mrs. Botherby did not believe it;
+and, above all, there was Mademoiselle Pauline,
+her <i>femme de chambre</i>, who &ldquo;<i>mon-Dieu'd</i>&rdquo; everything
+and everybody, and cried &ldquo;<i>Quel horreur!</i>&rdquo;
+at Mrs. Botherby's cap. In short, to use the last-named
+and much-respected lady's own expression,
+the house was &ldquo;choke-full&rdquo; to the very attics&mdash;all
+save the &ldquo;oaken chamber,&rdquo; which, as the
+lieutenant expressed a most magnanimous disregard
+of ghosts, was forthwith appropriated to his
+particular accommodation. Mr. Maguire meanwhile
+was fain to share the apartment of Oliver
+Dobbs, the squire's own man; a jocular proposal
+of joint occupancy having been first indignantly
+rejected by &ldquo;Mademoiselle,&rdquo; though preferred
+with the &ldquo;laste taste in life&rdquo; of Mr. Barney's most
+insinuating brogue.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, Charles, the urn is absolutely getting
+cold; your breakfast will be quite spoiled: what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span>
+can have made you so idle?&rdquo; Such was the morning
+salutation of Miss Ingoldsby to the <i>militaire</i>
+as he entered the breakfast-room half an hour after
+the latest of the party.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A pretty gentleman, truly, to make an appointment
+with,&rdquo; chimed in Miss Frances. &ldquo;What is become
+of our ramble to the rocks before breakfast?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! the young men never think of keeping a
+promise now,&rdquo; said Mrs. Peters, a little ferret-faced
+woman with underdone eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When I was a young man,&rdquo; said Mr. Peters,
+&ldquo;I remember I always made a point of&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pray, how long ago was that?&rdquo; asked Mr.
+Simpkinson from Bath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, sir, when I married Mrs. Peters, I was&mdash;let
+me see&mdash;I was&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do pray hold your tongue, P., and eat your
+breakfast!&rdquo; interrupted his better half, who had
+a mortal horror of chronological references; &ldquo;it's
+very rude to tease people with your family affairs.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant had by this time taken his seat
+in silence&mdash;a good-humored nod, and a glance,
+half-smiling, half-inquisitive, being the extent of
+his salutation. Smitten as he was, and in the
+immediate presence of her who had made so large
+a hole in his heart, his manner was evidently <i>distrait</i>,
+which the fair Caroline in her secret soul
+attributed to his being solely occupied by her
+<i>agr&egrave;mens</i>: how would she have bridled had she
+known that they only shared his meditations with
+a pair of breeches!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Charles drank his coffee and spiked some half-dozen
+eggs, darting occasionally a penetrating
+glance at the ladies, in hope of detecting the supposed
+waggery by the evidence of some furtive
+smile or conscious look. But in vain; not a dimple
+moved indicative of roguery, nor did the slightest
+elevation of eyebrow rise confirmative of his suspicions.
+Hints and insinuations passed unheeded&mdash;more
+particular inquiries were out of the question&mdash;the
+subject was unapproachable.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, &ldquo;patent cords&rdquo; were just the
+thing for a morning's ride; and, breakfast ended,
+away cantered the party over the downs, till, every
+faculty absorbed by the beauties, animate and
+inanimate, which surrounded him. Lieutenant
+Seaforth of the Bombay Fencibles bestowed no
+more thought upon his breeches than if he had
+been born on the top of Ben Lomond.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Another night had passed away; the sun rose
+brilliantly, forming with his level beams a splendid
+rainbow in the far-off west, whither the heavy
+cloud, which for the last two hours had been
+pouring its waters on the earth, was now flying
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! then, and it's little good it'll be the claning
+of ye,&rdquo; apostrophized Mr. Barney Maguire, as he
+deposited, in front of his master's toilet, a pair of
+&ldquo;bran new&rdquo; jockey boots, one of Hoby's primest
+fits, which the lieutenant had purchased in his way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span>
+through town. On that very morning had they
+come for the first time under the valet's depurating
+hand, so little soiled, indeed, from the turfy ride
+of the preceding day, that a less scrupulous domestic
+might, perhaps, have considered the application
+of &ldquo;Warren's Matchless,&rdquo; or oxalic acid, altogether
+superfluous. Not so Barney: with the
+nicest care had he removed the slightest impurity
+from each polished surface, and there they stood,
+rejoicing in their sable radiance. No wonder a
+pang shot across Mr. Maguire's breast as he
+thought on the work now cut out for them, so
+different from the light labors of the day before;
+no wonder he murmured with a sigh, as the scarce
+dried window-panes disclosed a road now inch deep
+in mud! &ldquo;Ah! then, it's little good claning of ye!&rdquo;&mdash;for
+well had he learned in the hall below that
+eight miles of a stiff clay soil lay between the manor
+and Bolsover Abbey, whose picturesque ruins,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">&ldquo;Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>the party had determined to explore. The master
+had already commenced dressing, and the man was
+fitting straps upon a light pair of crane-necked
+spurs, when his hand was arrested by the old
+question&mdash;&ldquo;Barney, where are the breeches?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They were nowhere to be found!</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Mr. Seaforth descended that morning, whip in
+hand, and equipped in a handsome green riding-frock,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span>
+but no &ldquo;breeches and boots to match&rdquo; were
+there: loose jean trousers, surmounting a pair of
+diminutive Wellingtons, embraced, somewhat incongruously,
+his nether man, <i>vice</i> the &ldquo;patent cords,&rdquo;
+returned, like yesterday's pantaloons, absent without
+leave. The &ldquo;top-boots&rdquo; had a holiday.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A fine morning after the rain,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Simpkinson from Bath.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just the thing for the 'ops,&rdquo; said Mr. Peters.
+&ldquo;I remember when I was a boy&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do hold your tongue, P.,&rdquo; said Mrs. Peters&mdash;advice
+which that exemplary matron was in the
+constant habit of administering to &ldquo;her P.&rdquo; as she
+called him, whenever he prepared to vent his
+reminiscences. Her precise reason for this it
+would be difficult to determine, unless, indeed, the
+story be true which a little bird had whispered
+into Mrs. Botherby's ear&mdash;Mr. Peters, though now
+a wealthy man had received a liberal education
+at a charity school, and was apt to recur to the
+days of his muffin-cap and leathers. As usual,
+he took his wife's hint in good part, and &ldquo;paused
+in his reply.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A glorious day for the ruins!&rdquo; said young
+Ingoldsby. &ldquo;But Charles, what the deuce are
+you about? you don't mean to ride through our
+lanes in such toggery as that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lassy me!&rdquo; said Miss Julia Simpkinson,
+&ldquo;won't yo' be very wet?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You had better take Tom's cab,&rdquo; quoth the
+squire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But this proposition was at once over-ruled;
+Mrs. Ogleton had already nailed the cab, a vehicle
+of all others the best adapted for a snug flirtation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Or drive Miss Julia in the phaeton?&rdquo; No;
+that was the post of Mr. Peters, who, indifferent
+as an equestrian, had acquired some fame as a
+whip while traveling through the midland counties
+for the firm of Bagshaw, Snivelby, and Ghrimes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, I shall ride with my cousins,&rdquo;
+said Charles, with as much <i>nonchalance</i> as he could
+assume&mdash;and he did so; Mr. Ingoldsby, Mrs.
+Peters, Mr. Simpkinson from Bath, and his eldest
+daughter with her <i>album</i>, following in the family
+coach. The gentleman-commoner &ldquo;voted the
+affair d&mdash;&mdash;d slow,&rdquo; and declined the party altogether
+in favor of the gamekeeper and a cigar.
+&ldquo;There was 'no fun' in looking at old houses!&rdquo;
+Mrs. Simpkinson preferred a short <i>s&eacute;jour</i> in the
+still-room with Mrs. Botherby, who had promised
+to initiate her in that grand <i>arcanum</i>, the transmutation
+of gooseberry jam into Guava jelly.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you ever see an old abbey before, Mrs.
+Peters?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, miss, a French one; we have got one at
+Ramsgate; he teaches the Miss Joneses to parley-voo
+and is turned of sixty.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Simpkinson closed her album with an air
+of ineffable disdain.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Simpkinson from Bath was a professed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span>
+antiquary, and one of the first water; he was
+master of Gwillim's Heraldry, and Mill's History
+of the Crusades; knew every plate in the Monasticon;
+had written an essay on the origin and dignity
+of the office of overseer, and settled the date on
+a Queen Anne's farthing. An influential member
+of the Antiquarian Society, to whose &ldquo;Beauties of
+Bagnigge Wells&rdquo; he had been a liberal subscriber,
+procured him a seat at the board of that learned
+body, since which happy epoch Sylvanus Urban
+had not a more indefatigable correspondent. His
+inaugural essay on the President's cocked hat was
+considered a miracle of erudition; and his account
+of the earliest application of gilding to gingerbread,
+a masterpiece of antiquarian research. His eldest
+daughter was of a kindred spirit: if her father's
+mantle had not fallen upon her, it was only because
+he had not thrown it off himself; she had caught
+hold of its tail, however, while it yet hung upon
+his honored shoulders. To souls so congenial,
+what a sight was the magnificent ruin of Bolsover!
+its broken arches, its mouldering pinnacles, and
+the airy tracery of its half-demolished windows.
+The party were in raptures; Mr. Simpkinson began
+to meditate an essay, and his daughter an
+ode: even Seaforth, as he gazed on these lonely
+relics of the olden time, was betrayed into a
+momentary forgetfulness of his love and losses;
+the widow's eye-glass turned from her <i>cicisbeo's</i>
+whiskers to the mantling ivy; Mrs. Peters wiped
+her spectacles; and &ldquo;her P.&rdquo; supposed the central<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span>
+tower &ldquo;had once been the county jail.&rdquo; The squire
+was a philosopher, and had been there often before,
+so he ordered out the cold tongue and chickens.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bolsover Priory,&rdquo; said Mr. Simpkinson, with
+the air of a connoisseur&mdash;&ldquo;Bolsover Priory was
+founded in the reign of Henry the Sixth, about the
+beginning of the eleventh century. Hugh de
+Bolsover had accompanied that monarch to the
+Holy Land, in the expedition undertaken by way
+of penance for the murder of his young nephews
+in the Tower. Upon the dissolution of the monasteries,
+the veteran was enfeoffed in the lands
+and manor, to which he gave his own name of
+Bowlsover, or Bee-owls-over (by corruption Bolsover)&mdash;a
+Bee in chief, over three Owls, all proper,
+being the armorial ensigns borne by this distinguished
+crusader at the siege of Acre.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! that was Sir Sidney Smith,&rdquo; said Mr.
+Peters; &ldquo;I've heard tell of him, and all about Mrs.
+Partington, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;P. be quiet, and don't expose yourself!&rdquo;
+sharply interrupted his lady. P. was silenced,
+and betook himself to the bottled stout.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These lands,&rdquo; continued the antiquary, &ldquo;were
+held in grand serjeantry by the presentation of
+three white owls and pot of honey&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lassy me! how nice!&rdquo; said Miss Julia. Mr.
+Peters licked his lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pray give me leave, my dear&mdash;owls and honey,
+whenever the king should come a rat-catching into
+this part of the country.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rat-catching!&rdquo; ejaculated the squire, pausing
+abruptly in the mastication of a drumstick.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To be sure, my dear sir; don't you remember
+the rats came under the forest laws&mdash;a minor
+species of venison? 'Rats and mice, and such
+small deer,' eh?&mdash;Shakespeare, you know. Our
+ancestors ate rats ('The nasty fellows!' shuddered
+Miss Julia, in a parenthesis); and owls, you know,
+are capital mousers&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I've seen a howl,&rdquo; said Mr. Peters; &ldquo;there's
+one in the Sohological Gardens&mdash;a little hook-nosed
+chap in a wig&mdash;only its feathers and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Poor P. was destined never to finish a speech.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Do</i> be quiet!&rdquo; cried the authoritative voice;
+and the would-be naturalist shrank into his shell,
+like a snail in the &ldquo;Sohological Gardens.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You should read Blount's <i>Jocular Tenures</i>,
+Mr. Ingoldsby,&rdquo; pursued Simpkinson. &ldquo;A learned
+man was Blount! Why, sir, His Royal Highness
+the Duke of York once paid a silver horse-shoe to
+Lord Ferrers&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I've heard of him,&rdquo; broke in the incorrigible
+Peters; &ldquo;he was hanged at the Old Bailey in a
+silk rope for shooting Dr. Johnson.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The antiquary vouchsafed no notice of the interruption;
+but, taking a pinch of snuff, continued
+his harangue.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A silver horse-shoe, sir, which is due from every
+scion of royalty who rides across one of his manors;
+and if you look into the penny county histories,
+now publishing by an eminent friend of mine, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span>
+will find that Langhale in Co. Norf. was held by
+one Baldwin <i>per saltum, sufflatum, et pettum</i>; that
+is, he was to come every Christmas into Westminster
+Hall, there to take a leap, cry hem! and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mr. Simpkinson, a glass of sherry?&rdquo; cried Tom
+Ingoldsby, hastily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not any, thank you, sir. This Baldwin,
+surnamed <i>Le&mdash;&mdash;</i>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mrs. Ogleton challenges you, sir; she insists
+upon it,&rdquo; said Tom still more rapidly, at the same
+time filling a glass, and forcing it on the <i>s&ccedil;avant</i>,
+who, thus arrested in the very crisis of his narrative,
+received and swallowed the potation as if it
+had been physic.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What on earth has Miss Simpkinson discovered
+there?&rdquo; continued Tom; &ldquo;something of interest.
+See how fast she is writing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The diversion was effectual; every one looked
+towards Miss Simpkinson, who, far too ethereal
+for &ldquo;creature comforts,&rdquo; was seated apart on the
+dilapidated remains of an altar-tomb, committing
+eagerly to paper something that had strongly
+impressed her; the air&mdash;the eye in a &ldquo;fine frenzy
+rolling&rdquo;&mdash;all betokened that the divine <i>afflarus</i>
+was come. Her father rose, and stole silently
+towards her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What an old boar!&rdquo; muttered young Ingoldsby;
+alluding, perhaps, to a slice of brawn which
+he had just begun to operate upon, but which,
+from the celerity with which it disappeared, did
+not seem so very difficult of mastication.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But what had become of Seaforth and his fair
+Caroline all this while? Why, it so happened that
+they had been simultaneously stricken with the
+picturesque appearance of one of those high and
+pointed arches, which that eminent antiquary,
+Mr. Horseley Curties, has described in his <i>Ancient
+Records</i>, as &ldquo;a <i>Gothic</i> window of the <i>Saxon</i> order&rdquo;;
+and then the ivy clustered so thickly and so beautifully
+on the other side, that they went round to
+look at that; and then their proximity deprived
+it of half its effect, and so they walked across to a
+little knoll, a hundred yards off, and in crossing a
+small ravine, they came to what in Ireland they
+call &ldquo;a bad step,&rdquo; and Charles had to carry his
+cousin over it; and then when they had to come
+back, she would not give him the trouble again for
+the world, so they followed a better but more
+circuitous route, and there were hedges and ditches
+in the way, and stiles to get over and gates to
+get through, so that an hour or more had elapsed
+before they were able to rejoin the party.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lassy me!&rdquo; said Miss Julia Simpkinson, &ldquo;how
+long you have been gone!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so they had. The remark was a very just
+as well as a very natural one. They were gone a
+long while, and a nice cosy chat they had; and
+what do you think it was all about, my dear miss?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O lassy me! love, no doubt, and the moon, and
+eyes, and nightingales, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Stay, stay, my sweet young lady; do not let the
+fervor of your feelings run away with you! I do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span>
+not pretend to say, indeed, that one or more of
+these pretty subjects might not have been introduced;
+but the most important and leading topic
+of the conference was&mdash;Lieutenant Seaforth's
+breeches.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Caroline,&rdquo; said Charles, &ldquo;I have had some
+very odd dreams since I have been at Tappington.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dreams, have you?&rdquo; smiled the young lady,
+arching her taper neck like a swan in pluming.
+&ldquo;Dreams, have you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, dreams&mdash;or dream, perhaps, I should say;
+for, though repeated, it was still the same. And
+what do you imagine was its subject?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is impossible for me to divine,&rdquo; said the
+tongue; &ldquo;I have not the least difficulty in guessing,&rdquo;
+said the eye, as plainly as ever eye spoke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I dreamt&mdash;of your great-grandfather!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a change in the glance&mdash;&ldquo;My great-grandfather?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, the old Sir Giles, or Sir John, you told
+me about the other day: he walked into my bedroom
+in his short cloak of murrey-colored velvet,
+his long rapier, and his Raleigh-looking hat and
+feather, just as the picture represents him; but
+with one exception.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what was that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, his lower extremities, which were visible,
+were those of a skeleton.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, after taking a turn or two about the
+room, and looking round him with a wistful air, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span>
+came to the bed's foot, stared at me in a manner
+impossible to describe&mdash;and then he&mdash;he laid hold
+of my pantaloons; whipped his long bony legs into
+them in a twinkling; and strutting up to the glass,
+seemed to view himself in it with great complacency.
+I tried to speak, but in vain. The
+effort, however, seemed to excite his attention;
+for, wheeling about, he showed me the grimmest-looking
+death's head you can well imagine, and
+with an indescribable grin strutted out of the
+room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Absurd! Charles. How can you talk such
+nonsense?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Caroline&mdash;the breeches are really gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>On the following morning, contrary to his usual
+custom, Seaforth was the first person in the breakfast
+parlor. As no one else was present, he did
+precisely what nine young men out of ten so situated
+would have done; he walked up to the mantelpiece,
+established himself upon the rug, and
+subducting his coat-tails one under each arm,
+turned towards the fire that portion of the human
+frame which it is considered equally indecorous
+to present to a friend or an enemy. A serious,
+not to say anxious, expression was visible upon
+his good-humored countenance, and his mouth
+was fast buttoning itself up for an incipient
+whistle, when little Flo, a tiny spaniel of the Blenheim
+breed&mdash;the pet object of Miss Julia Simpkinson's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span>
+affections&mdash;bounced out from beneath a sofa,
+and began to bark at&mdash;his pantaloons.</p>
+
+<p>They were cleverly &ldquo;built,&rdquo; of a light-grey
+mixture, a broad stripe of the most vivid scarlet
+traversing each seam in a perpendicular direction
+from hip to ankle&mdash;in short, the regimental
+costume of the Royal Bombay Fencibles. The
+animal, educated in the country, had never seen
+such a pair of breeches in her life&mdash;<i>Omne ignotum
+pro magnifico!</i> The scarlet streak, inflamed as it
+was by the reflection of the fire, seemed to act
+on Flora's nerves as the same color does on those
+of bulls and turkeys; she advanced at the <i>pas de
+charge</i>, and her vociferation, like her amazement,
+was unbounded. A sound kick from the disgusted
+officer changed its character, and induced a retreat
+at the very moment when the mistress of the
+pugnacious quadruped entered to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lassy me! Flo, what <i>is</i> the matter?&rdquo; cried
+the sympathizing lady, with a scrutinizing glance
+leveled at the gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>It might as well have lighted on a feather bed.
+His air of imperturbable unconsciousness defied
+examination; and as he would not, and Flora
+could not, expound, that injured individual was
+compelled to pocket up her wrongs. Others of
+the household soon dropped in, and clustered
+round the board dedicated to the most sociable of
+meals; the urn was paraded &ldquo;hissing hot,&rdquo; and
+the cups which &ldquo;cheer, but not inebriate,&rdquo; steamed
+redolent of hyson and pekoe; muffins and marmalade,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span>
+newspapers, and Finnan haddies, left little
+room for observation on the character of Charles's
+warlike &ldquo;turn-out.&rdquo; At length a look from Caroline,
+followed by a smile that nearly ripened to a
+titter, caused him to turn abruptly and address
+his neighbor. It was Miss Simpkinson, who,
+deeply engaged in sipping her tea and turning over
+her album, seemed, like a female Chrononotonthologos,
+&ldquo;immersed in cogibundity of cogitation.&rdquo;
+An interrogatory on the subject of her studies
+drew from her the confession that she was at that
+moment employed in putting the finishing touches
+to a poem inspired by the romantic shades of
+Bolsover. The entreaties of the company were
+of course urgent. Mr. Peters, &ldquo;who liked verses,&rdquo;
+was especially persevering, and Sappho at length
+compliant. After a preparatory hem! and a
+glance at the mirror to ascertain that her look was
+sufficiently sentimental, the poetess began:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;There is a calm, a holy feeling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Vulgar minds, can never know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O'er the bosom softly stealing,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Chasten'd grief, delicious woe!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! how sweet at eve regaining<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yon lone tower's sequester'd shade&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sadly mute and uncomplaining&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&mdash;Yow!&mdash;yeough!&mdash;yeough!&mdash;yow!&mdash;yow!&rdquo; yelled
+a hapless sufferer from beneath the table. It was
+an unlucky hour for quadrupeds; and if &ldquo;every
+dog will have his day,&rdquo; he could not have selected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span>
+a more unpropitious one than this. Mrs. Ogleton,
+too, had a pet&mdash;a favorite pug&mdash;whose squab
+figure, black muzzle, and tortuosity of tail, that
+curled like a head of celery in a salad-bowl, bespoke
+his Dutch extraction. Yow! yow! yow!
+continued the brute&mdash;a chorus in which Flo instantly
+joined. Sooth to say, pug had more reason
+to express his dissatisfaction than was given him
+by the muse of Simpkinson; the other only barked
+for company. Scarcely had the poetess got
+through her first stanza, when Tom Ingoldsby,
+in the enthusiasm of the moment, became so lost
+in the material world, that, in his abstraction, he
+unwarily laid his hand on the cock of the urn.
+Quivering with emotion, he gave it such an unlucky
+twist, that the full stream of its scalding contents
+descended on the gingerbread hide of the unlucky
+Cupid. The confusion was complete; the whole
+economy of the table disarranged&mdash;the company
+broke up in most admired disorder&mdash;and &ldquo;vulgar
+minds will never know&rdquo; anything more of Miss
+Simpkinson's ode till they peruse it in some
+forthcoming Annual.</p>
+
+<p>Seaforth profited by the confusion to take the
+delinquent who had caused this &ldquo;stramash&rdquo; by
+the arm, and to lead him to the lawn, where he had
+a word or two for his private ear. The conference
+between the young gentlemen was neither brief
+in its duration nor unimportant in its result. The
+subject was what the lawyers call tripartite, embracing
+the information that Charles Seaforth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span>
+was over head and ears in love with Tom Ingoldsby's
+sister; secondly, that the lady had referred
+him to &ldquo;papa&rdquo; for his sanction; thirdly, and
+lastly, his nightly visitations and consequent
+bereavement. At the two first times Tom smiled
+suspiciously&mdash;at the last he burst out into an
+absolute &ldquo;guffaw.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Steal your breeches! Miss Bailey over again,
+by Jove,&rdquo; shouted Ingoldsby. &ldquo;But a gentleman,
+you say&mdash;and Sir Giles, too. I am not sure,
+Charles, whether I ought not to call you out for
+aspersing the honor of the family.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Laugh as you will, Tom&mdash;be as incredulous
+as you please. One fact is incontestable&mdash;the
+breeches are gone! Look here&mdash;I am reduced to
+my regimentals; and if these go, to-morrow I must
+borrow of you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Rochefoucault says, there is something in the
+misfortunes of our very best friends that does not
+displease us; assuredly we can, most of us, laugh
+at their petty inconveniences, till called upon to
+supply them. Tom composed his features on the
+instant, and replied with more gravity, as well as
+with an expletive, which, if my Lord Mayor had
+been within hearing might have cost him five
+shillings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is something very queer in this, after
+all. The clothes, you say, have positively disappeared.
+Somebody is playing you a trick; and,
+ten to one, your servant had a hand in it. By the
+way, I heard something yesterday of his kicking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span>
+up a bobbery in the kitchen, and seeing a ghost, or
+something of that kind, himself. Depend upon
+it, Barney is in the plot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It now struck the lieutenant at once, that the
+usually buoyant spirits of his attendant had of late
+been materially sobered down, his loquacity obviously
+circumscribed, and that he, the said
+lieutenant, had actually rung his bell three several
+times that very morning before he could procure
+his attendance. Mr. Maguire was forthwith
+summoned, and underwent a close examination.
+The &ldquo;bobbery&rdquo; was easily explained. Mr. Oliver
+Dobbs had hinted his disapprobation of a flirtation
+carrying on between the gentleman from
+Munster and the lady from the Rue St. Honor&eacute;.
+Mademoiselle had boxed Mr. Maguire's ears, and
+Mr. Maguire had pulled Mademoiselle upon his
+knee, and the lady had <i>not</i> cried <i>Mon Dieu!</i> And
+Mr. Oliver Dobbs said it was very wrong; and Mrs.
+Botherby said it was &ldquo;scandalous,&rdquo; and what
+ought not to be done in any moral kitchen; and
+Mr. Maguire had got hold of the Honorable
+Augustus Sucklethumbkin's powder-flask, and had
+put large pinches of the best Double Dartford
+into Mr. Dobbs's tobacco-box; and Mr. Dobbs's
+pipe had exploded, and set fire to Mrs. Botherby's
+Sunday cap; and Mr. Maguire had put it out with
+the slop-basin, &ldquo;barring the wig&rdquo;; and then they
+were all so &ldquo;cantankerous,&rdquo; that Barney had gone
+to take a walk in the garden; and then&mdash;then Mr.
+Barney had seen a ghost.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A what? you blockhead!&rdquo; asked Tom
+Ingoldsby.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure then, and it's meself will tell your honor
+the rights of it,&rdquo; said the ghost-seer. &ldquo;Meself
+and Miss Pauline, sir&mdash;or Miss Pauline and meself,
+for the ladies comes first anyhow&mdash;we got
+tired of the hobstroppylous scrimmaging among
+the ould servants, that didn't know a joke when
+they seen one: and we went out to look at the
+comet&mdash;that's the rorybory-alehouse, they calls
+him in this country&mdash;and we walked upon the
+lawn&mdash;and divil of any alehouse there was there
+at all; and Miss Pauline said it was bekase of the
+shrubbery maybe, and why wouldn't we see it
+better beyonst the tree? and so we went to the
+trees, but sorrow a comet did meself see there,
+barring a big ghost instead of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A ghost? And what sort of a ghost, Barney?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Och, then, divil a lie I'll tell your honor. A
+tall ould gentleman he was, all in white, with a
+shovel on the shoulder of him, and a big torch in
+his fist&mdash;though what he wanted with that it's
+meself can't tell, for his eyes were like gig-lamps, let
+alone the moon and the comet, which wasn't there
+at all&mdash;and 'Barney,' says he to me&mdash;'cause why
+he knew me&mdash;'Barney,' says he, 'what is it you're
+doing with the <i>colleen</i> there, Barney?'&mdash;Divil a
+word did I say. Miss Pauline screeched, and
+cried murther in French, and ran off with herself;
+and of course meself was in a mighty hurry after
+the lady, and had no time to stop palavering with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span>
+him any way: so I dispersed at once, and the ghost
+vanished in a flame of fire!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Maguire's account was received with
+avowed incredulity by both gentlemen; but Barney
+stuck to his text with unflinching pertinacity. A
+reference to Mademoiselle was suggested, but
+abandoned, as neither party had a taste for delicate
+investigations.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll tell you what, Seaforth,&rdquo; said Ingoldsby,
+after Barney had received his dismissal, &ldquo;that
+there is a trick here, is evident; and Barney's
+vision may possibly be a part of it. Whether he is
+most knave or fool, you best know. At all events,
+I will sit up with you to-night, and see if I can
+convert my ancestor into a visiting acquaintance.
+Meanwhile your finger on your lip!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">'Twas now the very witching time of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When churchyards yawn, and graves give up their dead.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Gladly would I grace my tale with decent horror,
+and therefore I do beseech the &ldquo;gentle reader&rdquo; to
+believe, that if all the <i>succedanea</i> to this mysterious
+narrative are not in strict keeping, he will
+ascribe it only to the disgraceful innovations of
+modern degeneracy upon the sober and dignified
+habits of our ancestors. I can introduce him, it
+is true, into an old and high-roofed chamber, its
+walls covered in three sides with black oak wainscoting,
+adorned with carvings of fruit and flowers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span>
+long anterior to those of Grinling Gibbons; the
+fourth side is clothed with a curious remnant of
+dingy tapestry, once elucidatory of some Scriptural
+history, but of <i>which</i> not even Mrs. Botherby
+could determine. Mr. Simpkinson, who had
+examined it carefully, inclined to believe the
+principal figure to be either Bathsheba, or Daniel
+in the lions' den; while Tom Ingoldsby decided in
+favor of the king of Bashan. All, however, was
+conjecture, tradition being silent on the subject.
+A lofty arched portal led into, and a little arched
+portal led out of, this apartment; they were opposite
+each other, and each possessed the security
+of massy bolts on its interior. The bedstead, too,
+was not one of yesterday, but manifestly coeval
+with days ere Seddons was, and when a good four-post
+&ldquo;article&rdquo; was deemed worthy of being a
+royal bequest. The bed itself, with all the appurtenances
+of palliasse, mattresses, etc., was of far
+later date, and looked most incongruously comfortable;
+the casements, too, with their little diamond-shaped
+panes and iron binding, had given way to
+the modern heterodoxy of the sash-window. Nor
+was this all that conspired to ruin the costume, and
+render the room a meet haunt for such &ldquo;mixed
+spirits&rdquo; only as could condescend to don at the
+same time an Elizabethan doublet and Bond Street
+inexpressibles.</p>
+
+<p>With their green morocco slippers on a modern
+fender, in front of a disgracefully modern grate,
+sat two young gentlemen, clad in &ldquo;shawl pattern&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span>
+dressing-gowns and black silk stocks, much at
+variance with the high cane-backed chairs which
+supported them. A bunch of abomination, called
+a cigar, reeked in the left-hand corner of the mouth
+of one, and in the right-hand corner of the mouth of
+the other&mdash;an arrangement happily adapted for
+the escape of the noxious fumes up the chimney,
+without that unmerciful &ldquo;funking&rdquo; each other,
+which a less scientific disposition of the weed
+would have induced. A small pembroke table
+filled up the intervening space between them, sustaining,
+at each extremity, an elbow and a glass
+of toddy&mdash;thus in &ldquo;lonely pensive contemplation&rdquo;
+were the two worthies occupied, when the &ldquo;iron
+tongue of midnight had tolled twelve.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ghost-time's come!&rdquo; said Ingoldsby, taking
+from his waistcoat pocket a watch like a gold
+half-crown, and consulting it as though he suspected
+the turret-clock over the stables of
+mendacity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hush!&rdquo; said Charles; &ldquo;did I not hear a footstep?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause&mdash;there <i>was</i> a footstep&mdash;it
+sounded distinctly&mdash;it reached the door it hesitated,
+stopped, and&mdash;passed on.</p>
+
+<p>Tom darted across the room, threw open the
+door, and became aware of Mrs. Botherby toddling
+to her chamber, at the other end of the gallery,
+after dosing one of the housemaids with an approved
+julep from the Countess of Kent's &ldquo;Choice
+Manual.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-night, sir!&rdquo; said Mrs. Botherby.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go to the d&mdash;&mdash;l!&rdquo; said the disappointed ghost-hunter.</p>
+
+<p>An hour&mdash;two&mdash;rolled on, and still no spectral
+visitation; nor did aught intervene to make night
+hideous; and when the turret-clock sounded at
+length the hour of three, Ingoldsby, whose patience
+and grog were alike exhausted, sprang from his
+chair, saying:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is all infernal nonsense, my good fellow.
+Deuce of any ghost shall we see to-night; it's long
+past the canonical hour. I'm off to bed; and as
+to your breeches, I'll insure them for the next
+twenty-four hours at least, at the price of the
+buckram.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly.&mdash;Oh! thank'ee&mdash;to be sure!&rdquo; stammered
+Charles, rousing himself from a reverie,
+which had degenerated into an absolute snooze.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-night, my boy! Bolt the door behind
+me; and defy the Pope, the Devil, and the
+Pretender!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Seaforth followed his friend's advice, and the
+next morning came down to breakfast dressed in
+the habiliments of the preceding day. The charm
+was broken, the demon defeated; the light greys
+with the red stripe down the seams were yet <i>in
+rerum natur&acirc;</i>, and adorned the person of their
+lawful proprietor.</p>
+
+<p>Tom felicitated himself and his partner of the
+watch on the result of their vigilance; but there is
+a rustic adage, which warns us against self-gratulation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span>
+before we are quite &ldquo;out of the wood.&rdquo;&mdash;Seaforth
+was yet within its verge.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>A rap at Tom Ingoldsby's door the following
+morning startled him as he was shaving&mdash;he cut
+his chin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in, and be d&mdash;&mdash;d to you!&rdquo; said the martyr,
+pressing his thumb on the scarified epidermis. The
+door opened, and exhibited Mr. Barney Maguire.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Barney, what is it?&rdquo; quoth the sufferer,
+adopting the vernacular of his visitant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The master, sir&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, what does he want?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The loanst of a breeches, plase your honor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, you don't mean to tell me&mdash;By
+Heaven, this is too good!&rdquo; shouted Tom, bursting
+into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. &ldquo;Why,
+Barney, you don't mean to say the ghost has got
+them again?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Maguire did not respond to the young
+squire's risibility; the cast of his countenance was
+decidedly serious.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Faith, then, it's gone they are sure enough!
+Hasn't meself been looking over the bed, and
+under the bed, and <i>in</i> the bed, for the matter of
+that, and divil a ha'p'orth of breeches is there
+to the fore at all:&mdash;I'm bothered entirely!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hark'ee! Mr. Barney,&rdquo; said Tom, incautiously
+removing his thumb, and letting a crimson
+stream &ldquo;incarnadine the multitudinous&rdquo; lather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span>
+that plastered his throat&mdash;&ldquo;this may be all very
+well with your master, but you don't humbug <i>me</i>,
+sir:&mdash;Tell me instantly what have you done with
+the clothes?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This abrupt transition from &ldquo;lively to severe&rdquo;
+certainly took Maguire by surprise, and he seemed
+for an instant as much disconcerted as it is possible
+to disconcert an Irish gentleman's gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me? is it meself, then, that's the ghost to your
+honor's thinking?&rdquo; said he after a moment's pause,
+and with a slight shade of indignation in his tones;
+&ldquo;is it I would stale the master's things&mdash;and what
+would I do with them?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That you best know: what your purpose is I
+can't guess, for I don't think you mean to 'stale'
+them, as you call it; but that you are concerned
+in their disappearance, I am satisfied. Confound
+this blood!&mdash;give me a towel, Barney.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Maguire acquitted himself of the commission.
+&ldquo;As I've a sowl, your honor,&rdquo; said he, solemnly,
+&ldquo;little it is meself knows of the matter: and after
+what I seen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What you've seen! Why, what <i>have</i> you seen?&mdash;Barney,
+I don't want to inquire into your flirtations;
+but don't suppose you can palm off your
+saucer eyes and gig-lamps upon me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then, as sure as your honor's standing there,
+I saw him: and why wouldn't I, when Miss <i>Pauline</i>
+was to the fore as well as meself, and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Get along with your nonsense&mdash;leave the room,
+sir!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the master?&rdquo; said Barney, imploringly;
+&ldquo;and without a breeches?&mdash;sure he'll be catching
+cowld&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take that, rascal!&rdquo; replied Ingoldsby, throwing
+a pair of pantaloons at, rather than to, him:
+&ldquo;but don't suppose, sir, you shall carry on your
+tricks here with impunity; recollect there is such
+a thing as a treadmill, and that my father is a
+county magistrate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Barney's eye flashed fire&mdash;he stood erect, and
+was about to speak; but, mastering himself, not
+without an effort, he took up the garment, and left
+the room as perpendicular as a Quaker.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ingoldsby,&rdquo; said Charles Seaforth, after breakfast,
+&ldquo;this is now past a joke; to-day is the last of
+my stay; for, notwithstanding the ties which detain
+me, common decency obliges me to visit home
+after so long an absence. I shall come to an immediate
+explanation with your father on the subject
+nearest my heart, and depart while I have a
+change of dress left. On his answer will my return
+depend! In the meantime tell me candidly&mdash;I
+ask it in all seriousness, and as a friend&mdash;am I
+not a dupe to your well-known propensity to
+hoaxing? have you not a hand in&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, by heaven, Seaforth; I see what you mean:
+on my honor, I am as much mystified as yourself;
+and if your servant&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not he:&mdash;If there be a trick, he at least is not
+privy to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If there <i>be</i> a trick? why, Charles, do you,
+think&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know not <i>what</i> to think, Tom. As surely as
+you are a living man, so surely did that spectral
+anatomy visit my room again last night, grin in
+my face, and walk away with my trousers; nor was
+I able to spring from my bed, or break the chain
+which seemed to bind me to my pillow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seaforth!&rdquo; said Ingoldsby, after a short pause,
+&ldquo;I will&mdash;But hush! here are the girls and my
+father. I will carry off the females, and leave you
+a clear field with the governor: carry your point
+with him, and we will talk about your breeches
+afterwards.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Tom's diversion was successful; he carried off
+the ladies <i>en masse</i> to look at a remarkable specimen
+of the class <i>Dodecandria Monogynia</i>&mdash;which
+they could not find&mdash;while Seaforth marched
+boldly up to the encounter, and carried &ldquo;the
+governor's&rdquo; outworks by a <i>coup de main</i>. I shall
+not stop to describe the progress of the attack;
+suffice it that it was as successful as could have
+been wished, and that Seaforth was referred back
+again to the lady. The happy lover was off at a
+tangent; the botanical party was soon overtaken;
+and the arm of Caroline, whom a vain endeavor to
+spell out the Linn&aelig;an name of a daffy-down-dilly
+had detained a little in the rear of the others, was
+soon firmly locked in his own.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i4">What was the world to them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its noise, its nonsense and its &ldquo;breeches&rdquo; all?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Seaforth was in the seventh heaven; he retired to
+his room that night as happy as if no such thing as
+a goblin had ever been heard of, and personal
+chattels were as well fenced in by law as real
+property. Not so Tom Ingoldsby: the mystery&mdash;for
+mystery there evidently was&mdash;had not only
+piqued his curiosity, but ruffled his temper. The
+watch of the previous night had been unsuccessful,
+probably because it was undisguised. To-night
+he would &ldquo;ensconce himself&rdquo;&mdash;not indeed &ldquo;behind
+the arras&rdquo;&mdash;for the little that remained was,
+as we have seen, nailed to the wall&mdash;but in a small
+closet which opened from one corner of the room,
+and by leaving the door ajar, would give to its
+occupant a view of all that might pass in the apartment.
+Here did the young ghost-hunter take up
+a position, with a good stout sapling under his arm,
+a full half-hour before Seaforth retired for the
+night. Not even his friend did he let into his confidence,
+fully determined that if his plan did not
+succeed, the failure should be attributed to himself
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>At the usual hour of separation for the night,
+Tom saw, from his concealment, the lieutenant
+enter his room, and after taking a few turns in it,
+with an expression so joyous as to betoken that
+his thoughts were mainly occupied by his approaching
+happiness, proceed slowly to disrobe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span>
+himself. The coat, the waistcoat, the black silk
+stock, were gradually discarded; the green morocco
+slippers were kicked off, and then&mdash;ay, and then&mdash;his
+countenance grew grave; it seemed to occur to
+him all at once that this was his last stake&mdash;nay,
+that the very breeches he had on were not his own&mdash;that
+to-morrow morning was his last, and that
+if he lost <i>them</i>&mdash;A glance showed that his mind
+was made up; he replaced the single button he
+had just subducted, and threw himself upon the
+bed in a state of transition&mdash;half chrysalis, half
+grub.</p>
+
+<p>Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper
+by the flickering light of the night-lamp, till the
+clock striking one, induced him to increase the
+narrow opening which he had left for the purpose
+of observation. The motion, slight as it was,
+seemed to attract Charles's attention; for he
+raised himself suddenly to a sitting posture,
+listened for a moment, and then stood upright upon
+the floor. Ingoldsby was on the point of discovering
+himself, when, the light flashing full upon his
+friend's countenance, he perceived that, though
+his eyes were open, &ldquo;their sense was shut&rdquo;&mdash;that
+he was yet under the influence of sleep. Seaforth
+advanced slowly to the toilet, lit his candle at the
+lamp that stood on it, then, going back to the bed's
+foot, appeared to search eagerly for something
+which he could not find. For a few moments he
+seemed restless and uneasy, walking round the
+apartment and examining the chairs, till, coming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span>
+fully in front of a large swing-glass that flanked
+the dressing-table, he paused as if contemplating
+his figure in it. He now returned towards the
+bed; put on his slippers, and, with cautious and
+stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched
+doorway that opened on the private staircase.</p>
+
+<p>As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged
+from his hiding-place; but the sleep-walker heard
+him not; he proceeded softly downstairs, followed
+at a due distance by his friend; opened the door
+which led out upon the gardens; and stood at once
+among the thickest of the shrubs, which there
+clustered round the base of a corner turret, and
+screened the postern from common observation.
+At this moment Ingoldsby had nearly spoiled all
+by making a false step: the sound attracted Seaforth's
+attention&mdash;he paused and turned; and, as
+the full moon shed her light directly upon his pale
+and troubled features, Tom marked, almost with
+dismay, the fixed and rayless appearance of his
+eyes:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was no speculation in those orbs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he did glare withal.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The perfect stillness preserved by his follower
+seemed to reassure him; he turned aside, and from
+the midst of a thickest laurustinus drew forth a
+gardener's spade, shouldering which he proceeded
+with great rapidity into the midst of the shrubbery.
+Arrived at a certain point where the earth
+seemed to have been recently disturbed, he set<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span>
+himself heartily to the task of digging, till, having
+thrown up several shovelfuls of mould, he stopped,
+flung down his tool, and very composedly began
+to disencumber himself of his pantaloons.</p>
+
+<p>Up to this moment Tom had watched him with
+a wary eye; he now advanced cautiously, and, as
+his friend was busily engaged in disentangling
+himself from his garment, made himself master
+of the spade. Seaforth, meanwhile, had accomplished
+his purpose: he stood for a moment with</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">His streamers waving in the wind,<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>occupied in carefully rolling up the small-clothes
+into as compact a form as possible, and all heedless
+of the breath of heaven, which might certainly be
+supposed at such a moment, and in such a plight,
+to &ldquo;visit his frame too roughly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was in the act of stooping low to deposit the
+pantaloons in the grave which he had been digging
+for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close behind
+him, and with the flat side of the spade&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The shock was effectual; never again was
+Lieutenant Seaforth known to act the part of a
+somnambulist. One by one, his breeches&mdash;his
+trousers&mdash;his pantaloons&mdash;his silk-net tights&mdash;his
+patent cords&mdash;his showy greys with the broad
+red stripe of the Bombay Fencibles were brought
+to light&mdash;rescued from the grave in which they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span>
+had been buried, like the strata of a Christmas
+pie; and after having been well aired by Mrs.
+Botherby, became once again effective.</p>
+
+<p>The family, the ladies especially, laughed;
+the Peterses laughed; the Simpkinsons laughed;&mdash;Barney
+Maguire cried &ldquo;Botheration!&rdquo; and
+<i>Ma'mselle Pauline</i>, &ldquo;<i>Mon Dieu!</i>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing
+which awaited him on all sides, started off two
+hours earlier than he had proposed:&mdash;he soon
+returned, however; and having, at his father-in-law's
+request, given up the occupation of Rajah-hunting
+and shooting Nabobs, led his blushing
+bride to the altar.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Simpkinson from Bath did not attend the
+ceremony, being engaged at the Grand Junction
+meeting of <i>S&ccedil;avans</i>, then, congregating from all
+parts of the known world in the city of Dublin.
+His essay, demonstrating that the globe is a great
+custard, whipped into coagulation by whirlwinds
+and cooked by electricity&mdash;a little too much baked
+in the Isle of Portland, and a thought underdone
+about the Bog of Allen&mdash;was highly spoken of,
+and narrowly escaped obtaining a Bridgewater
+prize.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Simpkinson and her sister acted as brides-maids
+on the occasion; the former wrote an <i>epithalamium</i>,
+and the latter cried &ldquo;Lassy me!&rdquo; at
+the clergyman's wig. Some years have since
+rolled on; the union has been crowned with two or
+three tidy little off-shoots from the family tree, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span>
+whom Master Neddy is &ldquo;grandpapa's darling,&rdquo;
+and Mary Anne mamma's particular &ldquo;Sock.&rdquo; I
+shall only add, that Mr. and Mrs. Seaforth are
+living together quite as happily as two good-hearted,
+good-tempered bodies, very fond of each
+other, can possibly do; and that, since the day of
+his marriage, Charles has shown no disposition to
+jump out of bed, or ramble out of doors o' nights&mdash;though
+from his entire devotion to every wish and
+whim of his young wife, Tom insinuates that the
+fair Caroline does still occasionally take advantage
+of it so far as to &ldquo;slip on the breeches.&rdquo;</p>
+<br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="IN_THE_BARN" id="IN_THE_BARN"></a>IN THE BARN</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> BURGES JOHNSON</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From the <i>Century Magazine</i>, June, 1920. By permission of
+the Century Company and Burges Johnson.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>In the Barn</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> BURGES JOHNSON</h4>
+
+
+<p>The moment we had entered the barn, I regretted
+the rash good nature which prompted me
+to consent to the plans of those vivacious young
+students. Miss Anstell and Miss Royce and one
+or two others, often leaders in student mischief, I
+suspect, were the first to enter, and they amused
+themselves by hiding in the darkness and greeting
+the rest of our party as we entered with sundry
+shrieks and moans such as are commonly attributed
+to ghosts. My wife and I brought up
+the rear, carrying the two farm lanterns. She had
+selected the place after an amused consideration
+of the question, and I confess I hardly approved
+her judgment. But she is native to this part of
+the country, and she had assured us that there
+were some vague traditions hanging about the
+building that made it most suitable for our
+purposes.</p>
+
+<p>It was a musty old place, without even as much
+tidiness as is usually found in barns, and there was
+a dank smell about it, as though generations of
+haymows had decayed there. There were holes
+in the floor, and in the dusk of early evening it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span>
+necessary for us to pick our way with the greatest
+care. It occurred to me then, in a premonitory
+sort of way, that if some young woman student
+sprained her ankle in this absurd environment, I
+should be most embarrassed to explain it. Apparently
+it was a hay barn, whose vague dimensions
+were lost in shadow. Rafters crossed its
+width about twenty feet above our heads, and
+here and there a few boards lay across the rafters,
+furnishing foothold for anyone who might wish
+to operate the ancient pulley that was doubtless
+once used for lifting bales. The northern half of
+the floor was covered with hay to a depth of two
+or three feet. How long it had actually been
+there I cannot imagine. It was extremely dusty,
+and I feared a recurrence of my old enemy, hay
+fever; but it was too late to offer objection on such
+grounds, and my wife and I followed our chattering
+guides, who disposed themselves here and there
+on this ancient bed of hay, and insisted that we
+should find places in the center of their circle.</p>
+
+<p>At my suggestion, the two farm lanterns had
+been left at a suitable distance, in fact, quite at
+the other side of the barn, and our only light came
+from the rapidly falling twilight of outdoors, which
+found its way through a little window and sundry
+cracks high in the eaves above the rafters.</p>
+
+<p>There was something about the place, now that
+we were settled and no longer occupied with adjustments
+of comfort, that subdued our spirits, and it
+was with much less hilarity that the young people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span>
+united in demanding a story. I looked across at
+my wife, whose face was faintly visible within the
+circle. I thought that even in the half-light I
+glimpsed the same expression of amused incredulity
+which she had worn earlier in the day when I
+had yielded to the importunities of a deputation
+of my students for this ghost-story party on the
+eve of a holiday.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is no reason,&rdquo; I thought to myself, repeating
+the phrases I had used then&mdash;&ldquo;there is no
+reason why I should not tell a ghost story. True,
+I had never done so before, but the literary attainments
+which have enabled me to perfect my recent
+treatise upon the 'Disuse of the Comma' are quite
+equal to impromptu experimentation in the field
+of psychic phenomena.&rdquo; I was aware that the
+young people themselves hardly expected serious
+acquiescence, and that, too, stimulated me. I
+cleared my throat in a prefatory manner, and
+silence fell upon the group. A light breeze had
+risen outside, and the timbers of the barn creaked
+persistently. From the shadows almost directly
+overhead there came a faint clanking. It was
+evidently caused by the rusty pulley-wheel which
+I had observed there as we entered. An iron hook
+at the end of an ancient rope still depended from
+it, and swung in the lightly stirring air several
+feet above our heads, directly over the center of
+our circle.</p>
+
+<p>Some curious combination of influences&mdash;perhaps
+the atmosphere of the place, added to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span>
+stimulation of the faintly discernible faces around
+me, and my impulse to prove my own ability in
+this untried field of narration&mdash;gave me a sudden
+sense of being inspired. I found myself voicing
+fancies as though they were facts, and readily
+including imaginary names and data which certainly
+were not in any way premeditated.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This barn stands on the old Creed place,&rdquo; I
+began. &ldquo;Peter Creed was its last owner, but I
+suppose that it has always been and always will
+be known as the Turner barn. A few yards away
+to the south you will find the crumbling brick-work
+and gaping hollows of an old foundation, now
+overgrown with weeds that almost conceal a few
+charred timbers. That is all that is left of the old
+Ashley Turner house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I cleared my throat again, not through any
+effort to gain time for my thoughts, but to feel for a
+moment the satisfaction arising from the intent
+attitude of my audience, particularly my wife, who
+had leaned forward and was looking at me with
+an expression of startled surprise.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ashley Turner must have had a pretty fine-looking
+farm here thirty years or so ago,&rdquo; I continued,
+&ldquo;when he brought his wife to it. This
+barn was new then. But he was a ne'er-do-well,
+with nothing to be said in his favor, unless you
+admit his fame as a practical joker. Strange how
+the ne'er-do-well is often equipped with an extravagant
+sense of humor! Turner had a considerable
+retinue among the riffraff boys of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span>
+neighborhood, who made this barn a noisy rendezvous
+and followed his hints in much whimsical
+mischief. But he committed most of his practical
+jokes when drunk, and in his sober moments he
+abused his family and let his wife struggle to
+keep up the acres, assisted only by a half-competent
+man of all work. Finally he took to roving.
+No one knew how he got pocket-money; his wife
+could not have given him any. Then someone
+discovered that he was going over to Creed's now
+and then, and everything was explained.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This concise data of mine was evidently not
+holding the close attention of my youthful audience.
+They annoyed me by frequent pranks and
+whisperings. No one could have been more surprised
+at my glibness than I myself, except perhaps
+my wife, whose attitude of strained attention had
+not relaxed. I resumed my story.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Peter Creed was a good old-fashioned usurer
+of the worst type. He went to church regularly
+one day in the week and gouged his neighbors&mdash;any
+that he could get into his clutches&mdash;on the
+other six. He must have been lending Turner
+drinking money, and everyone knew what the
+security must be.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At last there came a day when the long-suffering
+wife revolted. Turner had come home extra
+drunk and in his most maudlin humor. Probably
+he attempted some drunken prank upon his over-taxed
+helpmate. Old Ike, the hired man, said
+that he thought Turner had rigged up some scare<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span>
+for her in the barn and that he had never heard
+anything so much like straight talking from his
+mistress, either before or since, and he was working
+in the woodshed at the time, with the door shut.
+Shortly after that tirade Ashley Turner disappeared,
+and no one saw or heard of him or thought
+about him for a couple of years except when the
+sight of his tired-looking wife and scrawny children
+revived the recollection.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At last, on a certain autumn day, old Peter
+Creed turned up here at the Turner place. I
+imagine Mrs. Turner knew what was in store for
+her when his rusty buggy came in sight around the
+corner of the barn. At any rate, she made no
+protest, and listened meekly to his curt statement
+that he held an overdue mortgage, with plenty
+of back interest owing, and it was time for her
+to go. She went. Neither she nor anyone else
+doubted Creed's rights in the matter, and, after
+all, I believe it got a better home for her somewhere
+in the long run.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I paused here in my narration to draw breath
+and readjust my leg, which had become cramped.
+There was a general readjustment and shifting of
+position, with some levity. It was darker now.
+The rafters above us were invisible, and the faces
+about me looked oddly white against the shadowy
+background. After a moment or two of delay
+I cleared my throat sharply and continued.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Creed came thus into possession of this
+place, just as he had come to own a dozen others in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span>
+the county. He usually lived on one until he was
+able to sell it at a good profit over his investment; so
+he settled down in the Turner house, and kept old
+Ike because he worked for little or nothing. But
+he seemed to have a hard time finding a purchaser.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must have been about a year later when an
+unexpected thing happened. Creed had come out
+here to the barn to lock up&mdash;he always did that
+himself&mdash;when he noticed something unusual
+about the haymow&mdash;this haymow&mdash;which stood
+then about six feet above the barn floor. He
+looked closer through the dusk, and saw a pair of
+boots; went nearer, and found that they were
+fitted to a pair of human legs whose owner was
+sound asleep in his hay. Creed picked up a short
+stick and beat on one boot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Get out of here,' he said, 'or I'll have you
+locked up.' The sleeper woke in slow fashion,
+sat up, grinned, and said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Hello, Peter Creed.' It was Ashley Turner,
+beyond question. Creed stepped back a pace or
+two and seemed at a loss for words. An object
+slipped from Turner's pocket as he moved, slid
+along the hay, and fell to the barn floor. It was
+a half-filled whisky-flask.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No one knows full details of the conversation
+that ensued, of course. Such little as I am able
+to tell you of what was said and done comes
+through old Ike, who watched from a safe distance
+outside the barn, ready to act at a moment's notice
+as best suited his own safety and welfare. Of one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span>
+thing Ike was certain&mdash;Creed lacked his usual
+browbeating manner. He was apparently struggling
+to assume an unwonted friendliness. Turner
+was very drunk, but triumphant, and his satisfaction
+over what he must have felt was the practical
+joke of his life seemed to make him friendly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'I kept 'em all right,' he said again and again.
+'I've got the proof. I wasn't working for nothing
+all these months. I ain't fool enough yet to
+throw away papers even when I'm drunk.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To the watchful Ike's astonishment, Creed
+evidently tried to persuade him to come into the
+house for something to eat. Turner slid off the
+haymow, found his steps too unsteady, laughed
+foolishly, and suggested that Creed bring some food
+to him there. 'Guess I've got a right to sleep in
+the barn or house, whichever I want,' he said,
+leering into Creed's face. The old usurer stood
+there for a few minutes eying Turner thoughtfully.
+Then he actually gave him a shoulder back onto
+the hay, said something about finding a snack of
+supper, and started out of the barn. In the doorway
+he turned, looked back, then walked over
+to the edge of the mow and groped on the floor
+until he found the whisky-flask, picked it up, tossed
+it into Turner's lap, and stumbled out of the barn
+again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I was becoming interested in my own story and
+somewhat pleased with the fluency of it, but my
+audience annoyed me. There was intermittent
+whispering, with some laughter, and I inferred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span>
+that one or another would occasionally stimulate
+this inattention by tickling a companion with a
+straw. Miss Anstell, who is so frivolous by nature
+that I sometimes question her right to a place
+in my classroom, I even suspected of irritating
+the back of my own neck in the same fashion.
+Naturally, I ignored it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Peter Creed,&rdquo; I repeated, &ldquo;went into the
+house. Ike hung around the barn, waiting. He
+was frankly curious. In a few minutes his employer
+reappeared, carrying a plate heaped with
+an assortment of scraps. Ike peered and listened
+then without compunction.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'It's the best I've got,' he heard Creed say
+grudgingly. Turner's tones were now more drunkenly
+belligerent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'It had better be,' he said loudly. 'And I'll
+take the best bed after to-night.' Evidently he
+was eating and muttering between mouthfuls.
+'You might have brought me another bottle.'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'I did,' said Creed, to the listening Ike's great
+astonishment. Turner laughed immoderately.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A long silence followed. Turner was either
+eating or drinking. Then he spoke again, more
+thickly and drowsily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Damn unpleasant that rope. Why don't
+you haul it up out of my way?'</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'It don't hurt you any,' said Creed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'Don't you wish it would?' said Turner, with
+drunken shrewdness. 'But I don't like it. Haul
+it away.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'I will,' said Creed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was a longer silence, and then there
+came an intermittent rasping sound. A moment
+later Creed came suddenly from the barn. Ike
+fumbled with a large rake, and made as though
+to hang it on its accustomed peg near the barn
+door. Creed eyed him sharply. 'Get along to
+bed,' he ordered, and Ike obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That was a Saturday night. On Sunday
+morning Ike went to the barn later than usual and
+hesitatingly. Even then he was first to enter.
+He found the drunkard's body hanging here over
+the mow, just about where we are sitting, stark
+and cold. It was a gruesome end to a miserable
+home-coming.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>My audience was quiet enough now. Miss
+Anstell and one or two others giggled loudly, but
+it was obviously forced, and found no further
+echo. The breeze which had sprung up some time
+before was producing strange creakings and raspings
+in the old timbers, and the pulley-wheel far
+above us clanked with a dismal repetitious sound,
+like the tolling of a cracked bell.</p>
+
+<p>I waited a moment, well satisfied with the effect,
+and then continued.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The coroner's jury found it suicide, though
+some shook their heads meaningly. Turner had
+apparently sobered up enough to stand, and,
+making a simple loop around his neck by catching
+the rope through its own hook, had then slid off
+the mow. The rope which went over the pulley-wheel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span>
+up there in the roof ran out through a
+window under the eaves, and was made fast near
+the barn door outside, where anyone could haul
+on it. Creed testified the knot was one he had
+tied many days before. Ike was a timorous old
+man, with a wholesome fear of his employer, and
+he supported the testimony and made no reference
+to his eavesdropping of the previous evening,
+though he heard Creed swear before the jury that
+he did not recognize the tramp he had fed and
+lodged. There were no papers in Turner's pockets;
+only a few coins, and a marked pocket-knife that
+gave the first clue to his identity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A few of the neighbors said that it was a fitting
+end, and that the verdict was a just one. Nevertheless,
+whisperings began and increased. People
+avoided Creed and the neighborhood. Rumors
+grew that the barn was haunted. Passers-by on
+the road after dark said they heard the old pulley-wheel
+clanking when no breeze stirred, much as
+you hear it now. Some claim to have heard
+maudlin laughter. Possible purchasers were
+frightened away, and Creed grew more and more
+solitary and misanthropic. Old Ike hung on,
+Heaven knows why, though I suppose Creed paid
+him some sort of wage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Rumors grew. Folks said that neither Ike
+nor Creed entered this barn after a time, and no
+hay was put in, though Creed would not have been
+Creed if he had not sold off the bulk of what
+he had, ghost or no ghost. I can imagine him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span>
+slowly forking it out alone, daytimes, and the
+amount of hay still here proves that even he
+finally lost courage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I paused a moment, but though there was much
+uneasy stirring about, and the dismal clanking
+directly above us was incessant, no one of my
+audience spoke. It was wholly dark now, and I
+think all had drawn closer together.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About ten years ago people began calling
+Creed crazy.&rdquo; Here I was forced to interrupt my
+own story. &ldquo;I shall have to ask you, Miss
+Anstell, to stop annoying me. I have been aware
+for some moments that you are brushing my head
+with a straw, but I have ignored it for the sake
+of the others.&rdquo; Out of the darkness came Miss
+Anstell's voice, protesting earnestly, and I realized
+from the direction of the sound that in the general
+readjustment she must have settled down in the
+very center of our circle, and could not be the one
+at fault. One of the others was childish enough
+to simulate a mocking burst of raucous laughter,
+but I chose to ignore it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said I, graciously; &ldquo;shall I go on?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; echoed a subdued chorus.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the night of the twenty-eighth of May,
+ten years ago&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not the twenty-eighth,&rdquo; broke in my wife's
+voice, sharply; &ldquo;that is to-day's date.&rdquo; There was
+a note in her voice that I hardly recognized, but it
+indicated that she was in some way affected by my
+narration, and I felt a distinct sense of triumph.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the night of May twenty-eighth,&rdquo; I
+repeated firmly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you making up this story?&rdquo; my wife's
+voice continued, still with the same odd tone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am, my dear, and you are interrupting it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But an Ashley Turner and later a Peter Creed
+owned this place,&rdquo; she persisted almost in a
+whisper, &ldquo;and I am sure you never heard of them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I confess that I might wisely have broken off
+my story then and called for a light. There had
+been an hysterical note in my wife's voice, and I
+was startled at her words, for I had no conscious
+recollection of either name; yet I felt a resultant
+exhilaration. Our lanterns had grown strangely
+dim, though I was certain both had been recently
+trimmed and filled; and from their far corner of
+the barn they threw no light whatever into our
+circle. I faced an utter blackness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On that night,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;old Ike was wakened
+by sounds as of someone fumbling to unbar and
+open the housedoor. It was an unwonted hour,
+and he peered from the window of his little room.
+By the dim starlight&mdash;it was just before dawn&mdash;he
+could see all of the open yard and roadway before
+the house, with the great barn looming like a
+black and sinister shadow as its farther barrier.
+Crossing this space, he saw the figure of Peter
+Creed, grotesquely stooped and old in the obscuring
+gloom, moving slowly, almost gropingly, and
+yet directly, as though impelled, toward the barn's
+overwhelming shadow. Slowly he unbarred the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span>
+great door, swung it open, and entered the blacker
+shadows it concealed. The door closed after him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ike in his secure post of observation did not
+stir. He could not. Even to his crude imagining
+there was something utterly horrible in the thought
+of Creed alone at that hour in just such black
+darkness as this, with the great timbered chamber
+haunted at least by its dread memories. He could
+only wait, tense and fearful of he knew not what.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A shriek that pierced the silence relaxed his tension,
+bringing almost a sense of relief, so definite
+had been his expectancy. But it was a burst of
+shrill laughter, ribald, uncanny, undeniable, accompanying
+the shriek that gave him power of
+motion. He ran half naked a quarter of a mile to
+the nearest neighbor's and told his story.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<br />
+
+<p>&ldquo;They found Creed hanging, the rope hooked
+simply around his neck. It was a silent jury that
+filed from the barn that morning after viewing the
+body. 'Suicide,' said they, after Ike, shivering
+and stammering, had testified, harking back to
+the untold evidence of that other morning years
+before. Yes, Creed was dead, with a terrible
+look on his wizen face, and the dusty old rope ran
+through its pulley-wheel and was fast to a beam
+high above.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'He must of climbed to the beam, made the
+rope fast, and jumped,' said the foreman, solemnly.
+'He must of, he must of,' repeated the man, parrot-like,
+while the sweat stood out on his forehead,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span>
+'because there wasn't no other way; but as God
+is my judge, the knot in the rope and the dust on
+the beam ain't been disturbed for years.'&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At this dramatic climax there was an audible
+sigh from my audience. I sat quietly for a time,
+content to allow the silence and the atmosphere
+of the place, which actually seemed surcharged
+with influences not of my creation, to add
+to the effect my story had caused. There was
+scarcely a movement in our circle; of that I felt
+sure. And yet once more, out of the almost
+tangible darkness above me, something seemed
+to reach down and brush against my head. A
+slight motion of air, sufficient to disturb my rather
+scanty locks, was additional proof that I was
+the butt of some prank that had just missed its
+objective. Then, with a fearful suddenness, close
+to my ear burst a shrill discord of laughter, so uncanny
+and so unlike the usual sound of student
+merriment that I started up, half wondering if I
+had heard it. Almost immediately after it the
+heavy darkness was torn again by a shriek so
+terrible in its intensity as completely to differentiate
+it from the other cries which followed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bring a light!&rdquo; cried a voice that I recognized
+as that of my wife, though strangely distorted by
+emotion. There was a great confusion. Young
+women struggled from their places and impeded
+one another in the darkness; but finally, and it
+seemed an unbearable delay, someone brought
+a single lantern.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Its frail light revealed Miss Anstell half upright
+from her place in the center of our circle, my wife's
+arms sustaining her weight. Her face, as well as
+I could see it, seemed darkened and distorted,
+and when we forced her clutching hands away
+from her bared throat we could see, even in that
+light, the marks of an angry, throttling scar
+entirely encircling it. Just above her head the
+old pulley-rope swayed menacingly in the faint
+breeze.</p>
+
+<p>My recollection is even now confused as to the
+following moments and our stumbling escape from
+that gruesome spot. Miss Anstell is now at her
+home, recovering from what her physician calls
+mental shock. My wife will not speak of it. The
+questions I would ask her are checked on my lips
+by the look of utter terror in her eyes. As I have
+confessed to you, my own philosophy is hard put
+to it to withstand not so much the community
+attitude toward what they are pleased to call my
+taste in practical joking, but to assemble and
+adjust the facts of my experience.</p>
+<br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+
+<h3><a name="A_SHADY_PLOT" id="A_SHADY_PLOT"></a>A SHADY PLOT</h3>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> ELSIE BROWN</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>This story was submitted as a class exercise in one of my
+short-story classes at Columbia University. At my request the
+author, Elsie Brown, contributed it to this volume.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>A Shady Plot</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> ELSIE BROWN</h4>
+
+
+<p>So I sat down to write a ghost story.</p>
+
+<p>Jenkins was responsible.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hallock,&rdquo; he had said to me, &ldquo;give us another
+on the supernatural this time. Something to give
+'em the horrors; that's what the public wants,
+and your ghosts are live propositions.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Well, I was in no position to contradict Jenkins,
+for, as yet, his magazine had been the only one to
+print my stuff. So I had said, &ldquo;Precisely!&rdquo; in
+the deepest voice I was capable of, and had gone
+out.</p>
+
+<p>I hadn't the shade of an idea, but at the time
+that didn't worry me in the least. You see, I
+had often been like that before and in the end
+things had always come my way&mdash;I didn't in the
+least know how or why. It had all been rather
+mysterious. You understand I didn't specialize
+in ghost stories, but more or less they seemed to
+specialize in me. A ghost story had been the first
+fiction I had written. Curious how that idea for
+a plot had come to me out of nowhere after I had
+chased inspiration in vain for months! Even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span>
+now whenever Jenkins wanted a ghost, he called
+on me. And I had never found it healthy to contradict
+Jenkins. Jenkins always seemed to have
+an uncanny knowledge as to when the landlord
+or the grocer were pestering me, and he dunned
+me for a ghost. And somehow I'd always been
+able to dig one up for him, so I'd begun to get a
+bit cocky as to my ability.</p>
+
+<p>So I went home and sat down before my desk
+and sucked at the end of my pencil and waited,
+but nothing happened. Pretty soon my mind
+began to wander off on other things, decidedly
+unghostly and material things, such as my wife's
+shopping and how on earth I was going to cure her
+of her alarming tendency to take every new fad
+that came along and work it to death. But I
+realized <i>that</i> would never get me any place, so I
+went back to staring at the ceiling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This writing business <i>is</i> delightful, isn't it?&rdquo;
+I said sarcastically at last, out loud, too. You
+see, I had reached the stage of imbecility when I
+was talking to myself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said a voice at the other end of the
+room, &ldquo;I should say it is!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I admit I jumped. Then I looked around.</p>
+
+<p>It was twilight by this time and I had forgotten
+to turn on the lamp. The other end of the room
+was full of shadows and furniture. I sat staring
+at it and presently noticed something just taking
+shape. It was exactly like watching one of these
+moving picture cartoons being put together. First<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span>
+an arm came out, then a bit of sleeve of a stiff
+white shirtwaist, then a leg and a plaid skirt, until
+at last there she was complete,&mdash;whoever she was.</p>
+
+<p>She was long and angular, with enormous fishy
+eyes behind big bone-rimmed spectacles, and her
+hair in a tight wad at the back of her head (yes, I
+seemed able to see right through her head) and a
+jaw&mdash;well, it looked so solid that for the moment I
+began to doubt my very own senses and believe
+she was real after all.</p>
+
+<p>She came over and stood in front of me and
+glared&mdash;yes, positively glared down at me, although
+(to my knowledge) I had never laid eyes
+on the woman before, to say nothing of giving
+her cause to look at me like that.</p>
+
+<p>I sat still, feeling pretty helpless I can tell you,
+and at last she barked:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you gaping at?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I swallowed, though I hadn't been chewing
+anything.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Absolutely nothing. My
+dear lady, I was merely waiting for you to tell me
+why you had come. And excuse me, but do you
+always come in sections like this? I should think
+your parts might get mixed up sometimes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Didn't you send for me?&rdquo; she crisped.</p>
+
+<p>Imagine how I felt at that!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, no. I&mdash;I don't seem to remember&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look here. Haven't you been calling on
+heaven and earth all afternoon to help you write
+a story?&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I nodded, and then a possible explanation occurred
+to me and my spine got cold. Suppose
+this was the ghost of a stenographer applying for a
+job! I had had an advertisement in the paper
+recently. I opened my mouth to explain that the
+position was filled, and permanently so, but she
+stopped me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And when I got back to the office from my
+last case and was ready for you, didn't you switch
+off to something else and sit there driveling so I
+couldn't attract your attention until just now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I'm very sorry, really.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you needn't be, because I just came to
+tell you to stop bothering us for assistance; you
+ain't going to get it. We're going on Strike!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don't have to yell at me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I didn't mean to yell,&rdquo; I said humbly.
+&ldquo;But I'm afraid I didn't quite understand you.
+You said you were&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Going on strike. Don't you know what a
+strike is? Not another plot do you get from us!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I stared at her and wet my lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is&mdash;is that where they've been coming from?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course. Where else?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But my ghosts aren't a bit like you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If they were people wouldn't believe in them.&rdquo;
+She draped herself on the top of my desk among
+the pens and ink bottles and leaned towards me.
+&ldquo;In the other life <i>I</i> used to write.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You did!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She nodded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But that has nothing to do with my present
+form. It might have, but I gave it up at last for
+that very reason, and went to work as a reader on
+a magazine.&rdquo; She sighed, and rubbed the end of
+her long eagle nose with a reminiscent finger.
+&ldquo;Those were terrible days; the memory of them
+made me mistake purgatory for paradise, and at
+last when I attained my present state of being, I
+made up my mind that something should be done.
+I found others who had suffered similarly, and
+between us we organized 'The Writer's Inspiration
+Bureau.' We scout around until we find a writer
+without ideas and with a mind soft enough to accept
+impression. The case is brought to the attention
+of the main office, and one of us assigned to it.
+When that case is finished we bring in a report.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I never saw you before&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you wouldn't have this time if I hadn't
+come to announce the strike. Many a time I've
+leaned on your shoulder when you've thought <i>you</i>
+were thinking hard&mdash;&rdquo; I groaned, and clutched
+my hair. The very idea of that horrible scarecrow
+so much as touching me! and wouldn't
+my wife be shocked! I shivered. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; she continued,
+&ldquo;that's at an end. We've been called
+out of our beds a little too often in recent years,
+and now we're through.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But my dear madam, I assure you I have had
+nothing to do with that. I hope I'm properly
+grateful and all that, you see.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it isn't you,&rdquo; she explained patronizingly.
+&ldquo;It's those Ouija board fanatics. There was a
+time when we had nothing much to occupy us
+and used to haunt a little on the side, purely
+for amusement, but not any more. We've had
+to give up haunting almost entirely. We sit at
+a desk and answer questions now. And such
+questions!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head hopelessly, and taking off her
+glasses wiped them, and put them back on her
+nose again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what have I got to do with this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She gave me a pitying look and rose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You're to exert your influence. Get all your
+friends and acquaintances to stop using the Ouija
+board, and then we'll start helping you to write.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a footstep outside my door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John! Oh, John!&rdquo; called the voice of my wife.</p>
+
+<p>I waved my arms at the ghost with something
+of the motion of a beginner when learning to swim.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Madam, I must ask you to leave, and at once.
+Consider the impression if you were seen here&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The ghost nodded, and began, very sensibly,
+I thought, to demobilize and evaporate. First the
+brogans on her feet grew misty until I could see
+the floor through them, then the affection spread
+to her knees and gradually extended upward. By
+this time my wife was opening the door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don't forget the strike,&rdquo; she repeated, while
+her lower jaw began to disintegrate, and as my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span>
+Lavinia crossed the room to me the last vestige of
+her ear faded into space.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John, why in the world are you sitting in the
+dark?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just&mdash;thinking, my dear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thinking, rubbish! You were talking out
+loud.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I remained silent while she lit the lamps, thankful
+that her back was turned to me. When I am
+nervous or excited there is a muscle in my face
+that starts to twitch, and this pulls up one corner
+of my mouth and gives the appearance of an
+idiotic grin. So far I had managed to conceal
+this affliction from Lavinia.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know I bought the loveliest thing this
+afternoon. Everybody's wild over them!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I remembered her craze for taking up new fads
+and a premonitory chill crept up the back of my neck.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&mdash;it isn't&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; I began and stopped. I simply
+couldn't ask; the possibility was too horrible.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You'd never guess in the world. It's the
+duckiest, darlingest Ouija board, and so cheap!
+I got it at a bargain sale. Why, what's the
+matter, John?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I felt things slipping.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; I said, and looked around for the
+ghost. Suppose she had lingered, and upon hearing
+what my wife had said should suddenly appear&mdash;&mdash;Like
+all sensitive women, Lavinia was
+subject to hysterics.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you looked so funny&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I always do when I'm interested,&rdquo; I gulped.
+&ldquo;But don't you think that was a foolish thing to
+buy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Foolish! Oh, John! Foolish! And after me
+getting it for you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For me! What do you mean?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To help you write your stories. Why, for
+instance, suppose you wanted to write an historical
+novel. You wouldn't have to wear your eyes
+out over those musty old books in the public
+library. All you'd have to do would be to get
+out your Ouija and talk to Napoleon, or William
+the Conqueror, or Helen of Troy&mdash;well, maybe
+not Helen&mdash;anyhow you'd have all the local color
+you'd need, and without a speck of trouble. And
+think how easy writing your short stories will
+be now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But Lavinia, you surely don't believe in
+Ouija boards.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't know, John&mdash;they are awfully
+thrilling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She had seated herself on the arm of my chair
+and was looking dreamily across the room. I
+started and turned around. There was nothing
+there, and I sank back with relief. So far so good.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, certainly, they're thrilling all right.
+That's just it, they're a darn sight too thrilling.
+They're positively devilish. Now, Lavinia, you
+have plenty of sense, and I want you to get rid of
+that thing just as soon as you can. Take it back
+and get something else.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>My wife crossed her knees and stared at me
+through narrowed lids.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John Hallock,&rdquo; she said distinctly. &ldquo;I don't
+propose to do anything of the kind. In the first
+place they won't exchange things bought at a
+bargain sale, and in the second, if you aren't
+interested in the other world <i>I</i> am. So there!&rdquo;
+and she slid down and walked from the room before
+I could think of a single thing to say. She walked
+very huffily.</p>
+
+<p>Well, it was like that all the rest of the evening.
+Just as soon as I mentioned Ouija boards I felt
+things begin to cloud up; so I decided to let it go
+for the present, in the hope that she might be more
+reasonable later.</p>
+
+<p>After supper I had another try at the writing,
+but as my mind continued a perfect blank I gave
+it up and went off to bed.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was Saturday, and it being near
+the end of the month and a particularly busy day,
+I left home early without seeing Lavinia. Understand,
+I haven't quite reached the point where I
+can give my whole time to writing, and being
+bookkeeper for a lumber company does help with
+the grocery bills and pay for Lavinia's fancy shopping.
+Friday had been a half holiday, and of
+course when I got back the work was piled up
+pretty high; so high, in fact, that ghosts and stories
+and everything else vanished in a perfect tangle of
+figures.</p>
+
+<p>When I got off the street car that evening my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span>
+mind was still churning. I remember now that I
+noticed, even from the corner, how brightly the
+house was illuminated, but at the time that didn't
+mean anything to me. I recall as I went up the
+steps and opened the door I murmured:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nine times nine is eighty-one!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And then Gladolia met me in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Misto Hallock, de Missus sho t'inks you's lost!
+She say she done 'phone you dis mawnin' to be
+home early, but fo' de lawd's sake not to stop to
+argify now, but get ready fo' de company an' come
+on down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Some memory of a message given me by one of the
+clerks filtered back through my brain, but I had
+been hunting three lost receipts at the time, and
+had completely forgotten it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Company?&rdquo; I said stupidly. &ldquo;What
+company?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;De Missus's Ouija boahrd pahrty,&rdquo; said
+Gladolia, and rolling her eyes she disappeared in
+the direction of the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>I must have gone upstairs and dressed and come
+down again, for I presently found myself standing
+in the dimly lighted lower hall wearing my second
+best suit and a fresh shirt and collar. But I have
+no recollections of the process.</p>
+
+<p>There was a great chattering coming from our
+little parlor and I went over to the half-opened
+door and peered through.</p>
+
+<p>The room was full of women&mdash;most of them
+elderly&mdash;whom I recognized as belonging to my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span>
+wife's Book Club. They were sitting in couples,
+and between each couple was a Ouija board! The
+mournful squeak of the legs of the moving triangular
+things on which they rested their fingers
+filled the air and mixed in with the conversation.
+I looked around for the ghost with my heart sunk
+down to zero. What if Lavinia should see her
+and go mad before my eyes! And then my wife
+came and tapped me on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John,&rdquo; she said in her sweetest voice, and I
+noticed that her cheeks were very pink and her
+eyes very bright. My wife is never so pretty as
+when she's doing something she knows I disapprove
+of, &ldquo;John, dear I know you'll help us out.
+Mrs. William Augustus Wainright 'phoned at the
+last moment to say that she couldn't possibly
+come, and that leaves poor Laura Hinkle without
+a partner. Now, John, I know <i>some</i> people can
+work a Ouija by themselves, but Laura can't, and
+she'll just have a horrible time unless you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me!&rdquo; I gasped. &ldquo;Me! I won't&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; but even
+as I spoke she had taken my arm, and the next
+thing I knew I was sitting with the thing on my
+knees and Miss Laura Hinkle opposite, grinning
+in my face like a flirtatious crocodile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I won't&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; I began.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Mr. Hallock, don't you be shy.&rdquo; Miss
+Laura Hinkle leaned forward and shook a bony
+finger almost under my chin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I'm not! Only I say I won't&mdash;&mdash;!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, it's very easy, really. You just put the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span>
+tips of your fingers right here beside the tips of my
+fingers&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And the first thing I knew she had taken my
+hands and was coyly holding them in the position
+desired. She released them presently, and the
+little board began to slide around in an aimless
+sort of way. There seemed to be some force tugging
+it about. I looked at my partner, first with
+suspicion, and then with a vast relief. If she was
+doing it, then all that talk about spirits&mdash;&mdash;Oh,
+I did hope Miss Laura Hinkle was cheating with
+that board!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ouija, dear, won't you tell us something?&rdquo;
+she cooed, and on the instant the thing seemed to
+take life.</p>
+
+<p>It rushed to the upper left hand corner of the
+board and hovered with its front leg on the word
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; Then it began to fly around so fast that
+I gave up any attempt to follow it. My companion
+was bending forward and had started to
+spell out loud:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'T-r-a-i-t-o-r.' Traitor! Why, what does she
+mean?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; I said desperately. My collar
+felt very tight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But she must mean something. Ouija, dear,
+won't you explain yourself more fully?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'A-s-k-h-i-m!' Ask him. Ask who, Ouija?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I'm going.&rdquo; I choked and tried to get
+up but my fingers seemed stuck to that dreadful
+board and I dropped back again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Apparently Miss Hinkle had not heard my
+protest. The thing was going around faster than
+ever and she was reading the message silently,
+with her brow corrugated, and the light of the
+huntress in her pale blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, she says it's you, Mr. Hallock. What
+<i>does</i> she mean? Ouija, won't you tell us who is
+talking?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I groaned, but that inexorable board continued
+to spell. I always did hate a spelling match!
+Miss Hinkle was again following it aloud:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;'H-e-l-e-n.' Helen!&rdquo; She raised her voice
+until it could be heard at the other end of the room.
+&ldquo;Lavinia, dear, do you know anyone by the name
+of Helen?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By the name of&mdash;&mdash;? I can't hear you.&rdquo; And
+my wife made her way over to us between the
+Book Club's chairs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know the funniest thing has happened,&rdquo;
+she whispered excitedly. &ldquo;Someone had been
+trying to communicate with John through Mrs.
+Hunt's and Mrs. Sprinkle's Ouija! Someone by
+the name of Helen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, <i>isn't</i> that curious!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Hinkle simpered.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Someone giving the name of Helen has just
+been calling for your husband here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we don't know anyone by the name of
+Helen&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lavinia stopped and began to look at me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span>
+through narrowed lids much as she had done in
+the library the evening before.</p>
+
+<p>And then from different parts of the room other
+manipulators began to report. Every plagued
+one of those five Ouija boards was calling me by
+name! I felt my ears grow crimson, purple,
+maroon. My wife was looking at me as though I
+were some peculiar insect. The squeak of Ouija
+boards and the murmur of conversation rose louder
+and louder, and then I felt my face twitch in the
+spasm of that idiotic grin. I tried to straighten
+my wretched features into their usual semblance
+of humanity, I tried and&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Doesn't he look sly!&rdquo; said Miss Hinkle. And
+then I got up and fled from the room.</p>
+
+<p>I do not know how that party ended. I do not
+want to know. I went straight upstairs, and undressed
+and crawled into bed, and lay there in the
+burning dark while the last guest gurgled in the
+hall below about the wonderful evening she had
+spent. I lay there while the front door shut
+after her, and Lavinia's steps came up the
+stairs and&mdash;passed the door to the guest room
+beyond. And then after a couple of centuries
+elapsed the clock struck three and I dozed off to
+sleep.</p>
+
+<p>At the breakfast table the next morning there
+was no sign of my wife. I concluded she was
+sleeping late, but Gladolia, upon being questioned,
+only shook her head, muttered something, and
+turned the whites of her eyes up to the ceiling. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span>
+was glad when the meal was over and hurried to
+the library for another try at that story.</p>
+
+<p>I had hardly seated myself at the desk when
+there came a tap at the door and a white slip of
+paper slid under it. I unfolded it and read:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class="noindent">&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Dear John,</span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am going back to my grandmother. My
+lawyer will communicate with you later.&rdquo;</p></div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;Oh, I wish I was dead!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That's exactly what you ought to be!&rdquo; said
+that horrible voice from the other end of the room.</p>
+
+<p>I sat up abruptly&mdash;I had sunk into a chair under
+the blow of the letter&mdash;then I dropped back again
+and my hair rose in a thick prickle on the top of
+my head. Coming majestically across the floor
+towards me was a highly polished pair of thick
+laced shoes. I stared at them in a sort of dreadful
+fascination, and then something about their gait
+attracted my attention and I recognized them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See here,&rdquo; I said sternly. &ldquo;What do you
+mean by appearing here like this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>I</i> can't help it,&rdquo; said the voice, which seemed
+to come from a point about five and a half feet
+above the shoes. I raised my eyes and presently
+distinguished her round protruding mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why can't you? A nice way to act, to walk in
+in sections&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you'll give me time,&rdquo; said the mouth in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span>
+exasperated voice, &ldquo;I assure you the rest of me will
+presently arrive.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what's the matter with you? You never
+acted this way before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She seemed stung to make a violent effort, for a
+portion of a fishy eye and the end of her nose
+popped into view with a suddenness that made
+me jump.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It's all your fault.&rdquo; She glared at me, while
+part of her hair and her plaid skirt began slowly
+to take form.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My fault!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course. How can you keep a lady up
+working all night and then expect her to retain all
+her faculties the next day? I'm just too tired to
+materialize.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then why did you bother?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because I was sent to ask when your wife is
+going to get rid of that Ouija board.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How should I know! I wish to heaven I'd
+never seen you!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;Look what you've
+done! You've lost me my wife, you've lost me
+my home and happiness, you've&mdash;&mdash;you've&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Misto Hallock,&rdquo; came from the hall outside,
+&ldquo;Misto Hallock, I's gwine t' quit. I don't like
+no hoodoos.&rdquo; And the steps retreated.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You've&mdash;&mdash;you've lost me my cook&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn't come here to be abused,&rdquo; said the ghost
+coldly. &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And then the door opened and Lavinia entered.
+She wore the brown hat and coat she usually<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span>
+travels in and carried a suitcase which she set
+down on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>That suitcase had an air of solid finality about
+it, and its lock leered at me brassily.</p>
+
+<p>I leaped from my chair with unaccustomed
+agility and sprang in front of my wife. I must
+conceal that awful phantom from her, at any risk!</p>
+
+<p>She did not look at me, or&mdash;thank heaven!&mdash;behind
+me, but fixed her injured gaze upon the
+waste-basket, as if to wrest dark secrets from it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have come to tell you that I am leaving,&rdquo;
+she staccatoed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes, yes!&rdquo; I agreed, flapping my arms
+about to attract attention from the corner.
+&ldquo;That's fine&mdash;great!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So you want me to go, do you?&rdquo; she demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure, yes&mdash;right away! Change of air will
+do you good. I'll join you presently!&rdquo; If only
+she would go till Helen could <i>de</i>-part! I'd have
+the devil of a time explaining afterward, of course,
+but anything would be better than to have Lavinia
+see a ghost. Why, that sensitive little woman
+couldn't bear to have a mouse say boo at her&mdash;and
+what would she say to a ghost in her own living-room?</p>
+
+<p>Lavinia cast a cold eye upon me. &ldquo;You are
+acting very queerly,&rdquo; she sniffed. &ldquo;You are concealing
+something from me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then the door opened and Gladolia called,
+&ldquo;Mis' Hallock! Mis' Hallock! I've come to tell
+you I'se done lef' dis place.&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>My wife turned her head a moment. &ldquo;But
+why, Gladolia?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I ain't stayin' round no place 'long wid dem
+Ouija board contraptions. I'se skeered of hoodoos.
+I's done gone, I is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is that all you've got to complain about?&rdquo;
+Lavinia inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, ma'am.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, then. Go back to the kitchen. You
+can use the board for kindling wood.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who? Me touch dat t'ing? No, ma'am,
+not dis nigger!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I'll be the coon to burn it,&rdquo; I shouted. &ldquo;I'll
+be glad to burn it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Gladolia's heavy steps moved off kitchenward.</p>
+
+<p>Then my Lavinia turned waspishly to me again.
+&ldquo;John, there's not a bit of use trying to deceive me.
+What is it you are trying to conceal from me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who? Me? Oh, no,&rdquo; I lied elaborately,
+looking around to see if that dratted ghost was
+concealed enough. She was so big, and I'm rather
+a smallish man. But that was a bad move on my
+part.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;John,&rdquo; Lavinia demanded like a ward boss,
+&ldquo;you are hiding some<i>body</i> in here! Who is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I only waved denial and gurgled in my throat.
+She went on, &ldquo;It's bad enough to have you flirt
+over the Ouija board with that hussy&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, the affair was quite above-board, I assure
+you, my love!&rdquo; I cried, leaping lithely about to
+keep her from focusing her gaze behind me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She thrust me back with sudden muscle. &ldquo;<i>I
+will</i> see who's behind you! Where is that Helen?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me? I'm Helen,&rdquo; came from the ghost.</p>
+
+<p>Lavinia looked at that apparition, that owl-eyed
+phantom, in plaid skirt and stiff shirtwaist,
+with hair skewed back and no powder on her nose.
+I threw a protecting husbandly arm about her to
+catch her when she should faint. But she didn't
+swoon. A broad, satisfied smile spread over her
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I thought you were Helen of Troy,&rdquo; she
+murmured.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I used to be Helen of Troy, New York,&rdquo; said
+the ghost. &ldquo;And now I'll be moving along, if
+you'll excuse me. See you later.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>With that she telescoped briskly, till we saw
+only a hand waving farewell.</p>
+
+<p>My Lavinia fell forgivingly into my arms. I
+kissed her once or twice fervently, and then I
+shoved her aside, for I felt a sudden strong desire
+to write. The sheets of paper on my desk spread
+invitingly before me.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I've got the bulliest plot for a ghost story!&rdquo;
+I cried.</p>
+<br /><br /><br />
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422"></a></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_LADY_AND_THE_GHOST" id="THE_LADY_AND_THE_GHOST"></a>THE LADY AND THE GHOST</h2>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> ROSE CECIL O'NEILL</h4>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>From the <i>Cosmopolitan Magazine</i>. By permission of John
+Brisben Walker and Rose O'Neill.</p></div>
+<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">Top</a></span>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>The Lady and the Ghost</h2>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span></p>
+<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> ROSE CECIL O'NEILL</h4>
+
+
+<p>It was some moments before the Lady became
+rationally convinced that there was something
+occurring in the corner of the room, and then the
+actual nature of the thing was still far from clear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To put it as mildly as possible,&rdquo; she murmured,
+&ldquo;the thing verges upon the uncanny&rdquo;; and, leaning
+forward upon her silken knees, she attended
+upon the phenomenon.</p>
+
+<p>At first it had seemed like some faint and unexplained
+atmospheric derangement, occasioned,
+apparently, neither by an opened window nor by
+a door. Some papers fluttered to the floor, the
+fringes of the hangings softly waved, and, indeed,
+it would still have been easy to dismiss the matter
+as the effect of a vagrant draft had not the state
+of things suddenly grown unmistakably unusual.
+All the air of the room, it then appeared, rushed
+even with violence to the point and there underwent
+what impressed her as an aerial convulsion,
+in the very midst and well-spring of which, so
+great was the confusion, there seemed to appear
+at intervals almost the semblance of a shape.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The silence of the room was disturbed by a book
+that flew open with fluttering leaves, the noise of a
+vase of violets blown over, from which the perfumed
+water dripped to the floor, and soft touchings
+all around as of a breeze passing through a
+chamber full of trifles.</p>
+
+<p>The ringlets of the Lady's hair were swept forward
+toward the corner upon which her gaze was
+fixed, and in which the conditions had now grown
+so tense with imminent occurrence and so rent
+with some inconceivable throe that she involuntarily
+rose, and, stepping forward against the
+pressure of her petticoats which were blown about
+her ankles, she impatiently thrust her hand into
+the&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>She was immediately aware that another hand
+had received it, though with a far from substantial
+envelopment, and for another moment what
+she saw before her trembled between something
+and nothing. Then from the precarious situation
+there slowly emerged into dubious view the shape
+of a young man dressed in evening clothes over
+which was flung a mantle of voluminous folds
+such as is worn by ghosts of fashion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The very deuce was in it!&rdquo; he complained; &ldquo;I
+thought I should never materialize.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She flung herself into her chair, confounded;
+yet, even in the shock of the emergency, true to
+herself, she did not fail to smooth her ruffled locks.</p>
+
+<p>Her visitor had been scanning his person in a
+dissatisfied way, and with some vexation he now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span>
+ejaculated: &ldquo;Beg your pardon, my dear, but are
+my feet on the floor, or where in thunder are
+they?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was with a tone of reassurance that she confessed
+that his patent-leathers were the trivial
+matter of two or three inches from the rug.
+Whereupon, with still another effort, he brought
+himself down until his feet rested decently upon
+the floor. It was only when he walked about to
+examine the bric-&agrave;-brac that a suspicious lightness
+was discernible in his tread.</p>
+
+<p>When he had composed himself by the survey,
+effecting it with an air of great insouciance, which,
+however, failed to conceal the fact that his heart
+was beating somewhat wildly, he approached the
+Lady.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, here we are again, my love!&rdquo; he cried,
+and devoured her hands with ghostly kisses. &ldquo;It
+seems an eternity that I've been struggling back
+to you through the outer void and what-not.
+Sometimes, I confess I all but despaired. Life is
+not, I assure you, all beer and skittles for the
+disembodied.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He drew a long breath, and his gaze upon her
+and the entire chamber seemed to envelop all and
+cherish it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Little room, little room! And so you are
+thus! Do you know,&rdquo; he continued, with vivacity,
+&ldquo;I have wondered about it in the grave, and I
+could hardly sleep for this place unpenetrated.
+Heigho! What a lot of things we leave undone!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span>
+I dashed this off at the time, the literary passion
+strong in me, thus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Now, when all is done, and I lie so low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I cannot sleep for this, my only care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For though of that dim place I could not know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That where my heart was fain I did not go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nor saw you musing there!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well, these things irk a ghost so. Naturally,
+as soon as possible I made my way back&mdash;to be satisfied&mdash;to
+be satisfied that you were still
+mine.&rdquo; He bent a piercing look upon her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I observe by the calendar on your writing-table
+that some years have elapsed since my&mdash;&mdash;um&mdash;&mdash;since
+I expired,&rdquo; he added, with a faint
+blush. It appears that the matter of their dissolution
+is, in conversation, rather kept in the
+background by well-bred ghosts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Heigho! How time does fly! You'll be joining
+me soon, my dear.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She drew herself splendidly up, and he was
+aware of her beauty in the full of its tenacious
+excellence&mdash;of the delicate insolence of Life looking
+upon Death&mdash;of the fact <i>that she had forgotten him</i>.</p>
+
+<p>He rose, and confronted this, his trembling
+hands thrust into his pockets, then turned away
+to hide the dismay of his countenance. He was,
+however, a spook of considerable spirit, and in a
+jiffy he met the occasion. To her blank, indignant
+gaze he drew a card from his case, and, taking a pencil
+from the secretary, wrote, beneath the name:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">Quiet to the breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wheresoe'er it be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That gave an hour's rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To the heart of me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quiet to the breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Till it lieth dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the heart be clay<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where I visited.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quiet to the breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Though forgetting quite<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The guest it sheltered once;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To the heart, good night!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Handing her the card he bowed, and, through
+force of habit, turned to the door, forgetting that
+his ghostly pressure would not turn the knob.</p>
+
+<p>As the door did not open, with a sigh of recollection
+for his spiritual condition, he prepared to disappear,
+casting one last look at the faithless Lady.
+She was still looking at the card in her hand, and
+the tears ran down her face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She has remembered,&rdquo; he reflected; &ldquo;how
+courteous!&rdquo; For a moment it seemed he could
+contain his disappointment, discreetly removing
+himself now at what he felt was the vanishing-point,
+with the customary reticence of the dead, but feeling
+overcame him. In an instant he had her in
+his arms, and was pouring out his love, his reproaches,
+the story of his longing, his doubts, his
+discontent, and his desperate journey back to earth
+for a sight of her. &ldquo;And, ah!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;picture
+my agony at finding that you had forgotten. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span>
+yet I surmised it in the gloom. I divined it by
+my restlessness and my despair. Perhaps some
+lines that occurred to me will suggest the thing to
+you&mdash;you recall my old knack for versification?</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Where the grasses weep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O'er his darkling bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the glow-worms creep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lies the weary head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of one laid deep, who cannot sleep:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The unremembered dead.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He took a chair beside her, and spoke of their
+old love for each other, of his fealty through all
+transmutations; incidentally of her beauty, of her
+cruelty, of the light of her face which had illumined
+his darksome way to her&mdash;and of a lot of other
+things&mdash;and the Lady bowed her head, and wept.</p>
+
+<p>The hours of the night passed thus: the moon
+waned, and a pallor began to tinge the dusky cheek
+of the east, but the eloquence of the visitor still
+flowed on, and the Lady had his misty hands
+clasped to her reawakened bosom. At last a
+suspicion of rosiness touched the curtain. He
+abruptly rose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot hold out against the morning,&rdquo; he
+said; &ldquo;it is time all good ghosts were in bed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But she threw herself on her knees before him,
+clasping his ethereal waist with a despairing
+embrace.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, do not leave me,&rdquo; she cried, &ldquo;or my love
+will kill me!&rdquo;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He bent eagerly above her. &ldquo;Say it again&mdash;convince
+me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I love you,&rdquo; she cried, again and again and
+again, with such an anguish of sincerity as would
+convince the most skeptical spook that ever
+revisited the glimpses of the moon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will forget again,&rdquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall never forget!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;My life
+will henceforth be one continual remembrance of
+you, one long act of devotion to your memory,
+one oblation, one unceasing penitence, one agony
+of waiting!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He lifted her face, and saw that it was true.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said he, gracefully wrapping his cloak
+about him, &ldquo;well, now I shall have a little peace.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He kissed her, with a certain jaunty grace, upon
+her hair, and prepared to dissolve, while he lightly
+tapped a tattoo upon his leg with the dove-colored
+gloves he carried.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good-by, my dear!&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;henceforth I
+shall sleep o' nights; my heart is quite at rest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But mine is breaking,&rdquo; she wailed, madly
+trying once more to clasp his vanishing form.</p>
+
+<p>He threw her a kiss from his misty finger-tips,
+and all that remained with her, besides her broken
+heart, was a faint disturbance of the air.</p>
+
+
+<div class="trans-note">
+<h4>Transcriber's Notes</h4>
+
+<ul>
+<li><a href="#Page_25">Page 25</a>&mdash;Possible typo, but left it as the original. &ldquo;...and contented
+himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in <b>list</b>
+slippers,...&rdquo;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_25">Page 25</a>&mdash;arquebuse&mdash;printer typo corrected to arquebus.</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_231">Page 231</a>&mdash;setting&mdash;printer typo corrected to sitting.</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_255">Page 255</a>&mdash;missing word &ldquo;have&rdquo; inserted to: &ldquo;But now I'll none of you,
+for you've played with me.&rdquo;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_304">Page 304</a>&mdash;Potential typo. &ldquo;...walkin' round an' round the graveyard
+<b>lie</b> a six days' race fer the belt at Madison Square.&rdquo;</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_325">Page 325</a>&mdash;inpatient&mdash;typo corrected to impatient. Although inpatient is
+a valid word, it is incorrectly used in this instance.</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_345">Page 345</a>&mdash;is&mdash;printer typo corrected to in.</li>
+
+<li><a href="#Page_408">Page 408</a>&mdash;Possible typo, but left it as in the original. &ldquo;...then the
+<b>affection</b> spread to her knees and gradually extended upward.&rdquo;</li>
+
+<li>Several instances of variant spelling of reci-pe and recipe. Left as in
+the original.</li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="bbox2">
+<h2>From</h2>
+<h1>A Southern Porch</h1>
+
+<h4>By<br />
+<br />
+Dorothy Scarborough<br />
+<br />
+<i>A Book of Whimsy</i></h4>
+
+<p>The author does not preach the lost art of loafing.
+No! Nothing so direct as preaching. She
+merely loafs,&mdash;consistently, restfully, delightfully,
+but with an almost fatal hypnotic persuasiveness.
+She is a sort of stationary Pied Piper, luring the
+unwary reader to her sun-flecked porch, to watch
+with her the queer procession of created things
+go by,&mdash;from lovers and ghosts to lizards and
+toads.</p>
+
+<p>Under the spell, convinced that loafing is better
+than doing, the reader stays and chuckles over
+the quiet humor and quaint fancies. He gets
+away finally,&mdash;all delightful experiences must
+end in this work-a-day world,&mdash;still chuckling,
+but with a renewed sense of life and life's values.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<h3><span class="g">G. P. Putnam's Sons</span></h3>
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Whismy" width="60%">
+<tr><td align='left'>New York</td><td align='right'>London</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+</div>
+
+<br /><br />
+
+<div class="bbox2">
+<h1>The<br />
+Kiltartan<br />
+Poetry Book</h1>
+
+<h4><i>Prose Translations from the Irish</i></h4>
+
+<h3>By<br />
+<br />
+Lady Gregory</h3>
+<br />
+<div class="center">Author of &ldquo;Irish Folk-History Plays,&rdquo; &ldquo;Seven Short<br />
+Plays,&rdquo; &ldquo;Our Irish Theatre,&rdquo; etc.<br />
+</div>
+
+<p>Certainly no single individual has done more
+than Lady Gregory to revive the Irish Literature,
+and to bring again to light the brave
+old legends, the old heroic poems. From her
+childhood, the author has studied this ancient
+language, and has collected most of her material
+from close association with the peasants
+who have inherited these poems and tales.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+<h3><span class="g">G. P. Putnam's Sons</span></h3>
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Kiltartan" width="60%">
+<tr><td align='left'>New York</td><td align='right'>London</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Humorous Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough
+
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+</body>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Humorous Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Humorous Ghost Stories
+
+Author: Dorothy Scarborough
+
+Release Date: October 18, 2008 [EBook #26950]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Marcia Brooks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+book was produced from scanned images of public domain
+material from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES
+
+
+
+
+HUMOROUS GHOST
+STORIES
+
+SELECTED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION
+
+BY
+
+DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH, PH.D.
+
+LECTURER IN ENGLISH, COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
+AUTHOR OF "THE SUPERNATURAL IN MODERN ENGLISH FICTION,"
+"FUGITIVE VERSES," "FROM A SOUTHERN PORCH," ETC.
+COMPILER OF "FAMOUS MODERN GHOST STORIES"
+
+G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
+
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+The Knickerbocker Press
+
+1921
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1921
+
+BY
+
+DOROTHY SCARBOROUGH
+
+_Printed in the United States of America_
+
+
+
+
+    To
+
+    DR. AND MRS. JOHN T. HARRINGTON
+
+    _Life flings miles and years between us,
+        It is true,--
+    But brings never to me dearer
+        Friends than you!_
+
+
+
+
+The Humorous Ghost
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The humorous ghost is distinctly a modern character. In early literature
+wraiths took themselves very seriously, and insisted on a proper show of
+respectful fear on the part of those whom they honored by haunting. A
+mortal was expected to rise when a ghost entered the room, and in case
+he was slow about it, his spine gave notice of what etiquette demanded.
+In the event of outdoor apparition, if a man failed to bare his head in
+awe, the roots of his hair reminded him of his remissness. Woman has
+always had the advantage over man in such emergency, in that her locks,
+being long and pinned up, are less easily moved--which may explain the
+fact (if it be a fact!) that in fiction women have shown themselves more
+self-possessed in ghostly presence than men. Or possibly a woman knows
+that a masculine spook is, after all, only a man, and therefore may be
+charmed into helplessness, while the feminine can be seen through by
+another woman and thus disarmed. The majority of the comic apparitions,
+curiously enough, are masculine. You don't often find women wraithed in
+smiles--perhaps because they resent being made ridiculous, even after
+they're dead. Or maybe the reason lies in the fact that men have
+written most of the comic or satiric ghost stories, and have
+chivalrously spared the gentler shades. And there are very few funny
+child-ghosts--you might almost say none, in comparison with the number
+of grown-ups. The number of ghost children of any or all types is small
+proportionately--perhaps because it seems an unnatural thing for a child
+to die under any circumstances, while to make of him a butt for jokes
+would be unfeeling. There are a few instances, as in the case of the
+ghost baby mentioned later, but very few.
+
+Ancient ghosts were a long-faced lot. They didn't know how to play at
+all. They had been brought up in stern repression of frivolities as
+haunters--no matter how sportive they may have been in life--and in turn
+they cowed mortals into a servile submission. No doubt they thought of
+men and women as mere youngsters that must be taught their place, since
+any living person, however senile, would be thought juvenile compared
+with a timeless spook.
+
+But in these days of individualism and radical liberalism, spooks as
+well as mortals are expanding their personalities and indulging in
+greater freedom. A ghost can call his shade his own now, and exhibit any
+mood he pleases. Even young female wraiths, demanding latchkeys, refuse
+to obey the frowning face of the clock, and engage in light-hearted
+ebullience to make the ghost of Mrs. Grundy turn a shade paler in
+horror. Nowadays haunters have more fun and freedom than the haunted. In
+fact, it's money in one's pocket these days to be dead, for ghosts have
+no rent problems, and dead men pay no bills. What officer would
+willingly pursue a ghostly tenant to his last lodging in order to serve
+summons on him? And suppose a ghost brought into court demanded trial by
+a jury of his peers? No--manifestly death has compensations not
+connected with the consolations of religion.
+
+The marvel is that apparitions were so long in realizing their
+possibilities, in improving their advantages. The specters in classic
+and medieval literature were malarial, vaporous beings without energy to
+do anything but threaten, and mortals never would have trembled with
+fear at their frown if they had known how feeble they were. At best a
+revenant could only rattle a rusty skeleton, or shake a moldy shroud, or
+clank a chain--but as mortals cowered before his demonstrations, he
+didn't worry. If he wished to evoke the extreme of anguish from his
+host, he raised a menacing arm and uttered a windy word or two. Now it
+takes more than that to produce a panic. The up-to-date ghost keeps his
+skeleton in a garage or some place where it is cleaned and oiled and
+kept in good working order. The modern wraith has sold his sheet to the
+old clo'es man, and dresses as in life. Now the ghost has learned to
+have a variety of good times, and he can make the living squirm far
+more satisfyingly than in the past. The spook of to-day enjoys making
+his haunted laugh even while he groans in terror. He knows that there's
+no weapon, no threat, in horror, to be compared with ridicule.
+
+Think what a solemn creature the Gothic ghost was! How little
+originality and initiative he showed and how dependent he was on his own
+atmosphere for thrills! His sole appeal was to the spinal column. The
+ghost of to-day touches the funny bone as well. He adds new horrors to
+being haunted, but new pleasures also. The modern specter can be a
+joyous creature on occasion, as he can be, when he wishes, fearsome
+beyond the dreams of classic or Gothic revenant. He has a keen sense of
+humor and loves a good joke on a mortal, while he can even enjoy one on
+himself. Though his fun is of comparatively recent origin--it's less
+than a century since he learned to crack a smile--the laughing ghost is
+very much alive and sportively active. Some of these new spooks are
+notoriously good company. Many Americans there are to-day who would
+court being haunted by the captain and crew of Richard Middleton's Ghost
+Ship that landed in a turnip field and dispensed drink till they
+demoralized the denizens of village and graveyard alike. After that show
+of spirits, the turnips in that field tasted of rum, long after the
+ghost ship had sailed away into the blue.
+
+The modern spook is possessed not only of humor but of a caustic satire
+as well. His jest is likely to have more than one point to it, and he
+can haunt so insidiously, can make himself so at home in his host's
+study or bedroom that a man actually welcomes a chat with him--only to
+find out too late that his human foibles have been mercilessly flayed.
+Pity the poor chap in H. C. Bunner's story, _The Interfering Spook_, for
+instance, who was visited nightly by a specter that repeated to him all
+the silly and trite things he had said during the day, a ghost,
+moreover, that towered and swelled at every hackneyed phrase, till
+finally he filled the room and burst after the young man proposed to his
+admired one, and made subsequent remarks. Ghosts not only have
+appallingly long memories, but they possess a mean advantage over the
+living in that they have once been mortal, while the men and women they
+haunt haven't yet been ghosts. Suppose each one of us were to be haunted
+by his own inane utterances? True, we're told that we'll have to give
+account Some Day for every idle word, but recording angels seem more
+sympathetic than a sneering ghost at one's elbow. Ghosts can satirize
+more fittingly than anyone else the absurdities of certain psychic
+claims, as witness the delightful seriousness of the story _Back from
+that Bourne_, which appeared as a front page news story in the New York
+_Sun_ years ago. I should think that some of the futile, laggard
+messenger-boy ghosts that one reads about nowadays would blush with
+shame before the wholesome raillery of the porgy fisherman.
+
+The modern humorous ghost satirizes everything from the old-fashioned
+specter (he's very fond of taking pot-shots at him) to the latest
+psychic manifestations. He laughs at ghosts that aren't experts in
+efficiency haunting, and he has a lot of fun out of mortals for being
+scared of specters. He loves to shake the lugubrious terrors of the past
+before you, exposing their hollow futility, and he contrives to create
+new fears for you magically while you are laughing at him.
+
+The new ghost hates conventionality and uses the old thrills only to
+show what dead batteries they come from. His really electrical effects
+are his own inventions. He needs no dungeon keeps and monkish cells to
+play about in--not he! He demands no rag nor bone nor clank of chain of
+his old equipment to start on his career. He can start up a moving
+picture show of his own, as in Ruth McEnery Stuart's _The Haunted
+Photograph_, and demonstrate a new kind of apparition. The ghost story
+of to-day gives you spinal sensations with a difference, as in the
+immortal _Transferred Ghost_, by Frank R. Stockton, where the suitor on
+the moonlit porch, attempting to tell his fair one that he dotes on her,
+sees the ghost of her ferocious uncle (who isn't dead!) kicking his
+heels against the railing, and hears his admonition that he'd better
+hurry up, as the live uncle is coming in sight. The thrill with which
+you read of the ghost in Ellis Parker Butler's _The Late John Wiggins_,
+who deposits his wooden leg with the family he is haunting, on the plea
+that it is too materialistic to be worn with ease, and therefore they
+must take care of it for him, doesn't altogether leave you even when you
+discover that the late John is a fraud, has never been a ghost nor used
+a wooden leg. But a terrifying leg-acy while you do believe in it!
+
+The new ghost has a more nimble and versatile tongue as well as wit. In
+the older fiction and drama apparitions spoke seldom, and then merely as
+_ghosts_, not as individuals. And ghosts, like kings in drama, were of a
+dignity and must preserve it in their speech. Or perhaps the authors
+were doubtful as to the dialogue of shades, and compromised on a few
+stately ejaculations as being safely phantasmal speaking parts. But
+compare that usage with the rude freedom of some modern spooks, as John
+Kendrick Bangs's spectral cook of Bangletop, who lets fall her h's and
+twists grammar in a rare and diverting manner. For myself, I'd hate to
+be an old-fashioned ghost with no chance to keep up with the styles in
+slang. Think of having always--and always--to speak a dead language!
+
+The humorous ghost is not only modern, but he is distinctively American.
+There are ghosts of all nationalities, naturally, but the spook that
+provides a joke--on his host or on himself--is Yankee in origin and
+development. The dry humor, the comic sense of the incongruous, the
+willingness to laugh at himself as at others, carry over into
+immaterialization as characteristic American qualities and are preserved
+in their true flavor. I don't assert, of course, that Americans have
+been the only ones in this field. The French and English selections in
+this volume are sufficient to prove the contrary. Gautier's _The Mummy's
+Foot_ has a humor of a lightness and grace as delicate as the princess's
+little foot itself. There are various English stories of whimsical
+haunting, some of actual spooks and some of the hoax type. Hoax ghosts
+are fairly numerous in British as in American literature, one of the
+early specimens of the kind being _The Specter of Tappington_ in the
+_Ingoldsby Legends_. The files of _Blackwood's Magazine_ reveal several
+examples, though not of high literary value.
+
+Of the early specimens of the really amusing ghost that is an actual
+revenant is _The Ghost Baby_, in _Blackwood's_, which shows originality
+and humor, yet is too diffuse for printing here. In that we have a
+conventional young bachelor, engaged to a charming girl, who is
+entangled in social complications and made to suffer mental torment
+because, without his consent, he has been chosen as the nurse and
+guardian of a ghost baby that cradles after him wherever he goes. This
+is a rich story almost spoiled by being poorly told. I sigh to think of
+the laughs that Frank R. Stockton or John Kendrick Bangs or Gelett
+Burgess could have got out of the situation. There are other comic
+British spooks, as in Baring-Gould's _A Happy Release_, where a widow
+and a widower in love are haunted by the jealous ghosts of their
+respective spouses, till the phantom couple take a liking to each other
+and decide to let the living bury their dead. This is suggestive of
+Brander Matthews's earlier and cleverer story of a spectral courtship,
+in _The Rival Ghosts_. Medieval and later literature gave us many
+instances of a love affair or marriage between one spirit and one
+mortal, but it remained for the modern American to celebrate the
+nuptials of two ghosts. Think of being married when you know that you
+and the other party are going to live ever after--whether happily or no!
+Truly, the present terrors are more fearsome than the old!
+
+The stories by Eden Phillpotts and Richard Middleton in this collection
+show the diversity of the English humor as associated with apparitions,
+and are entertaining in themselves. The _Canterville Ghost_, by Oscar
+Wilde, is one of his best short stories and is in his happiest vein of
+laughing satire. This travesty on the conventional traditions of the
+wraith is preposterously delightful, one of the cleverest ghost stories
+in our language. Zangwill has written engagingly of spooks, with a
+laughable story about Samuel Johnson. And there are others. But the fact
+remains that in spite of conceded and admirable examples, the humorous
+ghost story is for the most part American in creation and spirit.
+Washington Irving might be said to have started that fashion in
+skeletons and shades, for he has given us various comic haunters, some
+real and some make-believe. Frank R. Stockton gave his to funny spooks
+with a riotous and laughing pen. The spirit in his _Transferred Ghost_
+is impudently deathless, and has called up a train of subsequent
+haunters. John Kendrick Bangs has made the darker regions seem
+comfortable and homelike for us, and has created ghosts so human and so
+funny that we look forward to being one--or more. We feel downright
+neighborly toward such specters as the futile "last ghost" Nelson Lloyd
+evokes for us, as we appreciate the satire of Rose O'Neill's
+sophisticated wraith. The daring concept of Gelett Burgess's Ghost
+Extinguisher is altogether American. The field is still comparatively
+limited, but a number of Americans have done distinctive work in it. The
+specter now wears motley instead of a shroud, and shakes his jester's
+bells the while he rattles his bones. I dare any, however grouchy,
+reader to finish the stories in this volume without having a kindlier
+feeling toward ghosts!
+
+D. S.
+
+NEW YORK,
+_March, 1921._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                     PAGE
+
+INTRODUCTION: THE HUMOROUS GHOST      vii
+
+THE CANTERVILLE GHOST                   3
+  BY OSCAR WILDE
+
+THE GHOST-EXTINGUISHER                 51
+  BY GELETT BURGESS
+
+"DEY AIN'T NO GHOSTS"                  69
+  BY ELLIS PARKER BUTLER
+
+THE TRANSFERRED GHOST                  89
+  BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+THE MUMMY'S FOOT                      109
+  BY THEOPHILE GAUTIER
+
+THE RIVAL GHOSTS                      129
+  BY BRANDER MATTHEWS
+
+THE WATER GHOST OF HARROWBY HALL      159
+  BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+BACK FROM THAT BOURNE                 175
+  ANONYMOUS
+
+THE GHOST-SHIP                        187
+  BY RICHARD MIDDLETON
+
+THE TRANSPLANTED GHOST                205
+  BY WALLACE IRWIN
+
+THE LAST GHOST IN HARMONY             229
+  BY NELSON LLOYD
+
+THE GHOST OF MISER BRIMPSON           247
+  BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
+
+THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH                275
+  BY RUTH MCENERY STUART
+
+THE GHOST THAT GOT THE BUTTON         295
+  BY WILL ADAMS
+
+THE SPECTER BRIDEGROOM                315
+  BY WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+THE SPECTER OF TAPPINGTON             341
+  COMPILED BY RICHARD BARHAM
+
+IN THE BARN                           385
+  BY BURGES JOHNSON
+
+A SHADY PLOT                          403
+  BY ELSIE BROWN
+
+THE LADY AND THE GHOST                425
+  BY ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
+
+
+
+
+HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES
+
+
+
+
+THE CANTERVILLE GHOST
+
+_An amusing chronicle of the tribulations of the Ghost of Canterville
+Chase when his ancestral halls became the home of the American Minister
+to the Court of St. James._
+
+BY OSCAR WILDE
+
+
+
+
+The Canterville Ghost
+
+BY OSCAR WILDE
+
+
+I
+
+When Mr. Hiram B. Otis, the American Minister, bought Canterville Chase,
+everyone told him he was doing a very foolish thing, as there was no
+doubt at all that the place was haunted. Indeed, Lord Canterville
+himself, who was a man of the most punctilious honor, had felt it his
+duty to mention the fact to Mr. Otis when they came to discuss terms.
+
+"We have not cared to live in the place ourselves," said Lord
+Canterville, "since my grand-aunt, the Dowager Duchess of Bolton, was
+frightened into a fit, from which she never really recovered, by two
+skeleton hands being placed on her shoulders as she was dressing for
+dinner, and I feel bound to tell you, Mr. Otis, that the ghost has been
+seen by several living members of my family, as well as by the rector of
+the parish, the Rev. Augustus Dampier, who is a Fellow of King's
+College, Cambridge. After the unfortunate accident to the Duchess, none
+of our younger servants would stay with us, and Lady Canterville often
+got very little sleep at night, in consequence of the mysterious noises
+that came from the corridor and the library."
+
+"My Lord," answered the Minister, "I will take the furniture and the
+ghost at a valuation. I have come from a modern country, where we have
+everything that money can buy; and with all our spry young fellows
+painting the Old World red, and carrying off your best actors and
+prima-donnas, I reckon that if there were such a thing as a ghost in
+Europe, we'd have it at home in a very short time in one of our public
+museums, or on the road as a show."
+
+"I fear that the ghost exists," said Lord Canterville, smiling, "though
+it may have resisted the overtures of your enterprising impresarios. It
+has been well known for three centuries, since 1584 in fact, and always
+makes its appearance before the death of any member of our family."
+
+"Well, so does the family doctor for that matter, Lord Canterville. But
+there is no such thing, sir, as a ghost, and I guess the laws of Nature
+are not going to be suspended for the British aristocracy."
+
+"You are certainly very natural in America," answered Lord Canterville,
+who did not quite understand Mr. Otis's last observation, "and if you
+don't mind a ghost in the house, it is all right. Only you must remember
+I warned you."
+
+A few weeks after this, the purchase was concluded, and at the close of
+the season the Minister and his family went down to Canterville Chase.
+Mrs. Otis, who, as Miss Lucretia R. Tappan, of West 53d Street, had been
+a celebrated New York belle, was now a very handsome, middle-aged woman,
+with fine eyes, and a superb profile. Many American ladies on leaving
+their native land adopt an appearance of chronic ill-health, under the
+impression that it is a form of European refinement, but Mrs. Otis had
+never fallen into this error. She had a magnificent constitution, and a
+really wonderful amount of animal spirits. Indeed, in many respects, she
+was quite English, and was an excellent example of the fact that we have
+really everything in common with America nowadays, except, of course,
+language. Her eldest son, christened Washington by his parents in a
+moment of patriotism, which he never ceased to regret, was a
+fair-haired, rather good-looking young man, who had qualified himself
+for American diplomacy by leading the German at the Newport Casino for
+three successive seasons, and even in London was well known as an
+excellent dancer. Gardenias and the peerage were his only weaknesses.
+Otherwise he was extremely sensible. Miss Virginia E. Otis was a little
+girl of fifteen, lithe and lovely as a fawn, and with a fine freedom in
+her large blue eyes. She was a wonderful Amazon, and had once raced old
+Lord Bilton on her pony twice round the park, winning by a length and a
+half, just in front of the Achilles statue, to the huge delight of the
+young Duke of Cheshire, who proposed for her on the spot, and was sent
+back to Eton that very night by his guardians, in floods of tears.
+After Virginia came the twins, who were usually called "The Stars and
+Stripes," as they were always getting swished. They were delightful
+boys, and, with the exception of the worthy Minister, the only true
+republicans of the family.
+
+As Canterville Chase is seven miles from Ascot, the nearest railway
+station, Mr. Otis had telegraphed for a wagonette to meet them, and they
+started on their drive in high spirits. It was a lovely July evening,
+and the air was delicate with the scent of the pinewoods. Now and then
+they heard a wood-pigeon brooding over its own sweet voice, or saw, deep
+in the rustling fern, the burnished breast of the pheasant. Little
+squirrels peered at them from the beech-trees as they went by, and the
+rabbits scudded away through the brushwood and over the mossy knolls,
+with their white tails in the air. As they entered the avenue of
+Canterville Chase, however, the sky became suddenly overcast with
+clouds, a curious stillness seemed to hold the atmosphere, a great
+flight of rooks passed silently over their heads, and, before they
+reached the house, some big drops of rain had fallen.
+
+Standing on the steps to receive them was an old woman, neatly dressed
+in black silk, with a white cap and apron. This was Mrs. Umney, the
+housekeeper, whom Mrs. Otis, at Lady Canterville's earnest request, had
+consented to keep in her former position. She made them each a low
+curtsy as they alighted, and said in a quaint, old-fashioned manner, "I
+bid you welcome to Canterville Chase." Following her, they passed
+through the fine Tudor hall into the library, a long, low room, paneled
+in black oak, at the end of which was a large stained glass window. Here
+they found tea laid out for them, and, after taking off their wraps,
+they sat down and began to look round, while Mrs. Umney waited on them.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Otis caught sight of a dull red stain on the floor just by
+the fireplace, and, quite unconscious of what it really signified, said
+to Mrs. Umney, "I am afraid something has been spilled there."
+
+"Yes, madam," replied the old housekeeper in a low voice, "blood has
+been spilled on that spot."
+
+"How horrid!" cried Mrs. Otis; "I don't at all care for blood-stains in
+a sitting-room. It must be removed at once."
+
+The old woman smiled, and answered in the same low, mysterious voice,
+"It is the blood of Lady Eleanore de Canterville, who was murdered on
+that very spot by her own husband, Sir Simon de Canterville, in 1575.
+Sir Simon survived her nine years, and disappeared suddenly under very
+mysterious circumstances. His body has never been discovered, but his
+guilty spirit still haunts the Chase. The blood-stain has been much
+admired by tourists and others, and cannot be removed."
+
+"That is all nonsense," cried Washington Otis; "Pinkerton's Champion
+Stain Remover and Paragon Detergent will clean it up in no time," and
+before the terrified housekeeper could interfere, he had fallen upon his
+knees, and was rapidly scouring the floor with a small stick of what
+looked like a black cosmetic. In a few moments no trace of the
+blood-stain could be seen.
+
+"I knew Pinkerton would do it," he exclaimed, triumphantly, as he looked
+round at his admiring family; but no sooner had he said these words than
+a terrible flash of lightning lit up the somber room, a fearful peal of
+thunder made them all start to their feet, and Mrs. Umney fainted.
+
+"What a monstrous climate!" said the American Minister, calmly, as he
+lit a long cheroot. "I guess the old country is so overpopulated that
+they have not enough decent weather for everybody. I have always been of
+opinion that emigration is the only thing for England."
+
+"My dear Hiram," cried Mrs. Otis, "what can we do with a woman who
+faints?"
+
+"Charge it to her like breakages," answered the Minister; "she won't
+faint after that"; and in a few moments Mrs. Umney certainly came to.
+There was no doubt, however, that she was extremely upset, and she
+sternly warned Mr. Otis to beware of some trouble coming to the house.
+
+"I have seen things with my own eyes, sir," she said, "that would make
+any Christian's hair stand on end, and many and many a night I have not
+closed my eyes in sleep for the awful things that are done here." Mr.
+Otis, however, and his wife warmly assured the honest soul that they
+were not afraid of ghosts, and, after invoking the blessings of
+Providence on her new master and mistress, and making arrangements for
+an increase of salary, the old housekeeper tottered off to her own room.
+
+
+II
+
+The storm raged fiercely all that night, but nothing of particular note
+occurred. The next morning, however, when they came down to breakfast,
+they found the terrible stain of blood once again on the floor. "I don't
+think it can be the fault of the Paragon Detergent," said Washington,
+"for I have tried it with everything. It must be the ghost." He
+accordingly rubbed out the stain a second time, but the second morning
+it appeared again. The third morning also it was there, though the
+library had been locked up at night by Mr. Otis himself, and the key
+carried upstairs. The whole family were now quite interested; Mr. Otis
+began to suspect that he had been too dogmatic in his denial of the
+existence of ghosts, Mrs. Otis expressed her intention of joining the
+Psychical Society, and Washington prepared a long letter to Messrs.
+Myers and Podmore on the subject of the Permanence of Sanguineous Stains
+when connected with Crime. That night all doubts about the objective
+existence of phantasmata were removed forever.
+
+The day had been warm and sunny; and, in the cool of the evening, the
+whole family went out to drive. They did not return home till nine
+o'clock, when they had a light supper. The conversation in no way turned
+upon ghosts, so there were not even those primary conditions of
+receptive expectations which so often precede the presentation of
+psychical phenomena. The subjects discussed, as I have since learned
+from Mr. Otis, were merely such as form the ordinary conversation of
+cultured Americans of the better class, such as the immense superiority
+of Miss Fanny Devonport over Sarah Bernhardt as an actress; the
+difficulty of obtaining green corn, buckwheat cakes, and hominy, even in
+the best English houses; the importance of Boston in the development of
+the world-soul; the advantages of the baggage-check system in railway
+traveling; and the sweetness of the New York accent as compared to the
+London drawl. No mention at all was made of the supernatural, nor was
+Sir Simon de Canterville alluded to in any way. At eleven o'clock the
+family retired, and by half-past all the lights were out. Some time
+after, Mr. Otis was awakened by a curious noise in the corridor, outside
+his room. It sounded like the clank of metal, and seemed to be coming
+nearer every moment. He got up at once, struck a match, and looked at
+the time. It was exactly one o'clock. He was quite calm, and felt his
+pulse, which was not at all feverish. The strange noise still continued,
+and with it he heard distinctly the sound of footsteps. He put on his
+slippers, took a small oblong phial out of his dressing-case, and opened
+the door. Right in front of him he saw, in the wan moonlight, an old man
+of terrible aspect. His eyes were as red burning coals; long gray hair
+fell over his shoulders in matted coils; his garments, which were of
+antique cut, were soiled and ragged, and from his wrists and ankles hung
+heavy manacles and rusty gyves.
+
+"My dear sir," said Mr. Otis, "I really must insist on your oiling those
+chains, and have brought you for that purpose a small bottle of the
+Tammany Rising Sun Lubricator. It is said to be completely efficacious
+upon one application, and there are several testimonials to that effect
+on the wrapper from some of our most eminent native divines. I shall
+leave it here for you by the bedroom candles, and will be happy to
+supply you with more, should you require it." With these words the
+United States Minister laid the bottle down on a marble table, and,
+closing his door, retired to rest.
+
+For a moment the Canterville ghost stood quite motionless in natural
+indignation; then, dashing the bottle violently upon the polished floor,
+he fled down the corridor, uttering hollow groans, and emitting a
+ghastly green light. Just, however, as he reached the top of the great
+oak staircase, a door was flung open, two little white-robed figures
+appeared, and a large pillow whizzed past his head! There was evidently
+no time to be lost, so, hastily adopting the Fourth dimension of Space
+as a means of escape, he vanished through the wainscoting, and the
+house became quite quiet.
+
+On reaching a small secret chamber in the left wing, he leaned up
+against a moonbeam to recover his breath, and began to try and realize
+his position. Never, in a brilliant and uninterrupted career of three
+hundred years, had he been so grossly insulted. He thought of the
+Dowager Duchess, whom he had frightened into a fit as she stood before
+the glass in her lace and diamonds; of the four housemaids, who had gone
+into hysterics when he merely grinned at them through the curtains on
+one of the spare bedrooms; of the rector of the parish, whose candle he
+had blown out as he was coming late one night from the library, and who
+had been under the care of Sir William Gull ever since, a perfect martyr
+to nervous disorders; and of old Madame de Tremouillac, who, having
+wakened up one morning early and seen a skeleton seated in an arm-chair
+by the fire reading her diary, had been confined to her bed for six
+weeks with an attack of brain fever, and, on her recovery, had become
+reconciled to the Church, and broken off her connection with that
+notorious skeptic, Monsieur de Voltaire. He remembered the terrible
+night when the wicked Lord Canterville was found choking in his
+dressing-room, with the knave of diamonds halfway down his throat, and
+confessed, just before he died, that he had cheated Charles James Fox
+out of L50,000 at Crockford's by means of that very card, and swore that
+the ghost had made him swallow it. All his great achievements came back
+to him again, from the butler who had shot himself in the pantry because
+he had seen a green hand tapping at the windowpane, to the beautiful
+Lady Stutfield, who was always obliged to wear a black velvet band round
+her throat to hide the mark of five fingers burnt upon her white skin,
+and who drowned herself at last in the carp-pond at the end of the
+King's Walk. With the enthusiastic egotism of the true artist, he went
+over his most celebrated performances, and smiled bitterly to himself as
+he recalled to mind his last appearance as "Red Reuben, or the Strangled
+Babe," his _debut_ as "Gaunt Gibeon, the Blood-sucker of Bexley Moor,"
+and the _furore_ he had excited one lovely June evening by merely
+playing ninepins with his own bones upon the lawn-tennis ground. And
+after all this some wretched modern Americans were to come and offer him
+the Rising Sun Lubricator, and throw pillows at his head! It was quite
+unbearable. Besides, no ghost in history had ever been treated in this
+manner. Accordingly, he determined to have vengeance, and remained till
+daylight in an attitude of deep thought.
+
+
+III
+
+The next morning, when the Otis family met at breakfast, they discussed
+the ghost at some length. The United States Minister was naturally a
+little annoyed to find that his present had not been accepted. "I have
+no wish," he said, "to do the ghost any personal injury, and I must say
+that, considering the length of time he has been in the house, I don't
+think it is at all polite to throw pillows at him,"--a very just remark,
+at which, I am sorry to say, the twins burst into shouts of laughter.
+"Upon the other hand," he continued, "if he really declines to use the
+Rising Sun Lubricator, we shall have to take his chains from him. It
+would be quite impossible to sleep, with such a noise going on outside
+the bedrooms."
+
+For the rest of the week, however, they were undisturbed, the only thing
+that excited any attention being the continual renewal of the
+blood-stain on the library floor. This certainly was very strange, as
+the door was always locked at night by Mr. Otis, and the windows kept
+closely barred. The chameleon-like color, also, of the stain excited a
+good deal of comment. Some mornings it was a dull (almost Indian) red,
+then it would be vermilion, then a rich purple, and once when they came
+down for family prayers, according to the simple rites of the Free
+American Reformed Episcopalian Church, they found it a bright
+emerald-green. These kaleidoscopic changes naturally amused the party
+very much, and bets on the subject were freely made every evening. The
+only person who did not enter into the joke was little Virginia, who,
+for some unexplained reason, was always a good deal distressed at the
+sight of the blood-stain, and very nearly cried the morning it was
+emerald-green.
+
+The second appearance of the ghost was on Sunday night. Shortly after
+they had gone to bed they were suddenly alarmed by a fearful crash in
+the hall. Rushing downstairs, they found that a large suit of old armor
+had become detached from its stand, and had fallen on the stone floor,
+while seated in a high-backed chair was the Canterville ghost, rubbing
+his knees with an expression of acute agony on his face. The twins,
+having brought their pea-shooters with them, at once discharged two
+pellets on him, with that accuracy of aim which can only be attained by
+long and careful practice on a writing-master, while the United States
+Minister covered him with his revolver, and called upon him, in
+accordance with Californian etiquette, to hold up his hands! The ghost
+started up with a wild shriek of rage, and swept through them like a
+mist, extinguishing Washington Otis's candle as he passed, and so
+leaving them all in total darkness. On reaching the top of the staircase
+he recovered himself, and determined to give his celebrated peal of
+demoniac laughter. This he had on more than one occasion found extremely
+useful. It was said to have turned Lord Raker's wig gray in a single
+night, and had certainly made three of Lady Canterville's French
+governesses give warning before their month was up. He accordingly
+laughed his most horrible laugh, till the old vaulted roof rang and rang
+again, but hardly had the fearful echo died away when a door opened,
+and Mrs. Otis came out in a light blue dressing-gown. "I am afraid you
+are far from well," she said, "and have brought you a bottle of Doctor
+Dobell's tincture. If it is indigestion, you will find it a most
+excellent remedy." The ghost glared at her in fury, and began at once to
+make preparations for turning himself into a large black dog, an
+accomplishment for which he was justly renowned, and to which the family
+doctor always attributed the permanent idiocy of Lord Canterville's
+uncle, the Hon. Thomas Horton. The sound of approaching footsteps,
+however, made him hesitate in his fell purpose, so he contented himself
+with becoming faintly phosphorescent, and vanished with a deep
+churchyard groan, just as the twins had come up to him.
+
+On reaching his room he entirely broke down, and became a prey to the
+most violent agitation. The vulgarity of the twins, and the gross
+materialism of Mrs. Otis, were naturally extremely annoying, but what
+really distressed him most was that he had been unable to wear the suit
+of mail. He had hoped that even modern Americans would be thrilled by
+the sight of a Specter in armor, if for no more sensible reason, at
+least out of respect for their national poet Longfellow, over whose
+graceful and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away many a weary
+hour when the Cantervilles were up in town. Besides it was his own suit.
+He had worn it with great success at the Kenilworth tournament, and had
+been highly complimented on it by no less a person than the Virgin Queen
+herself. Yet when he had put it on, he had been completely overpowered
+by the weight of the huge breastplate and steel casque, and had fallen
+heavily on the stone pavement, barking both his knees severely, and
+bruising the knuckles of his right hand.
+
+For some days after this he was extremely ill, and hardly stirred out of
+his room at all, except to keep the blood-stain in proper repair.
+However, by taking great care of himself, he recovered, and resolved to
+make a third attempt to frighten the United States Minister and his
+family. He selected Friday, August 17th, for his appearance, and spent
+most of that day in looking over his wardrobe, ultimately deciding in
+favor of a large slouched hat with a red feather, a winding-sheet
+frilled at the wrists and neck, and a rusty dagger. Towards evening a
+violent storm of rain came on, and the wind was so high that all the
+windows and doors in the old house shook and rattled. In fact, it was
+just such weather as he loved. His plan of action was this. He was to
+make his way quietly to Washington Otis's room, gibber at him from the
+foot of the bed, and stab himself three times in the throat to the sound
+of low music. He bore Washington a special grudge, being quite aware
+that it was he who was in the habit of removing the famous Canterville
+blood-stain by means of Pinkerton's Paragon Detergent. Having reduced
+the reckless and foolhardy youth to a condition of abject terror, he
+was then to proceed to the room occupied by the United States Minister
+and his wife, and there to place a clammy hand on Mrs. Otis's forehead,
+while he hissed into her trembling husband's ear the awful secrets of
+the charnel-house. With regard to little Virginia, he had not quite made
+up his mind. She had never insulted him in any way, and was pretty and
+gentle. A few hollow groans from the wardrobe, he thought, would be more
+than sufficient, or, if that failed to wake her, he might grabble at the
+counterpane with palsy-twitching fingers. As for the twins, he was quite
+determined to teach them a lesson. The first thing to be done was, of
+course, to sit upon their chests, so as to produce the stifling
+sensation of nightmare. Then, as their beds were quite close to each
+other, to stand between them in the form of a green, icy-cold corpse,
+till they became paralyzed with fear, and finally, to throw off the
+winding-sheet, and crawl round the room, with white, bleached bones and
+one rolling eyeball in the character of "Dumb Daniel, or the Suicide's
+Skeleton," a _role_ in which he had on more than one occasion produced a
+great effect, and which he considered quite equal to his famous part of
+"Martin the Maniac, or the Masked Mystery."
+
+At half-past ten he heard the family going to bed. For some time he was
+disturbed by wild shrieks of laughter from the twins, who, with the
+light-hearted gayety of schoolboys, were evidently amusing themselves
+before they retired to rest, but at a quarter-past eleven all was still,
+and, as midnight sounded, he sallied forth. The owl beat against the
+window-panes, the raven croaked from the old yew-tree, and the wind
+wandered moaning round the house like a lost soul; but the Otis family
+slept unconscious of their doom, and high above the rain and storm he
+could hear the steady snoring of the Minister for the United States. He
+stepped stealthily out of the wainscoting, with an evil smile on his
+cruel, wrinkled mouth, and the moon hid her face in a cloud as he stole
+past the great oriel window, where his own arms and those of his
+murdered wife were blazoned in azure and gold. On and on he glided, like
+an evil shadow, the very darkness seeming to loathe him as he passed.
+Once he thought he heard something call, and stopped; but it was only
+the baying of a dog from the Red Farm, and he went on, muttering strange
+sixteenth century curses, and ever and anon brandishing the rusty dagger
+in the midnight air. Finally he reached the corner of the passage that
+led to luckless Washington's room. For a moment he paused there, the
+wind blowing his long gray locks about his head, and twisting into
+grotesque and fantastic folds the nameless horror of the dead man's
+shroud. Then the clock struck the quarter, and he felt the time was
+come. He chuckled to himself, and turned the corner; but no sooner had
+he done so than, with a piteous wail of terror, he fell back, and hid
+his blanched face in his long, bony hands. Right in front of him was
+standing a horrible specter, motionless as a carven image, and monstrous
+as a madman's dream! Its head was bald and burnished; its face round,
+and fat, and white; and hideous laughter seemed to have writhed its
+features into an eternal grin. From the eyes streamed rays of scarlet
+light, the mouth was a wide well of fire, and a hideous garment, like to
+his own, swathed with its silent snows the Titan form. On its breast was
+a placard with strange writing in antique characters, some scroll of
+shame it seemed, some record of wild sins, some awful calendar of crime,
+and, with its right hand, it bore aloft a falchion of gleaming steel.
+
+Never having seen a ghost before, he naturally was terribly frightened,
+and, after a second hasty glance at the awful phantom, he fled back to
+his room, tripping up in his long winding-sheet as he sped down the
+corridor, and finally dropping the rusty dagger into the Minister's
+jack-boots, where it was found in the morning by the butler. Once in the
+privacy of his own apartment, he flung himself down on a small
+pallet-bed, and hid his face under the clothes. After a time, however,
+the brave old Canterville spirit asserted itself, and he determined to
+go and speak to the other ghost as soon as it was daylight. Accordingly,
+just as the dawn was touching the hills with silver, he returned towards
+the spot where he had first laid eyes on the grisly phantom, feeling
+that, after all, two ghosts were better than one, and that, by the aid
+of his new friend, he might safely grapple with the twins. On reaching
+the spot, however, a terrible sight met his gaze. Something had
+evidently happened to the specter, for the light had entirely faded from
+its hollow eyes, the gleaming falchion had fallen from its hand, and it
+was leaning up against the wall in a strained and uncomfortable
+attitude. He rushed forward and seized it in his arms, when, to his
+horror, the head slipped off and rolled on the floor, the body assumed a
+recumbent posture, and he found himself clasping a white dimity
+bed-curtain, with a sweeping-brush, a kitchen cleaver, and a hollow
+turnip lying at his feet! Unable to understand this curious
+transformation, he clutched the placard with feverish haste, and there,
+in the gray morning light, he read these fearful words:
+
+    YE OTIS GHOSTE
+    Ye Onlie True and Originale Spook,
+    Beware of Ye Imitationes.
+    All others are counterfeite.
+
+The whole thing flashed across him. He had been tricked, foiled, and
+outwitted! The old Canterville look came into his eyes; he ground his
+toothless gums together; and, raising his withered hands high above his
+head, swore according to the picturesque phraseology of the antique
+school, that, when Chanticleer had sounded twice his merry horn, deeds
+of blood would be wrought, and murder walk abroad with silent feet.
+
+Hardly had he finished this awful oath when, from the red-tiled roof of
+a distant homestead, a cock crew. He laughed a long, low, bitter laugh,
+and waited. Hour after hour he waited, but the cock, for some strange
+reason, did not crow again. Finally, at half-past seven, the arrival of
+the housemaids made him give up his fearful vigil, and he stalked back
+to his room, thinking of his vain oath and baffled purpose. There he
+consulted several books of ancient chivalry, of which he was exceedingly
+fond, and found that, on every occasion on which this oath had been
+used, Chanticleer had always crowed a second time. "Perdition seize the
+naughty fowl," he muttered, "I have seen the day when, with my stout
+spear, I would have run him through the gorge, and made him crow for me
+an 'twere in death!" He then retired to a comfortable lead coffin, and
+stayed there till evening.
+
+
+IV
+
+The next day the ghost was very weak and tired. The terrible excitement
+of the last four weeks was beginning to have its effect. His nerves were
+completely shattered, and he started at the slightest noise. For five
+days he kept his room, and at last made up his mind to give up the point
+of the blood-stain on the library floor. If the Otis family did not
+want it, they clearly did not deserve it. They were evidently people on
+a low, material plane of existence, and quite incapable of appreciating
+the symbolic value of sensuous phenomena. The question of phantasmic
+apparitions, and the development of astral bodies, was of course quite a
+different matter, and really not under his control. It was his solemn
+duty to appear in the corridor once a week, and to gibber from the large
+oriel window on the first and third Wednesdays in every month, and he
+did not see how he could honorably escape from his obligations. It is
+quite true that his life had been very evil, but, upon the other hand,
+he was most conscientious in all things connected with the supernatural.
+For the next three Saturdays, accordingly, he traversed the corridor as
+usual between midnight and three o'clock, taking every possible
+precaution against being either heard or seen. He removed his boots,
+trod as lightly as possible on the old worm-eaten boards, wore a large
+black velvet cloak, and was careful to use the Rising Sun Lubricator for
+oiling his chains. I am bound to acknowledge that it was with a good
+deal of difficulty that he brought himself to adopt this last mode of
+protection. However, one night, while the family were at dinner, he
+slipped into Mr. Otis's bedroom and carried off the bottle. He felt a
+little humiliated at first, but afterwards was sensible enough to see
+that there was a great deal to be said for the invention, and, to a
+certain degree, it served his purpose. Still, in spite of everything he
+was not left unmolested. Strings were continually being stretched across
+the corridor, over which he tripped in the dark, and on one occasion,
+while dressed for the part of "Black Isaac, or the Huntsman of Hogley
+Woods," he met with a severe fall, through treading on a butter-slide,
+which the twins had constructed from the entrance of the Tapestry
+Chamber to the top of the oak staircase. This last insult so enraged him
+that he resolved to make one final effort to assert his dignity and
+social position, and determined to visit the insolent young Etonians the
+next night in his celebrated character of "Reckless Rupert, or the
+Headless Earl."
+
+He had not appeared in this disguise for more than seventy years; in
+fact, not since he had so frightened pretty Lady Barbara Modish by means
+of it, that she suddenly broke off her engagement with the present Lord
+Canterville's grandfather, and ran away to Gretna Green with handsome
+Jack Castletown, declaring that nothing in the world would induce her to
+marry into a family that allowed such a horrible phantom to walk up and
+down the terrace at twilight. Poor Jack was afterwards shot in a duel by
+Lord Canterville on Wandsworth Common, and Lady Barbara died of a broken
+heart at Tunbridge Wells before the year was out, so, in every way, it
+had been a great success. It was, however, an extremely difficult
+"make-up," if I may use such a theatrical expression in connection with
+one of the greatest mysteries of the supernatural, or, to employ a more
+scientific term, the higher-natural world, and it took him fully three
+hours to make his preparations. At last everything was ready, and he was
+very pleased with his appearance. The big leather riding-boots that went
+with the dress were just a little too large for him, and he could only
+find one of the two horse-pistols, but, on the whole, he was quite
+satisfied, and at a quarter-past one he glided out of the wainscoting
+and crept down the corridor. On reaching the room occupied by the twins,
+which I should mention was called the Blue Bed Chamber on account of the
+color of its hangings, he found the door just ajar. Wishing to make an
+effective entrance, he flung it wide open, when a heavy jug of water
+fell right down on him, wetting him to the skin, and just missing his
+left shoulder by a couple of inches. At the same moment he heard stifled
+shrieks of laughter proceeding from the four-post bed. The shock to his
+nervous system was so great that he fled back to his room as hard as he
+could go, and the next day he was laid up with a severe cold. The only
+thing that at all consoled him in the whole affair was the fact that he
+had not brought his head with him, for, had he done so, the consequences
+might have been very serious.
+
+He now gave up all hope of ever frightening this rude American family,
+and contented himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in
+list slippers, with a thick red muffler round his throat for fear of
+draughts, and a small arquebus, in case he should be attacked by the
+twins. The final blow he received occurred on the 19th of September. He
+had gone downstairs to the great entrance-hall feeling sure that there,
+at any rate, he would be quite unmolested, and was amusing himself by
+making satirical remarks on the large Saroni photographs of the United
+States Minister and his wife, which had now taken the place of the
+Canterville family pictures. He was simply but neatly clad in a long
+shroud, spotted with churchyard mold, had tied up his jaw with a strip
+of yellow linen, and carried a small lantern and a sexton's spade. In
+fact, he was dressed for the character of "Jonas the Graveless, or the
+Corpse-Snatcher of Chertsey Barn," one of his most remarkable
+impersonations, and one which the Cantervilles had every reason to
+remember, as it was the real origin of their quarrel with their
+neighbor, Lord Rufford. It was about a quarter-past two o'clock in the
+morning, and, as far as he could ascertain, no one was stirring. As he
+was strolling towards the library, however, to see if there were any
+traces left of the blood-stain, suddenly there leaped out on him from a
+dark corner two figures, who waved their arms wildly above their heads,
+and shrieked out "BOO!" in his ear.
+
+Seized with a panic, which, under the circumstances, was only natural,
+he rushed for the staircase, but found Washington Otis waiting for him
+there with the big garden-syringe, and being thus hemmed in by his
+enemies on every side, and driven almost to bay, he vanished into the
+great iron stove, which, fortunately for him, was not lit, and had to
+make his way home through the flues and chimneys, arriving at his own
+room in a terrible state of dirt, disorder, and despair.
+
+After this he was not seen again on any nocturnal expedition. The twins
+lay in wait for him on several occasions, and strewed the passages with
+nutshells every night to the great annoyance of their parents and the
+servants, but it was of no avail. It was quite evident that his feelings
+were so wounded that he would not appear. Mr. Otis consequently resumed
+his great work on the history of the Democratic party, on which he had
+been engaged for some years; Mrs. Otis organized a wonderful clam-bake,
+which amazed the whole county; the boys took to lacrosse, euchre, poker,
+and other American national games, and Virginia rode about the lanes on
+her pony, accompanied by the young Duke of Cheshire, who had come to
+spend the last week of his holidays at Canterville Chase. It was
+generally assumed that the ghost had gone away, and, in fact, Mr. Otis
+wrote a letter to that effect to Lord Canterville, who, in reply,
+expressed his great pleasure at the news, and sent his best
+congratulations to the Minister's worthy wife.
+
+The Otises, however, were deceived, for the ghost was still in the
+house, and though now almost an invalid, was by no means ready to let
+matters rest, particularly as he heard that among the guests was the
+young Duke of Cheshire, whose grand-uncle, Lord Francis Stilton, had
+once bet a hundred guineas with Colonel Carbury that he would play dice
+with the Canterville ghost, and was found the next morning lying on the
+floor of the card-room in such a helpless paralytic state that, though
+he lived on to a great age, he was never able to say anything again but
+"Double Sixes." The story was well known at the time, though, of course,
+out of respect to the feelings of the two noble families, every attempt
+was made to hush it up, and a full account of all the circumstances
+connected with it will be found in the third volume of Lord Tattle's
+_Recollections of the Prince Regent and his Friends_. The ghost, then,
+was naturally very anxious to show that he had not lost his influence
+over the Stiltons, with whom, indeed, he was distantly connected, his
+own first cousin having been married _en secondes noces_ to the Sieur de
+Bulkeley, from whom, as everyone knows, the Dukes of Cheshire are
+lineally descended. Accordingly, he made arrangements for appearing to
+Virginia's little lover in his celebrated impersonation of "The Vampire
+Monk, or the Bloodless Benedictine," a performance so horrible that when
+old Lady Startup saw it, which she did on one fatal New Year's Eve, in
+the year 1764, she went off into the most piercing shrieks, which
+culminated in violent apoplexy, and died in three days, after
+disinheriting the Cantervilles, who were her nearest relations, and
+leaving all her money to her London apothecary. At the last moment,
+however, his terror of the twins prevented his leaving his room, and the
+little Duke slept in peace under the great feathered canopy in the Royal
+Bedchamber, and dreamed of Virginia.
+
+
+V
+
+A few days after this, Virginia and her curly-haired cavalier went out
+riding on Brockley meadows, where she tore her habit so badly in getting
+through a hedge that, on their return home, she made up her mind to go
+up by the back staircase so as not to be seen. As she was running past
+the Tapestry Chamber, the door of which happened to be open, she fancied
+she saw someone inside, and thinking it was her mother's maid, who
+sometimes used to bring her work there, looked in to ask her to mend her
+habit. To her immense surprise, however, it was the Canterville ghost
+himself! He was sitting by the window, watching the ruined gold of the
+yellowing trees fly through the air, and the red leaves dancing madly
+down the long avenue. His head was leaning on his hand, and his whole
+attitude was one of extreme depression. Indeed, so forlorn, and so much
+out of repair did he look, that little Virginia, whose first idea had
+been to run away and lock herself in her room, was filled with pity, and
+determined to try and comfort him. So light was her footfall, and so
+deep his melancholy, that he was not aware of her presence till she
+spoke to him.
+
+"I am so sorry for you," she said, "but my brothers are going back to
+Eton to-morrow, and then, if you behave yourself, no one will annoy
+you."
+
+"It is absurd asking me to behave myself," he answered, looking round in
+astonishment at the pretty little girl who had ventured to address him,
+"quite absurd. I must rattle my chains, and groan through keyholes, and
+walk about at night, if that is what you mean. It is my only reason for
+existing."
+
+"It is no reason at all for existing, and you know you have been very
+wicked. Mrs. Umney told us, the first day we arrived here, that you had
+killed your wife."
+
+"Well, I quite admit it," said the ghost, petulantly, "but it was a
+purely family matter and concerned no one else."
+
+"It is very wrong to kill anyone," said Virginia, who at times had a
+sweet puritan gravity, caught from some old New England ancestor.
+
+"Oh, I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics! My wife was very
+plain, never had my ruffs properly starched, and knew nothing about
+cookery. Why, there was a buck I had shot in Hogley Woods, a magnificent
+pricket, and do you know how she had it sent to table? However, it is no
+matter now, for it is all over, and I don't think it was very nice of
+her brothers to starve me to death, though I did kill her."
+
+"Starve you to death? Oh, Mr. Ghost--I mean Sir Simon, are you hungry?
+I have a sandwich in my case. Would you like it?"
+
+"No, thank you, I never eat anything now; but it is very kind of you,
+all the same, and you are much nicer than the rest of your horrid, rude,
+vulgar, dishonest family."
+
+"Stop!" cried Virginia, stamping her foot, "it is you who are rude, and
+horrid, and vulgar, and as for dishonesty, you know you stole the paints
+out of my box to try and furbish up that ridiculous blood-stain in the
+library. First you took all my reds, including the vermilion, and I
+couldn't do any more sunsets, then you took the emerald-green and the
+chrome-yellow, and finally I had nothing left but indigo and Chinese
+white, and could only do moonlight scenes, which are always depressing
+to look at, and not at all easy to paint. I never told on you, though I
+was very much annoyed, and it was most ridiculous, the whole thing; for
+who ever heard of emerald-green blood?"
+
+"Well, really," said the Ghost, rather meekly, "what was I to do? It is
+a very difficult thing to get real blood nowadays, and, as your brother
+began it all with his Paragon Detergent, I certainly saw no reason why I
+should not have your paints. As for color, that is always a matter of
+taste: the Cantervilles have blue blood, for instance, the very bluest
+in England; but I know you Americans don't care for things of this
+kind."
+
+"You know nothing about it, and the best thing you can do is to emigrate
+and improve your mind. My father will be only too happy to give you a
+free passage, and though there is a heavy duty on spirits of every kind,
+there will be no difficulty about the Custom House, as the officers are
+all Democrats. Once in New York, you are sure to be a great success. I
+know lots of people there who would give a hundred thousand dollars to
+have a grandfather, and much more than that to have a family ghost."
+
+"I don't think I should like America."
+
+"I suppose because we have no ruins and no curiosities," said Virginia,
+satirically.
+
+"No ruins! no curiosities!" answered the Ghost; "you have your navy and
+your manners."
+
+"Good evening; I will go and ask papa to get the twins an extra week's
+holiday."
+
+"Please don't go, Miss Virginia," he cried; "I am so lonely and so
+unhappy, and I really don't know what to do. I want to go to sleep and I
+cannot."
+
+"That's quite absurd! You have merely to go to bed and blow out the
+candle. It is very difficult sometimes to keep awake, especially at
+church, but there is no difficulty at all about sleeping. Why, even
+babies know how to do that, and they are not very clever."
+
+"I have not slept for three hundred years," he said sadly, and
+Virginia's beautiful blue eyes opened in wonder; "for three hundred
+years I have not slept, and I am so tired."
+
+Virginia grew quite grave, and her little lips trembled like
+rose-leaves. She came towards him, and kneeling down at his side,
+looked up into his old withered face.
+
+"Poor, poor ghost," she murmured; "have you no place where you can
+sleep?"
+
+"Far away beyond the pinewoods," he answered, in a low, dreamy voice,
+"there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there
+are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale
+sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold crystal moon
+looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the
+sleepers."
+
+Virginia's eyes grew dim with tears, and she hid her face in her hands.
+
+"You mean the Garden of Death," she whispered.
+
+"Yes, death. Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth,
+with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have
+no yesterday, and no to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at
+peace. You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death's
+house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is."
+
+Virginia trembled, a cold shudder ran through her, and for a few moments
+there was silence. She felt as if she was in a terrible dream.
+
+Then the ghost spoke again, and his voice sounded like the sighing of
+the wind.
+
+"Have you ever read the old prophecy on the library window?"
+
+"Oh, often," cried the little girl, looking up; "I know it quite well.
+It is painted in curious black letters, and is difficult to read. There
+are only six lines:
+
+    "'When a golden girl can win
+    Prayer from out the lips of sin,
+    When the barren almond bears,
+    And a little child gives away its tears,
+    Then shall all the house be still
+    And peace come to Canterville.'
+
+"But I don't know what they mean."
+
+"They mean," he said, sadly, "that you must weep with me for my sins,
+because I have no tears, and pray with me for my soul, because I have no
+faith, and then, if you have always been sweet, and good, and gentle,
+the angel of death will have mercy on me. You will see fearful shapes in
+darkness, and wicked voices will whisper in your ear, but they will not
+harm you, for against the purity of a little child the powers of Hell
+cannot prevail."
+
+Virginia made no answer, and the ghost wrung his hands in wild despair
+as he looked down at her bowed golden head. Suddenly she stood up, very
+pale, and with a strange light in her eyes. "I am not afraid," she said
+firmly, "and I will ask the angel to have mercy on you."
+
+He rose from his seat with a faint cry of joy, and taking her hand bent
+over it with old-fashioned grace and kissed it. His fingers were as cold
+as ice, and his lips burned like fire, but Virginia did not falter, as
+he led her across the dusky room. On the faded green tapestry were
+broidered little huntsmen. They blew their tasseled horns and with their
+tiny hands waved to her to go back. "Go back! little Virginia," they
+cried, "go back!" but the ghost clutched her hand more tightly, and she
+shut her eyes against them. Horrible animals with lizard tails and
+goggle eyes blinked at her from the carven chimney-piece, and murmured,
+"Beware! little Virginia, beware! we may never see you again," but the
+ghost glided on more swiftly, and Virginia did not listen. When they
+reached the end of the room he stopped, and muttered some words she
+could not understand. She opened her eyes, and saw the wall slowly
+fading away like a mist, and a great black cavern in front of her. A
+bitter cold wind swept round them, and she felt something pulling at her
+dress. "Quick, quick," cried the ghost, "or it will be too late," and in
+a moment the wainscoting had closed behind them, and the Tapestry
+Chamber was empty.
+
+
+VI
+
+About ten minutes later, the bell rang for tea, and, as Virginia did not
+come down, Mrs. Otis sent up one of the footmen to tell her. After a
+little time he returned and said that he could not find Miss Virginia
+anywhere. As she was in the habit of going out to the garden every
+evening to get flowers for the dinner-table, Mrs. Otis was not at all
+alarmed at first, but when six o'clock struck, and Virginia did not
+appear, she became really agitated, and sent the boys out to look for
+her, while she herself and Mr. Otis searched every room in the house. At
+half-past six the boys came back and said that they could find no trace
+of their sister anywhere. They were all now in the greatest state of
+excitement, and did not know what to do, when Mr. Otis suddenly
+remembered that, some few days before, he had given a band of gipsies
+permission to camp in the park. He accordingly at once set off for
+Blackfell Hollow, where he knew they were, accompanied by his eldest son
+and two of the farm-servants. The little Duke of Cheshire, who was
+perfectly frantic with anxiety, begged hard to be allowed to go too, but
+Mr. Otis would not allow him, as he was afraid there might be a scuffle.
+On arriving at the spot, however, he found that the gipsies had gone,
+and it was evident that their departure had been rather sudden, as the
+fire was still burning, and some plates were lying on the grass. Having
+sent off Washington and the two men to scour the district, he ran home,
+and dispatched telegrams to all the police inspectors in the county,
+telling them to look out for a little girl who had been kidnapped by
+tramps or gipsies. He then ordered his horse to be brought round, and
+after insisting on his wife and the three boys sitting down to dinner,
+rode off down the Ascot road with a groom. He had hardly, however, gone
+a couple of miles, when he heard somebody galloping after him, and,
+looking round, saw the little Duke coming up on his pony, with his face
+very flushed, and no hat. "I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Otis," gasped out the
+boy, "but I can't eat any dinner as long as Virginia is lost. Please
+don't be angry with me; if you had let us be engaged last year, there
+would never have been all this trouble. You won't send me back, will
+you? I can't go! I won't go!"
+
+The Minister could not help smiling at the handsome young scapegrace,
+and was a good deal touched at his devotion to Virginia, so leaning down
+from his horse, he patted him kindly on the shoulders, and said, "Well,
+Cecil, if you won't go back, I suppose you must come with me, but I must
+get you a hat at Ascot."
+
+"Oh, bother my hat! I want Virginia!" cried the little Duke, laughing,
+and they galloped on to the railway station. There Mr. Otis inquired of
+the station-master if anyone answering to the description of Virginia
+had been seen on the platform, but could get no news of her. The
+station-master, however, wired up and down the line, and assured him
+that a strict watch would be kept for her, and, after having bought a
+hat for the little Duke from a linen-draper, who was just putting up his
+shutters, Mr. Otis rode off to Bexley, a village about four miles away,
+which he was told was a well-known haunt of the gipsies, as there was a
+large common next to it. Here they roused up the rural policeman, but
+could get no information from him, and, after riding all over the
+common, they turned their horses' heads homewards, and reached the Chase
+about eleven o'clock, dead-tired and almost heart-broken. They found
+Washington and the twins waiting for them at the gate-house with
+lanterns, as the avenue was very dark. Not the slightest trace of
+Virginia had been discovered. The gipsies had been caught on Brockley
+meadows, but she was not with them, and they had explained their sudden
+departure by saying that they had mistaken the date of Chorton Fair, and
+had gone off in a hurry for fear they should be late. Indeed, they had
+been quite distressed at hearing of Virginia's disappearance, as they
+were very grateful to Mr. Otis for having allowed them to camp in his
+park, and four of their number had stayed behind to help in the search.
+The carp-pond had been dragged, and the whole Chase thoroughly gone
+over, but without any result. It was evident that, for that night at any
+rate, Virginia was lost to them; and it was in a state of the deepest
+depression that Mr. Otis and the boys walked up to the house, the groom
+following behind with the two horses and the pony. In the hall they
+found a group of frightened servants, and lying on a sofa in the library
+was poor Mrs. Otis, almost out of her mind with terror and anxiety, and
+having her forehead bathed with eau de cologne by the old housekeeper.
+Mr. Otis at once insisted on her having something to eat, and ordered up
+supper for the whole party. It was a melancholy meal, as hardly anyone
+spoke, and even the twins were awestruck and subdued, as they were very
+fond of their sister. When they had finished, Mr. Otis, in spite of the
+entreaties of the little Duke, ordered them all to bed, saying that
+nothing more could be done that night, and that he would telegraph in
+the morning to Scotland Yard for some detectives to be sent down
+immediately. Just as they were passing out of the dining-room, midnight
+began to boom from the clock tower, and when the last stroke sounded
+they heard a crash and a sudden shrill cry; a dreadful peal of thunder
+shook the house, a strain of unearthly music floated through the air, a
+panel at the top of the staircase flew back with a loud noise, and out
+on the landing, looking very pale and white, with a little casket in her
+hand, stepped Virginia. In a moment they had all rushed up to her. Mrs.
+Otis clasped her passionately in her arms, the Duke smothered her with
+violent kisses, and the twins executed a wild war-dance round the group.
+
+"Good heavens! child, where have you been?" said Mr. Otis, rather
+angrily, thinking that she had been playing some foolish trick on them.
+"Cecil and I have been riding all over the country looking for you, and
+your mother has been frightened to death. You must never play these
+practical jokes any more."
+
+"Except on the ghost! except on the ghost!" shrieked the twins, as they
+capered about.
+
+"My own darling, thank God you are found; you must never leave my side
+again," murmured Mrs. Otis, as she kissed the trembling child, and
+smoothed the tangled gold of her hair.
+
+"Papa," said Virginia, quietly, "I have been with the ghost. He is dead,
+and you must come and see him. He had been very wicked, but he was
+really sorry for all that he had done, and he gave me this box of
+beautiful jewels before he died."
+
+The whole family gazed at her in mute amazement, but she was quite grave
+and serious; and, turning round, she led them through the opening in the
+wainscoting down a narrow secret corridor, Washington following with a
+lighted candle, which he had caught up from the table. Finally, they
+came to a great oak door, studded with rusty nails. When Virginia
+touched it, it swung back on its heavy hinges, and they found themselves
+in a little low room, with a vaulted ceiling, and one tiny grated
+window. Embedded in the wall was a huge iron ring, and chained to it was
+a gaunt skeleton, that was stretched out at full length on the stone
+floor, and seemed to be trying to grasp with its long fleshless fingers
+an old-fashioned trencher and ewer, that were placed just out of its
+reach. The jug had evidently been once filled with water, as it was
+covered inside with green mold. There was nothing on the trencher but a
+pile of dust. Virginia knelt down beside the skeleton, and, folding her
+little hands together, began to pray silently, while the rest of the
+party looked on in wonder at the terrible tragedy whose secret was now
+disclosed to them.
+
+"Hallo!" suddenly exclaimed one of the twins, who had been looking out
+of the window to try and discover in what wing of the house the room was
+situated. "Hallo! the old withered almond-tree has blossomed. I can see
+the flowers quite plainly in the moonlight."
+
+"God has forgiven him," said Virginia, gravely, as she rose to her feet,
+and a beautiful light seemed to illumine her face.
+
+"What an angel you are!" cried the young Duke, and he put his arm round
+her neck, and kissed her.
+
+
+VII
+
+Four days after these curious incidents, a funeral started from
+Canterville Chase at about eleven o'clock at night. The hearse was drawn
+by eight black horses, each of which carried on its head a great tuft of
+nodding ostrich-plumes, and the leaden coffin was covered by a rich
+purple pall, on which was embroidered in gold the Canterville
+coat-of-arms. By the side of the hearse and the coaches walked the
+servants with lighted torches, and the whole procession was wonderfully
+impressive. Lord Canterville was the chief mourner, having come up
+specially from Wales to attend the funeral, and sat in the first
+carriage along with little Virginia. Then came the United States
+Minister and his wife, then Washington and the three boys, and in the
+last carriage was Mrs. Umney. It was generally felt that, as she had
+been frightened by the ghost for more than fifty years of her life, she
+had a right to see the last of him. A deep grave had been dug in the
+corner of the churchyard, just under the old yew-tree, and the service
+was read in the most impressive manner by the Rev. Augustus Dampier.
+When the ceremony was over, the servants, according to an old custom
+observed in the Canterville family, extinguished their torches, and, as
+the coffin was being lowered into the grave, Virginia stepped forward,
+and laid on it a large cross made of white and pink almond-blossoms. As
+she did so, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and flooded with its
+silent silver the little churchyard, and from a distant copse a
+nightingale began to sing. She thought of the ghost's description of the
+Garden of Death, her eyes became dim with tears, and she hardly spoke a
+word during the drive home.
+
+The next morning, before Lord Canterville went up to town, Mr. Otis had
+an interview with him on the subject of the jewels the ghost had given
+to Virginia. They were perfectly magnificent, especially a certain ruby
+necklace with old Venetian setting, which was really a superb specimen
+of sixteenth-century work, and their value was so great that Mr. Otis
+felt considerable scruples about allowing his daughter to accept them.
+
+"My lord," he said, "I know that in this country mortmain is held to
+apply to trinkets as well as to land, and it is quite clear to me that
+these jewels are, or should be, heirlooms in your family. I must beg
+you, accordingly, to take them to London with you, and to regard them
+simply as a portion of your property which has been restored to you
+under certain strange conditions. As for my daughter, she is merely a
+child, and has as yet, I am glad to say, but little interest in such
+appurtenances of idle luxury. I am also informed by Mrs. Otis, who, I
+may say, is no mean authority upon Art,--having had the privilege of
+spending several winters in Boston when she was a girl,--that these gems
+are of great monetary worth, and if offered for sale would fetch a tall
+price. Under these circumstances, Lord Canterville, I feel sure that you
+will recognize how impossible it would be for me to allow them to remain
+in the possession of any member of my family; and, indeed, all such vain
+gauds and toys, however suitable or necessary to the dignity of the
+British aristocracy, would be completely out of place among those who
+have been brought up on the severe, and I believe immortal, principles
+of Republican simplicity. Perhaps I should mention that Virginia is very
+anxious that you should allow her to retain the box, as a memento of
+your unfortunate but misguided ancestor. As it is extremely old, and
+consequently a good deal out of repair, you may perhaps think fit to
+comply with her request. For my own part, I confess I am a good deal
+surprised to find a child of mine expressing sympathy with medievalism
+in any form, and can only account for it by the fact that Virginia was
+born in one of your London suburbs shortly after Mrs. Otis had returned
+from a trip to Athens."
+
+Lord Canterville listened very gravely to the worthy Minister's speech,
+pulling his gray moustache now and then to hide an involuntary smile,
+and when Mr. Otis had ended, he shook him cordially by the hand, and
+said: "My dear sir, your charming little daughter rendered my unlucky
+ancestor, Sir Simon, a very important service, and I and my family are
+much indebted to her for her marvelous courage and pluck. The jewels are
+clearly hers, and, egad, I believe that if I were heartless enough to
+take them from her, the wicked old fellow would be out of his grave in a
+fortnight, leading me the devil of a life. As for their being heirlooms,
+nothing is an heirloom that is not so mentioned in a will or legal
+document, and the existence of these jewels has been quite unknown. I
+assure you I have no more claim on them than your butler, and when Miss
+Virginia grows up, I dare say she will be pleased to have pretty things
+to wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis, that you took the furniture and
+the ghost at a valuation, and anything that belonged to the ghost passed
+at once into your possession, as, whatever activity Sir Simon may have
+shown in the corridor at night, in point of law he was really dead, and
+you acquired his property by purchase."
+
+Mr. Otis was a good deal distressed at Lord Canterville's refusal, and
+begged him to reconsider his decision, but the good-natured peer was
+quite firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his daughter to
+retain the present the ghost had given her, and when, in the spring of
+1890, the young Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen's first
+drawing-room on the occasion of her marriage her jewels were the
+universal theme of admiration. For Virginia received the coronet, which
+is the reward of all good little American girls, and was married to her
+boy-lover as soon as he came of age. They were both so charming, and
+they loved each other so much, that everyone was delighted at the match,
+except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton, who had tried to catch the Duke
+for one of her seven unmarried daughters, and had given no less than
+three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose, and, strange to say,
+Mr. Otis himself. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young Duke
+personally, but, theoretically, he objected to titles, and, to use his
+own words, "was not without apprehension lest, amid the enervating
+influences of a pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles of
+Republican simplicity should be forgotten." His objections, however,
+were completely over-ruled, and I believe that when he walked up the
+aisle of St. George's, Hanover Square, with his daughter leaning on his
+arm, there was not a prouder man in the whole length and breadth of
+England.
+
+The Duke and Duchess, after the honeymoon was over, went down to
+Canterville Chase, and on the day after their arrival they walked over
+in the afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pinewoods. There had
+been a great deal of difficulty at first about the inscription on Sir
+Simon's tombstone, but finally it had been decided to engrave on it
+simply the initials of the old gentleman's name, and the verse from the
+library window. The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses,
+which she strewed upon the grave, and after they had stood by it for
+some time they strolled into the ruined chancel of the old abbey. There
+the Duchess sat down on a fallen pillar, while her husband lay at her
+feet smoking a cigarette and looking up at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly
+he threw his cigarette away, took hold of her hand, and said to her,
+"Virginia, a wife should have no secrets from her husband."
+
+"Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you."
+
+"Yes, you have," he answered, smiling, "you have never told me what
+happened to you when you were locked up with the ghost."
+
+"I have never told anyone, Cecil," said Virginia, gravely.
+
+"I know that, but you might tell me."
+
+"Please don't ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I owe
+him a great deal. Yes, don't laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see
+what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than
+both."
+
+The Duke rose and kissed his wife lovingly.
+
+"You can have your secret as long as I have your heart," he murmured.
+
+"You have always had that, Cecil."
+
+"And you will tell our children some day, won't you?"
+
+Virginia blushed.
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST-EXTINGUISHER
+
+BY GELETT BURGESS
+
+From the _Cosmopolitan Magazine_, April, 1905. By permission of John
+Brisben Walker and Gelett Burgess.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost-Extinguisher
+
+BY GELETT BURGESS
+
+
+My attention was first called to the possibility of manufacturing a
+practicable ghost-extinguisher by a real-estate agent in San Francisco.
+
+"There's one thing," he said, "that affects city property here in a
+curious way. You know we have a good many murders, and, as a
+consequence, certain houses attain a very sensational and undesirable
+reputation. These houses it is almost impossible to let; you can
+scarcely get a decent family to occupy them rent-free. Then we have a
+great many places said to be haunted. These were dead timber on my hands
+until I happened to notice that the Japanese have no objections to
+spooks. Now, whenever I have such a building to rent, I let it to Japs
+at a nominal figure, and after they've taken the curse off, I raise the
+rent, the Japs move out, the place is renovated, and in the market
+again."
+
+The subject interested me, for I am not only a scientist, but a
+speculative philosopher as well. The investigation of those phenomena
+that lie upon the threshold of the great unknown has always been my
+favorite field of research. I believed, even then, that the Oriental
+mind, working along different lines than those which we pursue, has
+attained knowledge that we know little of. Thinking, therefore, that
+these Japs might have some secret inherited from their misty past, I
+examined into the matter.
+
+I shall not trouble you with a narration of the incidents which led up
+to my acquaintance with Hoku Yamanochi. Suffice it to say that I found
+in him a friend who was willing to share with me his whole lore of
+quasi-science. I call it this advisedly, for science, as we Occidentals
+use the term, has to do only with the laws of matter and sensation; our
+scientific men, in fact, recognize the existence of nothing else. The
+Buddhistic philosophy, however, goes further.
+
+According to its theories, the soul is sevenfold, consisting of
+different shells or envelopes--something like an onion--which are shed
+as life passes from the material to the spiritual state. The first, or
+lowest, of these is the corporeal body, which, after death, decays and
+perishes. Next comes the vital principle, which, departing from the
+body, dissipates itself like an odor, and is lost. Less gross than this
+is the astral body, which, although immaterial, yet lies near to the
+consistency of matter. This astral shape, released from the body at
+death, remains for a while in its earthly environment, still preserving
+more or less definitely the imprint of the form which it inhabited.
+
+It is this relic of a past material personality, this outworn shell,
+that appears, when galvanized into an appearance of life, partly
+materialized, as a ghost. It is not the soul that returns, for the soul,
+which is immortal, is composed of the four higher spiritual essences
+that surround the ego, and are carried on into the next life. These
+astral bodies, therefore, fail to terrify the Buddhists, who know them
+only as shadows, with no real volition. The Japs, in point of fact, have
+learned how to exterminate them.
+
+There is a certain powder, Hoku informed me, which, when burnt in their
+presence, transforms them from the rarefied, or semi-spiritual,
+condition to the state of matter. The ghost, so to speak, is
+precipitated into and becomes a material shape which can easily be
+disposed of. In this state it is confined and allowed to disintegrate
+slowly where it can cause no further annoyance.
+
+This long-winded explanation piqued my curiosity, which was not to be
+satisfied until I had seen the Japanese method applied. It was not long
+before I had an opportunity. A particularly revolting murder having been
+committed in San Francisco, my friend Hoku Yamanochi applied for the
+house, and, after the police had finished their examination, he was
+permitted to occupy it for a half-year at the ridiculous price of three
+dollars a month. He invited me to share his quarters, which were large
+and luxuriously furnished.
+
+For a week, nothing abnormal occurred. Then, one night, I was awakened
+by terrifying groans followed by a blood-curdling shriek which seemed
+to emerge from a large closet in my room, the scene of the late
+atrocity. I confess that I had all the covers pulled over my head and
+was shivering with horror when my Japanese friend entered, wearing a
+pair of flowered-silk pajamas. Hearing his voice, I peeped forth, to see
+him smiling reassuringly.
+
+"You some kind of very foolish fellow," he said. "I show you how to fix
+him!"
+
+He took from his pocket three conical red pastils, placed them upon a
+saucer and lighted them. Then, holding the fuming dish in one
+outstretched hand, he walked to the closed door and opened it. The
+shrieks burst out afresh, and, as I recalled the appalling details of
+the scene which had occurred in this very room only five weeks ago, I
+shuddered at his temerity. But he was quite calm.
+
+Soon, I saw the wraith-like form of the recent victim dart from the
+closet. She crawled under my bed and ran about the room, endeavoring to
+escape, but was pursued by Hoku, who waved his smoking plate with
+indefatigable patience and dexterity.
+
+At last he had her cornered, and the specter was caught behind a curtain
+of odorous fumes. Slowly the figure grew more distinct, assuming the
+consistency of a heavy vapor, shrinking somewhat in the operation. Hoku
+now hurriedly turned to me.
+
+"You hully up, bling me one pair bellows pletty quick!" he commanded.
+
+I ran into his room and brought the bellows from his fireplace. These
+he pressed flat, and then carefully inserting one toe of the ghost into
+the nozzle and opening the handles steadily, he sucked in a portion of
+the unfortunate woman's anatomy, and dexterously squirted the vapor into
+a large jar, which had been placed in the room for the purpose. Two more
+operations were necessary to withdraw the phantom completely from the
+corner and empty it into the jar. At last the transfer was effected and
+the receptacle securely stoppered and sealed.
+
+"In formeryore-time," Hoku explained to me, "old pliests sucked ghost
+with mouth and spit him to inside of vase with acculacy. Modern-time
+method more better for stomach and epiglottis."
+
+"How long will this ghost keep?" I inquired.
+
+"Oh, about four, five hundled years, maybe," was his reply. "Ghost now
+change from spilit to matter, and comes under legality of matter as
+usual science."
+
+"What are you going to do with her?" I asked.
+
+"Send him to Buddhist temple in Japan. Old pliest use him for high
+celemony," was the answer.
+
+My next desire was to obtain some of Hoku Yamanochi's ghost-powder and
+analyze it. For a while it defied my attempts, but, after many months of
+patient research, I discovered that it could be produced, in all its
+essential qualities, by means of a fusion of formaldehyde and
+hypophenyltrybrompropionic acid in an electrified vacuum. With this
+product I began a series of interesting experiments.
+
+As it became necessary for me to discover the habitat of ghosts in
+considerable numbers, I joined the American Society for Psychical
+Research, thus securing desirable information in regard to haunted
+houses. These I visited persistently, until my powder was perfected and
+had been proved efficacious for the capture of any ordinary house-broken
+phantom. For a while I contented myself with the mere sterilization of
+these specters, but, as I became surer of success, I began to attempt
+the transfer of ghosts to receptacles wherein they could be transported
+and studied at my leisure, classified and preserved for future
+reference.
+
+Hoku's bellows I soon discarded in favor of a large-sized bicycle-pump,
+and eventually I had constructed one of my own, of a pattern which
+enabled me to inhale an entire ghost at a single stroke. With this
+powerful instrument I was able to compress even an adult life-sized
+ghost into a two-quart bottle, in the neck of which a sensitive valve
+(patented) prevented the specter from emerging during process.
+
+My invention was not yet, however, quite satisfactory. While I had no
+trouble in securing ghosts of recent creation--spirits, that is, who
+were yet of almost the consistency of matter--on several of my trips
+abroad in search of material I found in old manor houses or ruined
+castles many specters so ancient that they had become highly rarefied
+and tenuous, being at times scarcely visible to the naked eye. Such
+elusive spirits are able to pass through walls and elude pursuit with
+ease. It became necessary for me to obtain some instrument by which
+their capture could be conveniently effected.
+
+The ordinary fire-extinguisher of commerce gave me the hint as to how
+the problem could be solved. One of these portable hand-instruments I
+filled with the proper chemicals. When inverted, the ingredients were
+commingled in vacuo and a vast volume of gas was liberated. This was
+collected in the reservoir provided with a rubber tube having a nozzle
+at the end. The whole apparatus being strapped upon my back, I was
+enabled to direct a stream of powerful precipitating gas in any desired
+direction, the flow being under control through the agency of a small
+stopcock. By means of this ghost-extinguisher I was enabled to pursue my
+experiments as far as I desired.
+
+So far my investigations had been purely scientific, but before long the
+commercial value of my discovery began to interest me. The ruinous
+effects of spectral visitations upon real estate induced me to realize
+some pecuniary reward from my ghost-extinguisher, and I began to
+advertise my business. By degrees, I became known as an expert in my
+original line, and my professional services were sought with as much
+confidence as those of a veterinary surgeon. I manufactured the Gerrish
+Ghost-Extinguisher in several sizes, and put it on the market, following
+this venture with the introduction of my justly celebrated Gerrish
+Ghost-Grenades. These hand-implements were made to be kept in racks
+conveniently distributed in country houses for cases of sudden
+emergency. A single grenade, hurled at any spectral form, would, in
+breaking, liberate enough formaldybrom to coagulate the most perverse
+spirit, and the resulting vapor could easily be removed from the room by
+a housemaid with a common broom.
+
+This branch of my business, however, never proved profitable, for the
+appearance of ghosts, especially in the United States, is seldom
+anticipated. Had it been possible for me to invent a preventive as well
+as a remedy, I might now be a millionaire; but there are limits even to
+modern science.
+
+Having exhausted the field at home, I visited England in the hope of
+securing customers among the country families there. To my surprise, I
+discovered that the possession of a family specter was considered as a
+permanent improvement to the property, and my offers of service in
+ridding houses of ghostly tenants awakened the liveliest resentment. As
+a layer of ghosts I was much lower in the social scale than a layer of
+carpets.
+
+Disappointed and discouraged, I returned home to make a further study of
+the opportunities of my invention. I had, it seemed, exhausted the
+possibilities of the use of unwelcome phantoms. Could I not, I thought,
+derive a revenue from the traffic in desirable specters? I decided to
+renew my investigations.
+
+The nebulous spirits preserved in my laboratory, which I had graded and
+classified, were, you will remember, in a state of suspended animation.
+They were, virtually, embalmed apparitions, their inevitable decay
+delayed, rather than prevented. The assorted ghosts that I had now
+preserved in hermetically sealed tins were thus in a state of unstable
+equilibrium. The tins once opened and the vapor allowed to dissipate,
+the original astral body would in time be reconstructed and the
+warmed-over specter would continue its previous career. But this
+process, when naturally performed, took years. The interval was quite
+too long for the phantom to be handled in any commercial way. My problem
+was, therefore, to produce from my tinned Essence of Ghost a specter
+that was capable of immediately going into business and that could haunt
+a house while you wait.
+
+It was not until radium was discovered that I approached the solution of
+my great problem, and even then months of indefatigable labor were
+necessary before the process was perfected. It has now been well
+demonstrated that the emanations of radiant energy sent forth by this
+surprising element defy our former scientific conceptions of the
+constitution of matter. It was for me to prove that the vibratory
+activity of radium (whose amplitudes and intensity are undoubtedly
+four-dimensional) effects a sort of allotropic modification in the
+particles of that imponderable ether which seems to lie halfway between
+matter and pure spirit. This is as far as I need to go in my
+explanation, for a full discussion involves the use of quaternions and
+the method of least squares. It will be sufficient for the layman to
+know that my preserved phantoms, rendered radio-active, would, upon
+contact with the air, resume their spectral shape.
+
+The possible extension of my business now was enormous, limited only by
+the difficulty in collecting the necessary stock. It was by this time
+almost as difficult to get ghosts as it was to get radium. Finding that
+a part of my stock had spoiled, I was now possessed of only a few dozen
+cans of apparitions, many of these being of inferior quality. I
+immediately set about replenishing my raw material. It was not enough
+for me to pick up a ghost here and there, as one might get old mahogany;
+I determined to procure my phantoms in wholesale lots.
+
+Accident favored my design. In an old volume of _Blackwood's Magazine_ I
+happened, one day, to come across an interesting article upon the battle
+of Waterloo. It mentioned, incidentally, a legend to the effect that
+every year, upon the anniversary of the celebrated victory, spectral
+squadrons had been seen by the peasants charging battalions of ghostly
+grenadiers. Here was my opportunity.
+
+I made elaborate preparations for the capture of this job lot of
+phantoms upon the next anniversary of the fight. Hard by the fatal ditch
+which engulfed Napoleon's cavalry I stationed a corps of able
+assistants provided with rapid-fire extinguishers ready to enfilade the
+famous sunken road. I stationed myself with a No. 4 model magazine-hose,
+with a four-inch nozzle, directly in the path which I knew would be
+taken by the advancing squadron.
+
+It was a fine, clear night, lighted, at first, by a slice of new moon;
+but later, dark, except for the pale illumination of the stars. I have
+seen many ghosts in my time--ghosts in garden and garret, at noon, at
+dusk, at dawn, phantoms fanciful, and specters sad and spectacular--but
+never have I seen such an impressive sight as this nocturnal charge of
+cuirassiers, galloping in goblin glory to their time-honored doom. From
+afar the French reserves presented the appearance of a nebulous mass,
+like a low-lying cloud or fog-bank, faintly luminous, shot with
+fluorescent gleams. As the squadron drew nearer in its desperate charge,
+the separate forms of the troopers shaped themselves, and the galloping
+guardsmen grew ghastly with supernatural splendor.
+
+Although I knew them to be immaterial and without mass or weight, I was
+terrified at their approach, fearing to be swept under the hoofs of the
+nightmares they rode. Like one in a dream, I started to run, but in
+another instant they were upon me, and I turned on my stream of
+formaldybrom. Then I was overwhelmed in a cloud-burst of wild warlike
+wraiths.
+
+The column swept past me, over the bank, plunging to its historic fate.
+The cut was piled full of frenzied, scrambling specters, as rank after
+rank swept down into the horrid gut. At last the ditch swarmed full of
+writhing forms and the carnage was dire.
+
+My assistants with the extinguishers stood firm, and although almost
+unnerved by the sight, they summoned their courage, and directed
+simultaneous streams of formaldybrom into the struggling mass of
+fantoms. As soon as my mind returned, I busied myself with the huge
+tanks I had prepared for use as receivers. These were fitted with a
+mechanism similar to that employed in portable forges, by which the
+heavy vapor was sucked off. Luckily the night was calm, and I was
+enabled to fill a dozen cylinders with the precipitated ghosts. The
+segregation of individual forms was, of course, impossible, so that men
+and horses were mingled in a horrible mixture of fricasseed spirits. I
+intended subsequently to empty the soup into a large reservoir and allow
+the separate specters to reform according to the laws of spiritual
+cohesion.
+
+Circumstances, however, prevented my ever accomplishing this result. I
+returned home, to find awaiting me an order so large and important that
+I had no time in which to operate upon my cylinders of cavalry.
+
+My patron was the proprietor of a new sanatorium for nervous invalids,
+located near some medicinal springs in the Catskills. His building was
+unfortunately located, having been built upon the site of a once-famous
+summer hotel, which, while filled with guests, had burnt to the ground,
+scores of lives having been lost. Just before the patients were to be
+installed in the new structure, it was found that the place was haunted
+by the victims of the conflagration to a degree that rendered it
+inconvenient as a health resort. My professional services were
+requested, therefore, to render the building a fitting abode for
+convalescents. I wrote to the proprietor, fixing my charge at five
+thousand dollars. As my usual rate was one hundred dollars per ghost,
+and over a hundred lives were lost at the fire, I considered this price
+reasonable, and my offer was accepted.
+
+The sanatorium job was finished in a week. I secured one hundred and two
+superior spectral specimens, and upon my return to the laboratory, put
+them up in heavily embossed tins with attractive labels in colors.
+
+My delight at the outcome of this business was, however, soon
+transformed to anger and indignation. The proprietor of the health
+resort, having found that the specters from his place had been sold,
+claimed a rebate upon the contract price equal to the value of the
+modified ghosts transferred to my possession. This, of course, I could
+not allow. I wrote, demanding immediate payment according to our
+agreement, and this was peremptorily refused. The manager's letter was
+insulting in the extreme. The Pied Piper of Hamelin was not worse
+treated than I felt myself to be; so, like the piper, I determined to
+have my revenge.
+
+I got out the twelve tanks of Waterloo ghost-hash from the storerooms,
+and treated them with radium for two days. These I shipped to the
+Catskills billed as hydrogen gas. Then, accompanied by two trustworthy
+assistants, I went to the sanatorium and preferred my demand for payment
+in person. I was ejected with contumely. Before my hasty exit, however,
+I had the satisfaction of noticing that the building was filled with
+patients. Languid ladies were seated in wicker chairs upon the piazzas,
+and frail anemic girls filled the corridors. It was a hospital of
+nervous wrecks whom the slightest disturbance would throw into a panic.
+I suppressed all my finer feelings of mercy and kindness and smiled
+grimly as I walked back to the village.
+
+That night was black and lowering, fitting weather for the pandemonium I
+was about to turn loose. At ten o'clock, I loaded a wagon with the tanks
+of compressed cohorts, and, muffled in heavy overcoats, we drove to the
+sanatorium. All was silent as we approached; all was dark. The wagon
+concealed in a grove of pines, we took out the tanks one by one, and
+placed them beneath the ground-floor windows. The sashes were easily
+forced open, and raised enough to enable us to insert the rubber tubes
+connected with the iron reservoirs. At midnight everything was ready.
+
+I gave the word, and my assistants ran from tank to tank, opening the
+stopcocks. With a hiss as of escaping steam the huge vessels emptied
+themselves, vomiting forth clouds of vapor, which, upon contact with the
+air, coagulated into strange shapes as the white of an egg does when
+dropped into boiling water. The rooms became instantly filled with
+dismembered shades of men and horses seeking wildly to unite themselves
+with their proper parts.
+
+Legs ran down the corridors, seeking their respective trunks, arms
+writhed wildly reaching for missing bodies, heads rolled hither and yon
+in search of native necks. Horses' tails and hoofs whisked and hurried
+in quest of equine ownership until, reorganized, the spectral steeds
+galloped about to find their riders.
+
+Had it been possible, I would have stopped this riot of wraiths long ere
+this, for it was more awful than I had anticipated, but it was already
+too late. Cowering in the garden, I began to hear the screams of
+awakened and distracted patients. In another moment, the front door of
+the hotel was burst open, and a mob of hysterical women in expensive
+nightgowns rushed out upon the lawn, and huddled in shrieking groups.
+
+I fled into the night.
+
+I fled, but Napoleon's men fled with me. Compelled by I know not what
+fatal astral attraction, perhaps the subtle affinity of the creature for
+the creator, the spectral shells, moved by some mysterious mechanics of
+spiritual being, pursued me with fatuous fury. I sought refuge, first,
+in my laboratory, but, even as I approached, a lurid glare foretold me
+of its destruction. As I drew nearer, the whole ghost-factory was seen
+to be in flames; every moment crackling reports were heard, as the
+over-heated tins of phantasmagoria exploded and threw their supernatural
+contents upon the night. These liberated ghosts joined the army of
+Napoleon's outraged warriors, and turned upon me. There was not enough
+formaldybrom in all the world to quench their fierce energy. There was
+no place in all the world safe for me from their visitation. No
+ghost-extinguisher was powerful enough to lay the host of spirits that
+haunted me henceforth, and I had neither time nor money left with which
+to construct new Gatling quick-firing tanks.
+
+It is little comfort to me to know that one hundred nervous invalids
+were completely restored to health by means of the terrific shock which
+I administered.
+
+
+
+
+"DEY AIN'T NO GHOSTS"
+
+BY ELLIS PARKER BUTLER
+
+From the _Century Magazine_, November, 1911. By permission of the
+Century Company and Ellis Parker Butler.
+
+
+
+
+"Dey Ain't No Ghosts"
+
+BY ELLIS PARKER BUTLER
+
+
+Once 'pon a time dey was a li'l' black boy whut he name was Mose. An'
+whin he come erlong to be 'bout knee-high to a mewel, he 'gin to git
+powerful 'fraid ob ghosts, 'ca'se dat am sure a mighty ghostly location
+whut he lib' in, 'ca'se dey 's a grabeyard in de hollow, an' a
+buryin'-ground on de hill, an' a cemuntary in betwixt an' between, an'
+dey ain't nuffin' but trees nowhar excipt in de clearin' by de shanty
+an' down de hollow whar de pumpkin-patch am.
+
+An' whin de night come erlong, dey ain't no sounds _at_ all whut kin be
+heard in dat locality but de rain-doves, whut mourn out,
+"Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" jes dat trembulous _an'_ scary, an' de owls, whut mourn
+out, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" more trembulous an' scary dan dat, an' de
+wind, whut mourn out, "You-_you_-o-o-o!" mos' scandalous' trembulous an'
+scary ob all. Dat a powerful onpleasant locality for a li'l' black boy
+whut he name was Mose.
+
+'Ca'se dat li'l' black boy he so specially black he can't be seen in de
+dark _at_ all 'cept by de whites ob he eyes. So whin he go' outen de
+house _at_ night, he ain't dast shut he eyes, 'ca'se den ain't nobody
+can see him in de least. He jes as invidsible as nuffin'. An' who know'
+but whut a great, big ghost bump right into him 'ca'se it can't see him?
+An' dat shore w'u'd scare dat li'l' black boy powerful' bad, 'ca'se
+yever'body knows whut a cold, damp pussonality a ghost is.
+
+So whin dat li'l' black Mose go' outen de shanty at night, he keep' he
+eyes wide open, you may be shore. By day he eyes 'bout de size ob
+butter-pats, an' come sundown he eyes 'bout de size ob saucers; but whin
+he go' outen de shanty at night, he eyes am de size ob de white chiny
+plate whut set on de mantel; an' it powerful' hard to keep eyes whut am
+de size ob dat from a-winkin' an' a-blinkin'.
+
+So whin Hallowe'en come' erlong, dat li'l' black Mose he jes mek' up he
+mind he ain't gwine outen he shack _at_ all. He cogitate he gwine stay
+right snug in de shack wid he pa an' he ma, 'ca'se de rain-doves tek
+notice dat de ghosts are philanderin' roun' de country, 'ca'se dey mourn
+out, "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owls dey mourn out, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!"
+an' de wind mourn out, "You-_you_-o-o-o!" De eyes ob dat li'l' black
+Mose dey as big as de white chiny plate whut set on de mantel by side de
+clock, an' de sun jes a-settin'.
+
+So dat all right. Li'l' black Mose he scrooge' back in de corner by de
+fireplace, an' he 'low' he gwine stay dere till he gwine _to_ bed. But
+byme-by Sally Ann, whut live' up de road, draps in, an' Mistah Sally
+Ann, whut is her husban', he draps in, an' Zack Badget an' de
+school-teacher whut board' at Unc' Silas Diggs's house drap in, an' a
+powerful lot ob folks drap in. An' li'l' black Mose he seen dat gwine be
+one s'prise-party, an' he right down cheerful 'bout dat.
+
+So all dem folks shake dere hands an' 'low "Howdy," an' some ob dem say:
+"Why, dere's li'l' Mose! Howdy, li'l' Mose?" An' he so please' he jes
+grin' an' grin', 'ca'se he ain't reckon whut gwine happen. So byme-by
+Sally Ann, whut live up de road, she say', "Ain't no sort o' Hallowe'en
+lest we got a jack-o'-lantern." An' de school-teacher, whut board at
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she 'low', "Hallowe'en jes no Hallowe'en _at_
+all 'thout we got a jack-o'-lantern." An' li'l' black Mose he stop'
+a-grinnin', an' he scrooge' so far back in de corner he 'mos' scrooge
+frough de wall. But dat ain't no use, 'ca'se he ma say', "Mose, go on
+down to de pumpkin-patch an' fotch a pumpkin."
+
+"I ain't want to go," say' li'l' black Mose.
+
+"Go on erlong wid yo'," say' he ma, right commandin'.
+
+"I ain't want to go," say' Mose ag'in.
+
+"Why ain't yo' want to go?" he ma ask'.
+
+"'Ca'se I's afraid ob de ghosts," say' li'l' black Mose, an' dat de
+particular truth an' no mistake.
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts," say' de school-teacher, whut board at Unc' Silas
+Diggs's house, right peart.
+
+"'Co'se dey ain't no ghosts," say' Zack Badget, whut dat 'fear'd ob
+ghosts he ain't dar' come to li'l' black Mose's house ef de
+school-teacher ain't ercompany him.
+
+"Go 'long wid your ghosts!" say li'l' black Mose's ma.
+
+"Wha' yo' pick up dat nomsense?" say' he pa. "Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' dat whut all dat s'prise-party 'low: dey ain't no ghosts. An' dey
+'low dey mus' hab a jack-o'-lantern or de fun all sp'iled. So dat li'l'
+black boy whut he name is Mose he done got to fotch a pumpkin from de
+pumpkin-patch down de hollow. So he step'outen de shanty an' he stan' on
+de doorstep twell he get' he eyes pried open as big as de bottom ob he
+ma's wash-tub, mostly, an' he say', "Dey ain't no ghosts." An' he put'
+one foot on de ground, an' dat was de fust step.
+
+An' de rain-dove say', "OO-_oo_-o-o-o!"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step.
+
+An' de owl mourn' out, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he tuck anudder step.
+
+An' de wind sob' out, "You-_you_-o-o-o!"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he tuck one look ober he shoulder, an' he shut he
+eyes so tight dey hurt round de aidges, an' he pick' up he foots an'
+run. Yas, sah, he run' right peart fast. An' he say': "Dey ain't no
+ghosts. Dey ain't no ghosts." An' he run' erlong de paff whut lead' by
+de buryin'-ground on de hill, 'ca'se dey ain't no fince eround dat
+buryin'-ground _at_ all.
+
+No fince; jes' de big trees whut de owls an' de rain-doves sot in an'
+mourn an' sob, an' whut de wind sigh an' cry frough. An byme-by somefin'
+jes' _brush_' li'l' Mose on de arm, which mek' him run jes a bit more
+faster. An' byme-by somefin' jes brush' li'l' Mose on de cheek, which
+mek' him run erbout as fast as he can. An' byme-by somefin' grab' li'l'
+Mose by de aidge of he coat, an' he fight' an' struggle' an' cry out:
+"Dey ain't no ghosts. Dey ain't no ghosts." An' dat ain't nuffin' but de
+wild brier whut grab' him, an' dat ain't nuffin' but de leaf ob a tree
+whut brush' he cheek, an' dat ain't nuffin' but de branch ob a
+hazel-bush whut brush' he arm. But he downright scared jes de same, an'
+he ain't lose no time, 'ca'se de wind an' de owls an' de rain-doves dey
+signerfy whut ain't no good. So he scoot' past dat buryin'-ground whut
+on de hill, an' dat cemuntary whut betwixt an' between, an' dat
+grabeyard in de hollow, twell he come' to de pumpkin-patch, an' he
+rotch' down an' tek' erhold ob de bestest pumpkin whut in de patch. An'
+he right smart scared. He jes' de mostest scared li'l' black boy whut
+yever was. He ain't gwine open he eyes fo' nuffin', 'ca'se de wind go,
+"You-_you_-o-o-o!" an' de owls go, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' de
+rain-doves go, "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!"
+
+He jes speculate', "Dey ain't no ghosts," an' wish' he hair don't stand
+on ind dat way. An' he jes cogitate', "Dey ain't no ghosts," an' wish'
+he goose-pimples don't rise up dat way. An' he jes 'low', "Dey ain't no
+ghosts," an' wish' he backbone ain't all trembulous wid chills dat way.
+So he rotch' down, an' he rotch' down, twell he git' a good hold on dat
+pricklesome stem of dat bestest pumpkin whut in de patch, an' he jes
+yank' dat stem wid all he might.
+
+"_Let loosen my head!_" say' a big voice all on a suddent.
+
+Dat li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose he jump' 'most outen he skin.
+He open' he eyes, an' he 'gin to shake like de aspen-tree, 'ca'se whut
+dat a-standin' right dar behint him but a 'mendjous big ghost! Yas, sah,
+dat de bigges', whites' ghost whut yever was. An' it ain't got no head.
+Ain't got no head _at_ all! Li'l' black Mose he jes drap' on he knees
+an' he beg' an' pray':
+
+"Oh, 'scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost!" he beg'. "Ah ain't mean no
+harm _at_ all."
+
+"Whut for you try to take my head?" ask' de ghost in dat fearsome voice
+whut like de damp wind outen de cellar.
+
+"'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" beg' li'l' Mose. "Ah ain't know dat was yo'
+head, an' I ain't know you was dar _at_ all. 'Scuse me!"
+
+"Ah 'scuse you ef you do me dis favor," say' de ghost. "Ah got somefin'
+powerful _im_portant to say unto you, an' Ah can't say hit 'ca'se Ah
+ain't got no head; an' whin Ah ain't got no head, Ah ain't got no mouf,
+an' whin Ah ain't got no mouf, Ah can't talk _at_ all."
+
+An' dat right logical fo' shore. Can't nobody talk whin he ain't got no
+mouf, an' can't nobody have no mouf whin he ain't got no head, an' whin
+li'l' black Mose he look', he see' dat ghost ain't got no head _at_ all.
+Nary head.
+
+So de ghost say':
+
+"Ah come on down yere fo' to git a pumpkin fo' a head, an' Ah pick' dat
+_ixact_ pumpkin whut yo' gwine tek, an' Ah don't like dat one bit. No,
+sah. Ah feel like Ah pick yo' up an' carry yo' away, an' nobody see you
+no more for yever. But Ah got somefin' powerful _im_portant to say unto
+yo', an' if yo' pick up dat pumpkin an' sot it on de place whar my head
+ought to be, Ah let you off dis time, 'ca'se Ah ain't been able to talk
+fo' so long Ah right hongry to say somefin'."
+
+So li'l' black Mose he heft up dat pumpkin, an' de ghost he bend' down,
+an' li'l' black Mose he sot dat pumpkin on dat ghostses neck. An' right
+off dat pumpkin head 'gin' to wink an' blink like a jack-o'-lantern, an'
+right off dat pumpkin head 'gin' to glimmer an' glow frough de mouf like
+a jack-o'-lantern, an' right off dat ghost start' to speak. Yas, sah,
+dass so.
+
+"Whut yo' want to say unto me?" _in_quire' li'l' black Mose.
+
+"Ah want to tell yo'," say' de ghost, "dat yo' ain't need yever be
+skeered of ghosts, 'ca'se dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' whin he say dat, de ghost jes vanish' away like de smoke in July. He
+ain't even linger round dat locality like de smoke in Yoctober. He jes
+dissipate' outen de air, an' he gone _in_tirely.
+
+So li'l' Mose he grab' up de nex' bestest pumpkin an' he scoot'. An'
+whin he come' to de grabeyard in de hollow, he goin' erlong same as
+yever, on'y faster, whin he reckon' he'll pick up a club _in_ case he
+gwine have trouble. An' he rotch' down an' rotch' down an' tek' hold of
+a likely appearin' hunk o' wood whut right dar. An' whin he grab' dat
+hunk of wood----
+
+"_Let loosen my leg!_" say' a big voice all on a suddent.
+
+Dat li'l' black boy 'most jump' outen he skin, 'ca'se right dar in de
+paff is six 'mendjus big ghostes an' de bigges' ain't got but one leg.
+So li'l' black Mose jes natchully handed dat hunk of wood to dat bigges'
+ghost, an' he say':
+
+"'Scuse me, Mistah Ghost; Ah ain't know dis your leg."
+
+An' whut dem six ghostes do but stand round an' confabulate? Yas, sah,
+dass so. An' whin dey do so, one say':
+
+"'Pears like dis a mighty likely li'l' black boy. Whut we gwine do fo'
+to _re_ward him fo' politeness?"
+
+An' annuder say':
+
+"Tell him whut de truth is 'bout ghostes."
+
+So de bigges' ghost he say':
+
+"Ah gwine tell yo' somefin' _im_portant whut yever'body don't know: Dey
+_ain't_ no ghosts."
+
+An' whin he say' dat, de ghostes jes natchully vanish away, an' li'l'
+black Mose he proceed' up de paff. He so scared he hair jes yank' at de
+roots, an' whin de wind go', "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owl go',
+"Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' de rain-doves go, "You-_you_-o-o-o-!" he jes
+tremble' an' shake'. An' byme-by he come' to de cemuntary whut betwixt
+an' between, an' he shore is mighty skeered, 'ca'se dey is a whole
+comp'ny of ghostes lined up along de road, an' he 'low' he ain't gwine
+spind no more time palaverin' wid ghostes. So he step' offen de road fo'
+to go round erbout, an' he step' on a pine-stump whut lay right dar.
+
+"_Git offen my chest!_" say' a big voice all on a suddent, 'ca'se dat
+stump am been selected by de captain ob de ghostes for to be he chest,
+'ca'se he ain't got no chest betwixt he shoulders an' he legs. An' li'l'
+black Mose he hop' offen dat stump right peart. Yes, _sah_; right peart.
+
+"'Scuse me! 'Scuse me!" dat li'l' black Mose beg' an' plead', an' de
+ghostes ain't know whuther to eat him all up or not, 'ca'se he step on
+de boss ghostes's chest dat a-way. But byme-by they 'low they let him go
+'ca'se dat was an accident, an' de captain ghost he say', "Mose, you
+Mose, Ah gwine let you off dis time, 'ca'se you ain't nuffin' but a
+misabul li'l' tremblin' nigger; but Ah want you should _re_mimimber one
+thing mos' particular'."
+
+"Ya-yas, sah," say' dat li'l' black boy; "Ah'll remimber. Whut is dat Ah
+got to remimber?"
+
+De captain ghost he swell' up, an' he swell' up, twell he as big as a
+house, an' he say' in a voice whut shake' de ground:
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+So li'l' black Mose he bound to remimber dat, an' he rise' up an' mek' a
+bow, an' he proceed' toward home right libely. He do, indeed.
+
+An' he gwine along jes as fast as he kin, whin he come' to de aidge ob
+de buryin'-ground whut on de hill, an' right dar he bound to stop,
+'ca'se de kentry round about am so populate' he ain't able to go frough.
+Yas, sah, seem' like all de ghostes in de world habin' a conferince
+right dar. Seem' like all de ghosteses whut yever was am havin' a
+convintion on dat spot. An' dat li'l' black Mose so skeered he jes fall'
+down on a' old log whut dar an' screech' an' moan'. An' all on a suddent
+de log up and spoke:
+
+"_Get offen me! Get offen me!_" yell' dat log.
+
+So li'l' black Mose he git' offen dat log, an' no mistake.
+
+An' soon as he git' offen de log, de log uprise, an' li'l' black Mose he
+see' dat dat log am de king ob all de ghostes. An' whin de king uprise,
+all de congergation crowd round li'l' black Mose, an' dey am about leben
+millium an' a few lift over. Yas, sah; dat de reg'lar annyul Hallowe'en
+convintion whut li'l' black Mose interrup'. Right dar am all de sperits
+in de world, an' all de ha'nts in de world, an' all de hobgoblins in de
+world, an' all de ghouls in de world, an' all de spicters in de world,
+an' all de ghostes in de world. An' whin dey see li'l' black Mose, dey
+all gnash dey teef an' grin' 'ca'se it gettin' erlong toward dey-all's
+lunch-time. So de king, whut he name old Skull-an'-Bones, he step' on
+top ob li'l' Mose's head, an' he say':
+
+"Gin'l'min, de convintion will come to order. De sicretary please note
+who is prisint. De firs' business whut come' before de convintion am:
+whut we gwine do to a li'l' black boy whut stip' on de king an' maul'
+all ober de king an' treat' de king dat disrespictful'."
+
+An li'l' black Mose jes moan' an' sob':
+
+"'Scuse me! 'Scuse me, Mistah King! Ah ain't mean no harm _at_ all."
+
+But nobody ain't pay no _at_tintion to him _at_ all, 'ca'se yevery one
+lookin' at a monstrous big ha'nt whut name Bloody Bones, whut rose up
+an' spoke.
+
+"Your Honor, Mistah King, an' gin'l'min _an_' ladies," he say', "dis am
+a right bad case ob _lasy majesty_, 'ca'se de king been step on. Whin
+yivery li'l' black boy whut choose' gwine wander round _at_ night an'
+stip on de king ob ghostes, it ain't no time for to palaver, it ain't no
+time for to prevaricate, it ain't no time for to cogitate, it ain't no
+time do nuffin' but tell de truth, an' de whole truth, an' nuffin' but
+de truth."
+
+An' all dem ghostes sicond de motion, an' dey confabulate out loud
+erbout dat, an' de noise soun' like de rain-doves goin',
+"Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owls goin', "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' de wind
+goin', "You-_you_-o-o-o!" So dat risolution am passed unanermous, an' no
+mistake.
+
+So de king ob de ghostes, whut name old Skull-an'-Bones, he place' he
+hand on de head ob li'l' black Mose, an' he hand feel like a wet rag,
+an' he say':
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' one ob de hairs whut on de head of li'l' black Mose turn' white.
+
+An' de monstrous big ha'nt whut he name Bloody Bones he lay he hand on
+de head ob li'l' black Mose, an' he hand feel like a toadstool in de
+cool ob de day, an' he say':
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li'l' black Mose turn' white.
+
+An' a heejus sperit whut he name Moldy Pa'm place' he hand on de head ob
+li'l' black Mose, an' he hand feel like de yunner side ob a lizard, an'
+he say':
+
+"Dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+An' anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li'l' black Mose turn white
+_as_ snow.
+
+An' a perticklar bend-up hobgoblin he put' he hand on de head ob li'l'
+black Mose, an' he mek' dat same _re_mark, an' dat whole convintion ob
+ghostes an' spicters an' ha'nts an' yiver'thing, which am more 'n a
+millium, pass by so quick dey-all's hands feel lak de wind whut blow
+outen de cellar whin de day am hot, an' dey-all say, "Dey ain't no
+ghosts." Yas, sah, dey-all say dem wo'ds so fas' it soun' like de wind
+whin it moan frough de turkentine-trees whut behind de cider-priss. An'
+yivery hair whut on li'l' black Mose's head turn' white. Dat whut
+happen' whin a li'l' black boy gwine meet a ghost convintion dat-a-way.
+Dat's so he ain' gwine forgit to remimber dey ain't no ghostes. 'Ca'se
+ef a li'l' black boy gwine imaginate dey _is_ ghostes, he gwine be
+skeered in de dark. An' dat a foolish thing for to imaginate.
+
+So prisintly all de ghostes am whiff away, like de fog outen de holler
+whin de wind blow' on it, an' li'l' black Mose he ain' see no ca'se for
+to remain in dat locality no longer. He rotch' down, an' he raise' up de
+pumpkin, an' he perambulate' right quick to he ma's shack, an' he lift'
+up de latch, an' he open' de do', an' he yenter' in. An' he say':
+
+"Yere's de pumpkin."
+
+An' he ma an' he pa, an' Sally Ann, whut live up de road, an' Mistah
+Sally Ann, whut her husban', an' Zack Badget, an' de school-teacher whut
+board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, an' all de powerful lot of folks whut
+come to de doin's, dey all scrooged back in de cornder ob de shack,
+'ca'se Zack Badget he been done tell a ghost-tale, an' de rain-doves
+gwine, "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' de owls am gwine, "Whut-_whoo_-o-o-o!" and
+de wind it gwine, "You-_you_-o-o-o!" an' yiver'body powerful skeered.
+'Ca'se li'l' black Mose he come' a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do' jes
+whin dat ghost-tale mos' skeery, an' yiver'body gwine imaginate dat he a
+ghost a-fumblin' an' a-rattlin' at de do'. Yas, sah. So li'l' black Mose
+he turn' he white head, an' he look' roun' an' peer' roun', an' he say':
+
+"Whut you all skeered fo'?"
+
+'Ca'se ef anybody skeered, he want' to be skeered too. Dat's natural.
+But de school-teacher, whut live at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she say':
+
+"Fo' de lan's sake, we fought you was a ghost!"
+
+So li'l' black Mose he sort ob sniff an' he sort ob sneer, an' he 'low':
+
+"Huh! dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+Den he ma she powerful took back dat li'l' black Mose he gwine be so
+uppetish an' contrydict folks whut know 'rifmeticks an' algebricks an'
+gin'ral countin' widout fingers, like de school-teacher whut board at
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house knows, an' she say':
+
+"Huh! whut you know 'bout ghosts, anner ways?"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he jes kinder stan' on one foot, an' he jes kinder
+suck' he thumb, an' he jes kinder 'low':
+
+"I don't know nuffin' erbout ghosts, 'ca'se dey ain't no ghosts."
+
+So he pa gwine whop him fo' tellin' a fib 'bout dey ain' no ghosts whin
+yiver'body know' dey is ghosts; but de school-teacher, whut board at
+Unc' Silas Diggs's house, she tek' note de hair ob li'l' black Mose's
+head am plumb white, an' she tek' note li'l' black Mose's face am de
+color ob wood-ash, so she jes retch' one arm round dat li'l' black boy,
+an' she jes snuggle' him up, an' she say':
+
+"Honey lamb, don't you be skeered; ain' nobody gwine hurt you. How you
+know dey ain't no ghosts?"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he kinder lean' up 'g'inst de school-teacher whut
+board at Unc' Silas Diggs's house, an' he 'low':
+
+"'Ca'se--'ca'se--'ca'se I met de cap'n ghost, an' I met de gin'ral
+ghost, an' I met de king ghost, an' I met all de ghostes whut yiver was
+in de whole worl', an' yivery ghost say' de same thing: 'Dey ain't no
+ghosts.' An' if de cap'n ghost an' de gin'ral ghost an' de king ghost
+an' all de ghostes in de whole worl' don't know ef dar am ghostes, who
+does?"
+
+"Das right; das right, honey lamb," say' de school-teacher. And she
+say': "I been s'picious dey ain' no ghostes dis long whiles, an' now I
+know. Ef all de ghostes say dey ain' no ghosts, dey _ain'_ no ghosts."
+
+So yiver'body 'low' dat so 'cep' Zack Badget, whut been tellin' de
+ghost-tale, an' he ain' gwine say "Yis" an' he ain' gwine say "No,"
+'ca'se he right sweet on de school-teacher; but he know right well he
+done seen plinty ghostes in he day. So he boun' to be sure fust. So he
+say' to li'l' black Mose:
+
+"'T ain't likely you met up wid a monstrous big ha'nt whut live' down de
+lane whut he name Bloody Bones?"
+
+"Yas," say' li'l' black Mose; "I done met up wid him."
+
+"An' did old Bloody Bones done tol' you dey ain' no ghosts?" say Zack
+Badget.
+
+"Yas," say' li'l' black Mose, "he done tell me perzackly dat."
+
+"Well, if _he_ tol' you dey ain't no ghosts," say' Zack Badget, "I got
+to 'low dey ain't no ghosts, 'ca'se he ain' gwine tell no lie erbout it.
+I know dat Bloody Bones ghost sence I was a piccaninny, an' I done met
+up wif him a powerful lot o' times, an' he ain't gwine tell no lie
+erbout it. Ef dat perticklar ghost say' dey ain't no ghosts, dey _ain't_
+no ghosts."
+
+So yiver'body say':
+
+"Das right; dey ain' no ghosts."
+
+An' dat mek' li'l' black Mose feel mighty good, 'ca'se he ain' lak
+ghostes. He reckon' he gwine be a heap mo' comfortable in he mind sence
+he know' dey ain' no ghosts, an' he reckon' he ain' gwine be skeered of
+nuffin' never no more. He ain' gwine min' de dark, an' he ain' gwine
+min' de rain-doves whut go', "Oo-_oo_-o-o-o!" an' he ain' gwine min' de
+owls whut go', "Who-_whoo_-o-o-o!" an' he ain' gwine min' de wind whut
+go', "You-_you_-o-o-o!" nor nuffin', nohow. He gwine be brave as a lion,
+sence he know' fo' sure dey ain' no ghosts. So prisintly he ma say':
+
+"Well, time fo' a li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose to be gwine up de
+ladder to de loft to bed."
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he 'low' he gwine wait a bit. He 'low' he gwine jes
+wait a li'l' bit. He 'low' he gwine be no trouble _at_ all ef he jes
+been let wait twell he ma she gwine up de ladder to de loft to bed, too.
+So he ma she say':
+
+"Git erlong wid yo'! Whut yo' skeered ob whin dey ain't no ghosts?"
+
+An' li'l' black Mose he scrooge', and he twist', an' he pucker' up de
+mouf, an' he rub' he eyes, an' prisintly he say' right low:
+
+"I ain' skeered ob ghosts whut am, 'ca'se dey ain' no ghosts."
+
+"Den whut _am_ yo' skeered ob?" ask he ma.
+
+"Nuffin," say' de li'l' black boy whut he name is Mose; "but I jes feel
+kinder oneasy 'bout de ghosts whut ain't."
+
+Jes lak white folks! Jes lak white folks!
+
+
+
+
+THE TRANSFERRED GHOST
+
+BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+From _The Lady or the Tiger? and Other Stories_. Copyright, 1884, by
+Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of the publishers.
+
+
+
+
+The Transferred Ghost
+
+BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+
+The country residence of Mr. John Hinckman was a delightful place to me,
+for many reasons. It was the abode of a genial, though somewhat
+impulsive, hospitality. It had broad, smooth-shaven lawns and towering
+oaks and elms; there were bosky shades at several points, and not far
+from the house there was a little rill spanned by a rustic bridge with
+the bark on; there were fruits and flowers, pleasant people, chess,
+billiards, rides, walks, and fishing. These were great attractions; but
+none of them, nor all of them together, would have been sufficient to
+hold me to the place very long. I had been invited for the trout season,
+but should, probably, have finished my visit early in the summer had it
+not been that upon fair days, when the grass was dry, and the sun was
+not too hot, and there was but little wind, there strolled beneath the
+lofty elms, or passed lightly through the bosky shades, the form of my
+Madeline.
+
+This lady was not, in very truth, my Madeline. She had never given
+herself to me, nor had I, in any way, acquired possession of her. But as
+I considered her possession the only sufficient reason for the
+continuance of my existence, I called her, in my reveries, mine. It may
+have been that I would not have been obliged to confine the use of this
+possessive pronoun to my reveries had I confessed the state of my
+feelings to the lady.
+
+But this was an unusually difficult thing to do. Not only did I dread,
+as almost all lovers dread, taking the step which would in an instant
+put an end to that delightful season which may be termed the
+ante-interrogatory period of love, and which might at the same time
+terminate all intercourse or connection with the object of my passion;
+but I was, also, dreadfully afraid of John Hinckman. This gentleman was
+a good friend of mine, but it would have required a bolder man than I
+was at that time to ask him for the gift of his niece, who was the head
+of his household, and, according to his own frequent statement, the main
+prop of his declining years. Had Madeline acquiesced in my general views
+on the subject, I might have felt encouraged to open the matter to Mr.
+Hinckman; but, as I said before, I had never asked her whether or not
+she would be mine. I thought of these things at all hours of the day and
+night, particularly the latter.
+
+I was lying awake one night, in the great bed in my spacious chamber,
+when, by the dim light of the new moon, which partially filled the room,
+I saw John Hinckman standing by a large chair near the door. I was very
+much surprised at this for two reasons. In the first place, my host had
+never before come into my room; and, in the second place, he had gone
+from home that morning, and had not expected to return for several days.
+It was for this reason that I had been able that evening to sit much
+later than usual with Madeline on the moonlit porch. The figure was
+certainly that of John Hinckman in his ordinary dress, but there was a
+vagueness and indistinctness about it which presently assured me that it
+was a ghost. Had the good old man been murdered? and had his spirit come
+to tell me of the deed, and to confide to me the protection of his
+dear--? My heart fluttered at what I was about to think, but at this
+instant the figure spoke.
+
+"Do you know," he said, with a countenance that indicated anxiety, "if
+Mr. Hinckman will return to-night?"
+
+I thought it well to maintain a calm exterior, and I answered:
+
+"We do not expect him."
+
+"I am glad of that," said he, sinking into the chair by which he stood.
+"During the two years and a half that I have inhabited this house, that
+man has never before been away for a single night. You can't imagine the
+relief it gives me."
+
+And as he spoke he stretched out his legs, and leaned back in the chair.
+His form became less vague, and the colors of his garments more distinct
+and evident, while an expression of gratified relief succeeded to the
+anxiety of his countenance.
+
+"Two years and a half!" I exclaimed. "I don't understand you."
+
+"It is fully that length of time," said the ghost, "since I first came
+here. Mine is not an ordinary case. But before I say anything more about
+it, let me ask you again if you are sure Mr. Hinckman will not return
+to-night."
+
+"I am as sure of it as I can be of anything," I answered. "He left
+to-day for Bristol, two hundred miles away."
+
+"Then I will go on," said the ghost, "for I am glad to have the
+opportunity of talking to someone who will listen to me; but if John
+Hinckman should come in and catch me here, I should be frightened out of
+my wits."
+
+"This is all very strange," I said, greatly puzzled by what I had heard.
+"Are you the ghost of Mr. Hinckman?"
+
+This was a bold question, but my mind was so full of other emotions that
+there seemed to be no room for that of fear.
+
+"Yes, I am his ghost," my companion replied, "and yet I have no right to
+be. And this is what makes me so uneasy, and so much afraid of him. It
+is a strange story, and, I truly believe, without precedent. Two years
+and a half ago, John Hinckman was dangerously ill in this very room. At
+one time he was so far gone that he was really believed to be dead. It
+was in consequence of too precipitate a report in regard to this matter
+that I was, at that time, appointed to be his ghost. Imagine my
+surprise and horror, sir, when, after I had accepted the position and
+assumed its responsibilities, that old man revived, became convalescent,
+and eventually regained his usual health. My situation was now one of
+extreme delicacy and embarrassment. I had no power to return to my
+original unembodiment, and I had no right to be the ghost of a man who
+was not dead. I was advised by my friends to quietly maintain my
+position, and was assured that, as John Hinckman was an elderly man, it
+could not be long before I could rightfully assume the position for
+which I had been selected. But I tell you, sir," he continued, with
+animation, "the old fellow seems as vigorous as ever, and I have no idea
+how much longer this annoying state of things will continue. I spend my
+time trying to get out of that old man's way. I must not leave this
+house, and he seems to follow me everywhere. I tell you, sir, he haunts
+me."
+
+"That is truly a queer state of things," I remarked. "But why are you
+afraid of him? He couldn't hurt you."
+
+"Of course he couldn't," said the ghost. "But his very presence is a
+shock and terror to me. Imagine, sir, how you would feel if my case were
+yours."
+
+I could not imagine such a thing at all. I simply shuddered.
+
+"And if one must be a wrongful ghost at all," the apparition continued,
+"it would be much pleasanter to be the ghost of some man other than
+John Hinckman. There is in him an irascibility of temper, accompanied
+by a facility of invective, which is seldom met with. And what would
+happen if he were to see me, and find out, as I am sure he would, how
+long and why I had inhabited his house, I can scarcely conceive. I have
+seen him in his bursts of passion; and, although he did not hurt the
+people he stormed at any more than he would hurt me, they seemed to
+shrink before him."
+
+All this I knew to be very true. Had it not been for this peculiarity of
+Mr. Hinckman, I might have been more willing to talk to him about his
+niece.
+
+"I feel sorry for you," I said, for I really began to have a sympathetic
+feeling toward this unfortunate apparition. "Your case is indeed a hard
+one. It reminds me of those persons who have had doubles, and I suppose
+a man would often be very angry indeed when he found that there was
+another being who was personating himself."
+
+"Oh! the cases are not similar at all," said the ghost. "A double or
+_doppelgaenger_ lives on the earth with a man; and, being exactly like
+him, he makes all sorts of trouble, of course. It is very different with
+me. I am not here to live with Mr. Hinckman. I am here to take his
+place. Now, it would make John Hinckman very angry if he knew that.
+Don't you know it would?"
+
+I assented promptly.
+
+"Now that he is away I can be easy for a little while," continued the
+ghost; "and I am so glad to have an opportunity of talking to you. I
+have frequently come into your room, and watched you while you slept,
+but did not dare to speak to you for fear that if you talked with me Mr.
+Hinckman would hear you, and come into the room to know why you were
+talking to yourself."
+
+"But would he not hear you?" I asked.
+
+"Oh, no!" said the other: "there are times when anyone may see me, but
+no one hears me except the person to whom I address myself."
+
+"But why did you wish to speak to me?" I asked.
+
+"Because," replied the ghost, "I like occasionally to talk to people,
+and especially to someone like yourself, whose mind is so troubled and
+perturbed that you are not likely to be frightened by a visit from one
+of us. But I particularly wanted to ask you to do me a favor. There is
+every probability, so far as I can see, that John Hinckman will live a
+long time, and my situation is becoming insupportable. My great object
+at present is to get myself transferred, and I think that you may,
+perhaps, be of use to me."
+
+"Transferred!" I exclaimed. "What do you mean by that?"
+
+"What I mean," said the other, "is this: Now that I have started on my
+career I have got to be the ghost of somebody, and I want to be the
+ghost of a man who is really dead."
+
+"I should think that would be easy enough," I said. "Opportunities must
+continually occur."
+
+"Not at all! not at all!" said my companion quickly. "You have no idea
+what a rush and pressure there is for situations of this kind. Whenever
+a vacancy occurs, if I may express myself in that way, there are crowds
+of applications for the ghost-ship."
+
+"I had no idea that such a state of things existed," I said, becoming
+quite interested in the matter. "There ought to be some regular system,
+or order of precedence, by which you could all take your turns like
+customers in a barber's shop."
+
+"Oh dear, that would never do at all!" said the other. "Some of us would
+have to wait forever. There is always a great rush whenever a good
+ghost-ship offers itself--while, as you know, there are some positions
+that no one would care for. And it was in consequence of my being in too
+great a hurry on an occasion of the kind that I got myself into my
+present disagreeable predicament, and I have thought that it might be
+possible that you would help me out of it. You might know of a case
+where an opportunity for a ghost-ship was not generally expected, but
+which might present itself at any moment. If you would give me a short
+notice, I know I could arrange for a transfer."
+
+"What do you mean?" I exclaimed. "Do you want me to commit suicide? Or
+to undertake a murder for your benefit?"
+
+"Oh, no, no, no!" said the other, with a vapory smile. "I mean nothing
+of that kind. To be sure, there are lovers who are watched with
+considerable interest, such persons having been known, in moments of
+depression, to offer very desirable ghost-ships; but I did not think of
+anything of that kind in connection with you. You were the only person I
+cared to speak to, and I hoped that you might give me some information
+that would be of use; and, in return, I shall be very glad to help you
+in your love affair."
+
+"You seem to know that I have such an affair," I said.
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied the other, with a little yawn. "I could not be here
+so much as I have been without knowing all about that."
+
+There was something horrible in the idea of Madeline and myself having
+been watched by a ghost, even, perhaps, when we wandered together in the
+most delightful and bosky places. But, then, this was quite an
+exceptional ghost, and I could not have the objections to him which
+would ordinarily arise in regard to beings of his class.
+
+"I must go now," said the ghost, rising: "but I will see you somewhere
+to-morrow night. And remember--you help me, and I'll help you."
+
+I had doubts the next morning as to the propriety of telling Madeline
+anything about this interview, and soon convinced myself that I must
+keep silent on the subject. If she knew there was a ghost about the
+house, she would probably leave the place instantly. I did not mention
+the matter, and so regulated my demeanor that I am quite sure Madeline
+never suspected what had taken place. For some time I had wished that
+Mr. Hinckman would absent himself, for a day at least, from the
+premises. In such case I thought I might more easily nerve myself up to
+the point of speaking to Madeline on the subject of our future
+collateral existence; and, now that the opportunity for such speech had
+really occurred, I did not feel ready to avail myself of it. What would
+become of me if she refused me?
+
+I had an idea, however, that the lady thought that, if I were going to
+speak at all, this was the time. She must have known that certain
+sentiments were afloat within me, and she was not unreasonable in her
+wish to see the matter settled one way or the other. But I did not feel
+like taking a bold step in the dark. If she wished me to ask her to give
+herself to me, she ought to offer me some reason to suppose that she
+would make the gift. If I saw no probability of such generosity, I would
+prefer that things should remain as they were.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That evening I was sitting with Madeline in the moonlit porch. It was
+nearly ten o'clock, and ever since supper-time I had been working myself
+up to the point of making an avowal of my sentiments. I had not
+positively determined to do this, but wished gradually to reach the
+proper point, when, if the prospect looked bright, I might speak. My
+companion appeared to understand the situation--at least, I imagined
+that the nearer I came to a proposal the more she seemed to expect it.
+It was certainly a very critical and important epoch in my life. If I
+spoke, I should make myself happy or miserable forever, and if I did not
+speak I had every reason to believe that the lady would not give me
+another chance to do so.
+
+Sitting thus with Madeline, talking a little, and thinking very hard
+over these momentous matters, I looked up and saw the ghost, not a dozen
+feet away from us. He was sitting on the railing of the porch, one leg
+thrown up before him, the other dangling down as he leaned against a
+post. He was behind Madeline, but almost in front of me, as I sat facing
+the lady. It was fortunate that Madeline was looking out over the
+landscape, for I must have appeared very much startled. The ghost had
+told me that he would see me some time this night, but I did not think
+he would make his appearance when I was in the company of Madeline. If
+she should see the spirit of her uncle, I could not answer for the
+consequences. I made no exclamation, but the ghost evidently saw that I
+was troubled.
+
+"Don't be afraid," he said--"I shall not let her see me; and she cannot
+hear me speak unless I address myself to her, which I do not intend to
+do."
+
+I suppose I looked grateful.
+
+"So you need not trouble yourself about that," the ghost continued; "but
+it seems to me that you are not getting along very well with your
+affair. If I were you, I should speak out without waiting any longer.
+You will never have a better chance. You are not likely to be
+interrupted; and, so far as I can judge, the lady seems disposed to
+listen to you favorably; that is, if she ever intends to do so. There is
+no knowing when John Hinckman will go away again; certainly not this
+summer. If I were in your place, I should never dare to make love to
+Hinckman's niece if he were anywhere about the place. If he should catch
+anyone offering himself to Miss Madeline, he would then be a terrible
+man to encounter."
+
+I agreed perfectly to all this.
+
+"I cannot bear to think of him!" I ejaculated aloud.
+
+"Think of whom?" asked Madeline, turning quickly toward me.
+
+Here was an awkward situation. The long speech of the ghost, to which
+Madeline paid no attention, but which I heard with perfect distinctness,
+had made me forget myself.
+
+It was necessary to explain quickly. Of course, it would not do to admit
+that it was of her dear uncle that I was speaking; and so I mentioned
+hastily the first name I thought of.
+
+"Mr. Vilars," I said.
+
+This statement was entirely correct; for I never could bear to think of
+Mr. Vilars, who was a gentleman who had, at various times, paid much
+attention to Madeline.
+
+"It is wrong for you to speak in that way of Mr. Vilars," she said. "He
+is a remarkably well educated and sensible young man, and has very
+pleasant manners. He expects to be elected to the legislature this
+fall, and I should not be surprised if he made his mark. He will do well
+in a legislative body, for whenever Mr. Vilars has anything to say he
+knows just how and when to say it."
+
+This was spoken very quietly, and without any show of resentment, which
+was all very natural, for if Madeline thought at all favorably of me she
+could not feel displeased that I should have disagreeable emotions in
+regard to a possible rival. The concluding words contained a hint which
+I was not slow to understand. I felt very sure that if Mr. Vilars were
+in my present position he would speak quickly enough.
+
+"I know it is wrong to have such ideas about a person," I said, "but I
+cannot help it."
+
+The lady did not chide me, and after this she seemed even in a softer
+mood. As for me, I felt considerably annoyed, for I had not wished to
+admit that any thought of Mr. Vilars had ever occupied my mind.
+
+"You should not speak aloud that way," said the ghost, "or you may get
+yourself into trouble. I want to see everything go well with you,
+because then you may be disposed to help me, especially if I should
+chance to be of any assistance to you, which I hope I shall be."
+
+I longed to tell him that there was no way in which he could help me so
+much as by taking his instant departure. To make love to a young lady
+with a ghost sitting on the railing nearby, and that ghost the
+apparition of a much-dreaded uncle, the very idea of whom in such a
+position and at such a time made me tremble, was a difficult, if not an
+impossible, thing to do; but I forbore to speak, although I may have
+looked my mind.
+
+"I suppose," continued the ghost, "that you have not heard anything that
+might be of advantage to me. Of course, I am very anxious to hear; but
+if you have anything to tell me, I can wait until you are alone. I will
+come to you to-night in your room, or I will stay here until the lady
+goes away."
+
+"You need not wait here," I said; "I have nothing at all to say to you."
+
+Madeline sprang to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes ablaze.
+
+"Wait here!" she cried. "What do you suppose I am waiting for? Nothing
+to say to me indeed!--I should think so! What should you have to say to
+me?"
+
+"Madeline!" I exclaimed, stepping toward her, "let me explain."
+
+But she had gone.
+
+Here was the end of the world for me! I turned fiercely to the ghost.
+
+"Wretched existence!" I cried. "You have ruined everything. You have
+blackened my whole life. Had it not been for you----"
+
+But here my voice faltered. I could say no more.
+
+"You wrong me," said the ghost. "I have not injured you. I have tried
+only to encourage and assist you, and it is your own folly that has
+done this mischief. But do not despair. Such mistakes as these can be
+explained. Keep up a brave heart. Good-by."
+
+And he vanished from the railing like a bursting soap-bubble.
+
+I went gloomily to bed, but I saw no apparitions that night except those
+of despair and misery which my wretched thoughts called up. The words I
+had uttered had sounded to Madeline like the basest insult. Of course,
+there was only one interpretation she could put upon them.
+
+As to explaining my ejaculations, that was impossible. I thought the
+matter over and over again as I lay awake that night, and I determined
+that I would never tell Madeline the facts of the case. It would be
+better for me to suffer all my life than for her to know that the ghost
+of her uncle haunted the house. Mr. Hinckman was away, and if she knew
+of his ghost she could not be made to believe that he was not dead. She
+might not survive the shock! No, my heart could bleed, but I would never
+tell her.
+
+The next day was fine, neither too cool nor too warm; the breezes were
+gentle, and nature smiled. But there were no walks or rides with
+Madeline. She seemed to be much engaged during the day, and I saw but
+little of her. When we met at meals she was polite, but very quiet and
+reserved. She had evidently determined on a course of conduct and had
+resolved to assume that, although I had been very rude to her, she did
+not understand the import of my words. It would be quite proper, of
+course, for her not to know what I meant by my expressions of the night
+before.
+
+I was downcast and wretched, and said but little, and the only bright
+streak across the black horizon of my woe was the fact that she did not
+appear to be happy, although she affected an air of unconcern. The
+moonlit porch was deserted that evening, but wandering about the house I
+found Madeline in the library alone. She was reading, but I went in and
+sat down near her. I felt that, although I could not do so fully, I must
+in a measure explain my conduct of the night before. She listened
+quietly to a somewhat labored apology I made for the words I had used.
+
+"I have not the slightest idea what you meant," she said, "but you were
+very rude."
+
+I earnestly disclaimed any intention of rudeness, and assured her, with
+a warmth of speech that must have made some impression upon her, that
+rudeness to her would be an action impossible to me. I said a great deal
+upon the subject, and implored her to believe that if it were not for a
+certain obstacle I could speak to her so plainly that she would
+understand everything.
+
+She was silent for a time, and then she said, rather more kindly, I
+thought, than she had spoken before:
+
+"Is that obstacle in any way connected with my uncle?"
+
+"Yes," I answered, after a little hesitation, "it is, in a measure,
+connected with him."
+
+She made no answer to this, and sat looking at her book, but not
+reading. From the expression of her face, I thought she was somewhat
+softened toward me. She knew her uncle as well as I did, and she may
+have been thinking that, if he were the obstacle that prevented my
+speaking (and there were many ways in which he might be that obstacle),
+my position would be such a hard one that it would excuse some wildness
+of speech and eccentricity of manner. I saw, too, that the warmth of my
+partial explanations had had some effect on her, and I began to believe
+that it might be a good thing for me to speak my mind without delay. No
+matter how she should receive my proposition, my relations with her
+could not be worse than they had been the previous night and day, and
+there was something in her face which encouraged me to hope that she
+might forget my foolish exclamations of the evening before if I began to
+tell her my tale of love.
+
+I drew my chair a little nearer to her, and as I did so the ghost burst
+into the room from the doorway behind her. I say burst, although no door
+flew open and he made no noise. He was wildly excited, and waved his
+arms above his head. The moment I saw him, my heart fell within me. With
+the entrance of that impertinent apparition, every hope fled from me. I
+could not speak while he was in the room.
+
+I must have turned pale; and I gazed steadfastly at the ghost, almost
+without seeing Madeline, who sat between us.
+
+"Do you know," he cried, "that John Hinckman is coming up the hill? He
+will be here in fifteen minutes; and if you are doing anything in the
+way of love-making, you had better hurry it up. But this is not what I
+came to tell you. I have glorious news! At last I am transferred! Not
+forty minutes ago a Russian nobleman was murdered by the Nihilists.
+Nobody ever thought of him in connection with an immediate ghost-ship.
+My friends instantly applied for the situation for me, and obtained my
+transfer. I am off before that horrid Hinckman comes up the hill. The
+moment I reach my new position, I shall put off this hated semblance.
+Good-by. You can't imagine how glad I am to be, at last, the real ghost
+of somebody."
+
+"Oh!" I cried, rising to my feet, and stretching out my arms in utter
+wretchedness, "I would to Heaven you were mine!"
+
+"I _am_ yours," said Madeline, raising to me her tearful eyes.
+
+
+
+
+THE MUMMY'S FOOT
+
+BY THEOPHILE GAUTIER
+
+Translated for this volume by Sara Goldman.
+
+
+
+
+The Mummy's Foot
+
+By THEOPHILE GAUTIER
+
+
+I had sauntered idly into the shop of one of those dealers in old
+curiosities--"bric-a-brac" as they say in that Parisian _argot_, so
+absolutely unintelligible elsewhere in France.
+
+You have no doubt often glanced through the windows of some of these
+shops, which have become numerous since it is so fashionable to buy
+antique furniture, that the humblest stockbroker feels obliged to have a
+room furnished in medieval style.
+
+Something is there which belongs alike to the shop of the dealer in old
+iron, the warehouse of the merchant, the laboratory of the chemist, and
+the studio of the painter: in all these mysterious recesses, where but a
+discreet half-light filters through the shutters, the most obviously
+antique thing is the dust: the cobwebs are more genuine than the laces,
+and the old pear-tree furniture is more modern than the mahogany which
+arrived but yesterday from America.
+
+The warehouse of my dealer in bric-a-brac was a veritable Capharnauem;
+all ages and all countries seemed to have arranged a rendezvous there;
+an Etruscan terra cotta lamp stood upon a Boule cabinet, with ebony
+panels decorated with simple filaments of inlaid copper: a duchess of
+the reign of Louis XV stretched nonchalantly her graceful feet under a
+massive Louis XIII table with heavy, spiral oaken legs, and carvings of
+intermingled flowers and grotesque figures.
+
+In a corner glittered the ornamented breastplate of a suit of
+damaskeened armor of Milan. The shelves and floor were littered with
+porcelain cupids and nymphs, Chinese monkeys, vases of pale green
+enamel, cups of Dresden and old Sevres.
+
+Upon the denticulated shelves of sideboards, gleamed huge Japanese
+plaques, with red and blue designs outlined in gold, side by side with
+the enamels of Bernard Palissy, with serpents, frogs, and lizards in
+relief.
+
+From ransacked cabinets tumbled cascades of silvery-gleaming China silk,
+the shimmering brocade pricked into luminous beads by a slanting
+sunbeam; while portraits of every epoch smiled through their yellowed
+varnish from frames more or less tarnished.
+
+The dealer followed me watchfully through the tortuous passages winding
+between the piles of furniture, warding off with his hands the perilous
+swing of my coat tail, observing my elbows with the disquieting concern
+of an antiquarian and a usurer.
+
+He was an odd figure--this dealer; an enormous skull, smooth as a knee,
+was surrounded by a scant aureole of white hair, which, by contrast,
+emphasized the salmon-colored tint of his complexion, and gave a wrong
+impression of patriarchal benevolence, corrected, however, by the
+glittering of two small, yellow eyes which shifted in their orbits like
+two _louis d'or_ floating on quicksilver. The curve of his nose gave him
+an aquiline silhouette, which suggested the Oriental or Jewish type. His
+hands, long, slender, with prominent veins and sinews protruding like
+the strings on a violin, with nails like the claws on the membraneous
+wings of the bat moved with a senile trembling painful to behold, but
+those nervously quivering hands became firmer than pincers of steel, or
+the claws of a lobster, when they picked up any precious object, an onyx
+cup, a Venetian glass, or a platter of Bohemian crystal. This curious
+old fellow had an air so thoroughly rabbinical and cabalistic, that,
+from mere appearance, he would have been burned at the stake three
+centuries ago.
+
+"Will you not buy something from me to-day, sir? Here is a kris from
+Malay, with a blade which undulates like a flame; look at these grooves
+for the blood to drip from, these teeth reversed so as to tear out the
+entrails in withdrawing the weapon; it is a fine specimen of a ferocious
+weapon, and will be an interesting addition to your trophies; this
+two-handed sword is very beautiful--it is the work of Joseph de la Herz;
+and this _cauchelimarde_ with its carved guard--what superb
+workmanship!"
+
+"No, I have enough weapons and instruments of carnage; I should like to
+have a small figure, any sort of object which can be used for a paper
+weight; for I cannot endure those commonplace bronzes for sale at the
+stationers which one sees invariably on everybody's desk."
+
+The old gnome, rummaging among his ancient wares, displayed before me
+some antique bronzes--pseudo-antique, at least, fragments of malachite,
+little Hindu and Chinese idols, jade monkeys, incarnations of Brahma and
+Vishnu, marvelously suitable for the purpose--scarcely divine--of
+holding papers and letters in place.
+
+I was hesitating between a porcelain dragon covered with constellations
+of warts, its jaws embellished with teeth and tusks, and a hideous
+little Mexican fetish, representing realistically the god
+Vitziliputzili, when I noticed a charming foot, which at first I
+supposed was a fragment of some antique Venus.
+
+It had that beautiful tawny reddish tint, which gives the Florentine
+bronzes their warm, life-like appearance, so preferable to the verdigris
+tones of ordinary bronzes, which might be taken readily for statues in a
+state of putrefaction; a satiny luster gleamed over its curves, polished
+by the amorous kisses of twenty centuries; for it must have been a
+Corinthian bronze, a work of the finest period, molded perhaps by
+Lysippus himself.
+
+"That foot will do," I said to the dealer, who looked at me with an
+ironical, crafty expression, as he handed me the object I asked for, so
+that I might examine it more carefully.
+
+I was surprised at its lightness. It was not a metal foot but in reality
+a foot of flesh, an embalmed foot, a mummy's foot; on examining it more
+closely, one could distinguish the grain of the skin, and the almost
+imperceptible imprint of the weave of the wrappings. The toes were
+slender, delicate, with perfect nails, pure and transparent as agate;
+the great toe, slightly separated from the others, in the antique manner
+was in pleasing contrast to the position of the other toes, and gave a
+suggestion of the freedom and lightness of a bird's foot. The sole,
+faintly streaked with almost invisible lines, showed that it had never
+touched the ground, or come in contact with anything but the finest mats
+woven from the rushes of the Nile, and the softest rugs of panther skin.
+
+"Ha, ha! You want the foot of the Princess Hermonthis," said the dealer
+with a strange, mocking laugh, staring at me with his owlish eyes. "Ha,
+ha, ha, for a paper weight! An original idea! an artist's idea! If
+anyone had told old Pharaoh that the foot of his adored daughter would
+be used for a paper weight, particularly whilst he was having a mountain
+of granite hollowed out in which to place her triple coffin, painted and
+gilded, covered with hieroglyphics, and beautiful pictures of the
+judgment of souls, it would truly have surprised him," continued the
+queer little dealer, in low tones, as though talking to himself.
+
+"How much will you charge me for this fragment of a mummy?"
+
+"Ah, as much as I can get; for it is a superb piece; if I had the mate
+to it, you could not have it for less than five hundred francs--the
+daughter of a Pharaoh! there could be nothing more choice."
+
+"Assuredly it is not common; but, still, how much do you want for it?
+First, however, I want to acquaint you with one fact, which is, that my
+fortune consists of only five louis. I will buy anything that costs five
+louis, but nothing more expensive. You may search my vest pockets, and
+my most secret bureau drawers, but you will not find one miserable five
+franc piece besides."
+
+"Five louis for the foot of the Princess Hermonthis! It is very little,
+too little, in fact, for an authentic foot," said the dealer, shaking
+his head and rolling his eyes with a peculiar rotary motion. "Very well,
+take it, and I will throw in the outer covering," he said, rolling it in
+a shred of old damask--"very beautiful, genuine damask, which has never
+been redyed; it is strong, yet it is soft," he muttered, caressing the
+frayed tissue, in accordance with his dealer's habit of praising an
+article of so little value, that he himself thought it good for nothing
+but to give away.
+
+He dropped the gold pieces into a kind of medieval pouch which was
+fastened at his belt, while he repeated:
+
+"The foot of the Princess Hermonthis to be used for a paper weight!"
+
+Then, fastening upon me his phosphorescent pupils he said, in a voice
+strident as the wails of a cat which has just swallowed a fish bone:
+
+"Old Pharaoh will not be pleased; he loved his daughter--that dear man."
+
+"You speak of him as though you were his contemporary; no matter how old
+you may be, you do not date back to the pyramids of Egypt," I answered
+laughingly from the threshold of the shop.
+
+I returned home, delighted with my purchase.
+
+To make use of it at once, I placed the foot of the exalted Princess
+Hermonthis on a stack of papers--sketches of verses, undecipherable
+mosaics of crossed out words, unfinished articles, forgotten letters,
+posted in the desk drawer, a mistake often made by absent-minded people;
+the effect was pleasing, bizarre, and romantic.
+
+Highly delighted with this decoration, I went down into the street, and
+took a walk with all the importance and pride proper to a man who has
+the inexpressible advantage over the passersby he elbows, of possessing
+a fragment of the Princess Hermonthis, daughter of Pharaoh.
+
+I thought people who did not possess, like myself, a paper weight so
+genuinely Egyptian, were objects of ridicule, and it seemed to me the
+proper business of the sensible man to have a mummy's foot upon his
+desk.
+
+Happily, an encounter with several friends distracted me from my
+raptures over my recent acquisition, I went to dinner with them, for it
+would have been hard for me to dine alone.
+
+When I returned at night, with my brain somewhat muddled by the effects
+of a few glasses of wine, a vague whiff of oriental perfume tickled
+delicately my olfactory nerves. The heat of the room had warmed the
+natron, the bitumen, and the myrrh in which the _paraschites_ who
+embalmed the dead had bathed the body of the Princess; it was a
+delicate, yet penetrating perfume, which four thousand years had not
+been able to dissipate.
+
+The Dream of Egypt was for the Eternal; its odors have the solidity of
+granite, and last as long.
+
+In a short time I drank full draughts from the black cup of sleep; for
+an hour or two all remained in obscurity; Oblivion and Nothingness
+submerged me in their somber waves.
+
+Nevertheless the haziness of my perceptions gradually cleared away,
+dreams began to brush me lightly in their silent flight.
+
+The eyes of my soul opened, and I saw my room as it was in reality. I
+might have believed myself awake, if I had not had a vague consciousness
+that I was asleep, and that something very unusual was about to take
+place.
+
+The odor of myrrh had increased in intensity, and I had a slight
+headache, which I very naturally attributed to several glasses of
+champagne that we had drunk to unknown gods, and to our future success.
+
+I scrutinized my room with a feeling of expectation, which there was
+nothing to justify. Each piece of furniture was in its usual place; the
+lamp, softly shaded by the milky whiteness of its ground crystal globe,
+burned upon the console, the water colors glowed from under the Bohemian
+glass; the curtains hung in heavy drooping folds; everything suggested
+tranquility and slumber.
+
+Nevertheless, after a few moments the quiet of the room was disturbed,
+the woodwork creaked furtively, the ash-covered log suddenly spurted out
+a blue flame, and the surfaces of the plaques seemed like metallic eyes,
+watching, like myself, for what was about to happen.
+
+By chance my eyes fell on the table on which I had placed the foot of
+the Princess Hermonthis.
+
+Instead of remaining in the state of immobility proper to a foot which
+has been embalmed for four thousand years, it moved about in an agitated
+manner, twitching, leaping about over the papers like a frightened frog;
+one might have thought it in contact with a galvanic battery; I could
+hear distinctly the quick tap of the little heel, hard as the hoof of a
+gazelle.
+
+I became rather dissatisfied with my purchase, for I like paper weights
+of sedentary habits--besides I found it very unnatural for feet to move
+about without legs, and I began to feel something closely resembling
+fear.
+
+Suddenly I noticed a movement of one of the folds of my curtains, and I
+heard a stamping like that made by a person hopping about on one foot.
+I must admit that I grew hot and cold by turns, that I felt a mysterious
+breeze blowing down my back, and that my hair stood on end so suddenly
+that it forced my night-cap to a leap of several degrees.
+
+The curtains partly opened, and I saw the strangest figure possible
+advancing.
+
+It was a young girl, as coffee-coloured as Amani the dancer, and of a
+perfect beauty of the purest Egyptian type. She had slanting
+almond-shaped eyes, with eyebrows so black that they appeared blue; her
+nose was finely chiseled, almost Grecian in its delicacy; she might have
+been taken for a Corinthian statue of bronze, had not her prominent
+cheekbones and rather African fullness of lips indicated without a doubt
+the hieroglyphic race which dwelt on the banks of the Nile.
+
+Her arms, thin, spindle shaped, like those of very young girls, were
+encircled with a kind of metal ornament, and bracelets of glass beads;
+her hair was twisted into little cords; on her breast hung a green paste
+idol, identified by her whip of seven lashes as Isis, guide of souls--a
+golden ornament shone on her forehead, and slight traces of rouge were
+visible on the coppery tints of her cheeks.
+
+As for her costume, it was very odd.
+
+Imagine a _pagne_ made of narrow strips bedizened with red and black
+hieroglyphics, weighted with bitumen, and apparently belonging to a
+mummy newly unswathed.
+
+In one of those flights of fancy usual in dreams, I could hear the
+hoarse, rough voice of the dealer of bric-a-brac reciting in a
+monotonous refrain, the phrase he had kept repeating in his shop in so
+enigmatic a manner.
+
+"Old Pharaoh will not be pleased--he loved his daughter very much--that
+dear man."
+
+One peculiar detail, which was hardly reassuring, was that the
+apparition had but one foot, the other was broken off at the ankle.
+
+She approached the table, where the mummy's foot was fidgeting and
+tossing about with redoubled energy. She leaned against the edge, and I
+saw her eyes fill with pearly tears.
+
+Although she did not speak, I fully understood her feelings. She looked
+at the foot, for it was in truth her own, with an expression of
+coquettish sadness, which was extremely charming; but the foot kept
+jumping and running about as though it were moved by springs of steel.
+
+Two or three times she stretched out her hand to grasp it, but did not
+succeed.
+
+Then began between the Princess Hermonthis and her foot, which seemed to
+be endowed with an individuality of its own, a very bizarre dialogue, in
+an ancient Coptic tongue, such as might have been spoken thirty
+centuries before, among the sphinxes of the Land of Ser; fortunately,
+that night I understood Coptic perfectly.
+
+The Princess Hermonthis said in a tone of voice sweet and tremulous as
+the tones of a crystal bell:
+
+"Well, my dear little foot, you always flee from me, yet I took the best
+of care of you; I bathed you with perfumed water, in a basin of
+alabaster; I rubbed your heel with pumice stone, mixed with oil of palm;
+your nails were cut with golden scissors, and polished with a
+hippopotamus' tooth; I was careful to select for you painted and
+embroidered _tatbebs_, with turned up toes, which were the envy of all
+the young girls of Egypt; on your great toe, you wore rings representing
+the sacred Scarab, and you supported one of the lightest bodies that
+could be desired by a lazy foot."
+
+The foot answered in a pouting, regretful voice:
+
+"You know well that I no longer belong to myself. I have been bought and
+paid for; the old dealer knew what he was about. He bears you a grudge
+for having refused to marry him. This is a trick he has played on you.
+The Arab who forced open your royal tomb, in the subterranean pits of
+the Necropolis of Thebes, was sent there by him. He wanted to prevent
+you from attending the reunion of the shades, in the cities of the lower
+world. Have you five pieces of gold with which to ransom me?"
+
+"Alas, no! My jewels, my rings, my purses of gold and of silver have all
+been stolen from me," answered the Princess Hermonthis with a sigh.
+
+"Princess," I then cried out, "I have never kept possession of anyone's
+foot unjustly; even though you have not the five louis which it cost me,
+I will return it to you gladly; I should be wretched, were I the cause
+of the lameness of so charming a person as the Princess Hermonthis."
+
+I delivered this discourse in a courtly, troubadour-like manner, which
+must have astonished the beautiful Egyptian.
+
+She looked at me with an expression of deepest gratitude, and her eyes
+brightened with bluish lights.
+
+She took her foot, which this time submitted, and, like a woman about to
+put on her brodekin, she adjusted it to her leg with great dexterity.
+
+This operation finished, she took a few steps about the room, as though
+to assure herself that she was in reality no longer lame.
+
+"Ah, how happy my father will be, he who was so wretched because of my
+mutilation--he who, from the day of my birth, set a whole nation to work
+to hollow out a tomb so deep that he might preserve me intact until that
+supreme last day, when souls must be weighed in the scales of Amenti!
+Come with me to my father; he will be happy to receive you, for you have
+given me back my foot."
+
+I found this proposition quite natural. I decked myself out in a
+dressing-gown of huge sprawling design, which gave me an extremely
+Pharaohesque appearance; I hurriedly put on a pair of Turkish slippers,
+and told the Princess Hermonthis that I was ready to follow her.
+
+Before setting out, Hermonthis detached from her necklace the little
+green paste image and placed it on the scattered papers which strewed
+the table.
+
+"It is no more than right," she said smilingly, "that I should replace
+your paper weight."
+
+She gave me her hand, which was soft and cool as the skin of a serpent,
+and we departed.
+
+For a time we sped with the rapidity of an arrow, through a misty
+expanse of space, in which almost indistinguishable silhouettes flashed
+by us, on the right and left.
+
+For an instant we saw nothing but sea and sky.
+
+A few minutes later, towering obelisks, pillars, the sloping outlines of
+the sphinx, were designed against the horizon.
+
+We had arrived.
+
+The princess conducted me to the side of a mountain of red granite in
+which there was an aperture so low and narrow that, had it not been
+marked by two monoliths covered with bizarre carvings, it would have
+been difficult to distinguish from the fissures in the rock.
+
+Hermonthis lighted a torch and led the way.
+
+The corridors were hewn through the living rock. The walls, with panels
+covered with hieroglyphics, and representations of allegorical
+processions, must have been the work of thousands of hands for thousands
+of years; the corridors, of an interminable length, ended in square
+rooms, in the middle of which pits had been constructed, to which we
+descended by means of _crampons_ or spiral staircases. These pits led us
+into other rooms, from which opened out other corridors embellished in
+the same bizarre manner with sparrow-hawks, serpents coiled in circles,
+the symbolic tau, pedum, and baris, prodigious works which no living eye
+should ever see, interminable legends in granite which only the dead
+throughout eternity have time to read.
+
+At last we reached a hall so vast, so boundless, so immeasurable, that
+its limits could not be discerned. As far as the eye could see, extended
+files of gigantic columns, between which sparkled livid stars of yellow
+light. These glittering points of light revealed incalculable depths
+beyond.
+
+The Princess Hermonthis, still holding my hand, greeted graciously the
+mummies of her acquaintance.
+
+My eyes gradually became accustomed to the shadowy twilight, and I began
+to distinguish the objects around me.
+
+I saw, seated upon their thrones, the kings of the subterranean races.
+They were dignified old personages, or dried up, shriveled,
+wrinkled-like parchment, and blackened with naphtha and bitumen. On
+their heads they wore pschents of gold, and their breastplates and
+gorgets scintillated with precious stones; their eyes had the fixedness
+of the sphinx, and their long beards were whitened by the snows of
+centuries. Behind them stood their embalmed subjects, in the rigid and
+constrained postures of Egyptian art, preserving eternally the attitudes
+prescribed by the hieratic code. Behind the subjects, the cats, ibixes,
+and crocodiles contemporary with them, rendered still more monstrous by
+their wrappings, mewed, beat their wings, and opened and closed their
+huge jaws in foolish grimaces.
+
+All the Pharaohs were there--Cheops, Chephrenes, Psammetichus, Sesostri,
+Amenoteph, all the dark-skinned rulers of the country of the pyramids,
+and the royal sepulchers; on a still higher platform sat enthroned the
+kings Chronos, and Xixouthros, who were contemporary with the deluge,
+and Tubal-Cain, who preceded it.
+
+The beard of King Xixouthros had grown to such lengths that it had
+already wound itself seven times around the granite table against which
+he leaned, lost in reverie, as though in slumber.
+
+Further in the distance, through a dim exhalation, across the mists of
+eternities, I beheld vaguely the seventy-two pre-Adamite kings, with
+their seventy-two peoples, vanished forever.
+
+The Princess Hermonthis, after allowing me a few moments to enjoy this
+dizzying spectacle, presented me to Pharaoh, her father, who nodded to
+me in a most majestic manner.
+
+"I have found my foot--I have found my foot!" cried the Princess,
+clapping her little hands, with every indication of uncontrollable joy.
+"It was this gentleman who returned it to me."
+
+The races of Kheme, the races of Nahasi, all the races, black, bronze,
+and copper-colored, repeated in a chorus:
+
+"The Princess Hermonthis has found her foot."
+
+Xixouthros himself was deeply affected.
+
+He raised his heavy eyelids, stroked his moustache, and regarded me with
+his glance charged with the centuries.
+
+"By Oms, the dog of Hell, and by Tmei, daughter of the Sun and of Truth,
+here is a brave and worthy young man," said Pharaoh, extending toward me
+his scepter which terminated in a lotus flower. "What recompense do you
+desire?"
+
+Eagerly, with that audacity which one has in dreams, where nothing seems
+impossible, I asked him for the hand of the Princess Hermonthis. Her
+hand in exchange for her foot, seemed to me an antithetical recompense,
+in sufficiently good taste.
+
+Pharaoh opened wide his eyes of glass, surprised at my pleasantry, as
+well as my request.
+
+"From what country are you, and what is your age?"
+
+"I am a Frenchman, and I am twenty-seven years old, venerable Pharaoh."
+
+"Twenty-seven years old! And he wishes to espouse the Princess
+Hermonthis, who is thirty centuries old!" exclaimed in a chorus all the
+thrones, and all the circles of nations.
+
+Hermonthis alone did not seem to think my request improper.
+
+"If you were even two thousand years old," continued the old king, "I
+would gladly bestow upon you the Princess; but the disproportion is too
+great; besides, our daughters must have husbands who will last, and you
+no longer know how to preserve yourselves. Of the last persons who were
+brought here, scarcely fifteen centuries ago, nothing now remains but a
+pinch of ashes. Look! my flesh is as hard as basalt, my bones are bars
+of steel. I shall be present on the last day, with the body and features
+I had in life. My daughter Hermonthis will last longer than a statue of
+bronze. But at that time the winds will have dissipated the last grains
+of your dust, and Isis herself, who knew how to recover the fragments of
+Osiris, would hardly be able to recompose your being. See how vigorous I
+still am, and how powerful is the strength of my arm," said he, shaking
+my hand in the English fashion, in a way that cut my fingers with my
+rings.
+
+His grasp was so strong that I awoke, and discovered my friend Alfred,
+who was pulling me by the arm, and shaking me, to make me get up.
+
+"Oh, see here, you maddening sleeper! Must I have you dragged into the
+middle of the street, and have fireworks put off close to your ear, in
+order to waken you? It is afternoon. Don't you remember that you
+promised to call for me and take me to see the Spanish pictures of M.
+Aguada?"
+
+"Good heavens! I forgot all about it," I answered, dressing hurriedly.
+"We can go there at once--I have the permit here on my table." I crossed
+over to get it; imagine my astonishment when I saw, not the mummy's foot
+I had bought the evening before, but the little green paste image left
+in its place by the Princess Hermonthis!
+
+
+
+
+THE RIVAL GHOSTS
+
+BY BRANDER MATTHEWS
+
+From _Tales of Fantasy and Fact_, by Brander Matthews. Copyright, 1886,
+by Harper Brothers. By permission of the publishers and Brander
+Matthews.
+
+
+
+
+The Rival Ghosts
+
+BY BRANDER MATTHEWS
+
+
+The good ship sped on her way across the calm Atlantic. It was an
+outward passage, according to the little charts which the company had
+charily distributed, but most of the passengers were homeward bound,
+after a summer of rest and recreation, and they were counting the days
+before they might hope to see Fire Island Light. On the lee side of the
+boat, comfortably sheltered from the wind, and just by the door of the
+captain's room (which was theirs during the day), sat a little group of
+returning Americans. The Duchess (she was down on the purser's list as
+Mrs. Martin, but her friends and familiars called her the Duchess of
+Washington Square) and Baby Van Rensselaer (she was quite old enough to
+vote, had her sex been entitled to that duty, but as the younger of two
+sisters she was still the baby of the family)--the Duchess and Baby Van
+Rensselaer were discussing the pleasant English voice and the not
+unpleasant English accent of a manly young lordling who was going to
+America for sport. Uncle Larry and Dear Jones were enticing each other
+into a bet on the ship's run of the morrow.
+
+"I'll give you two to one she don't make 420," said Dear Jones.
+
+"I'll take it," answered Uncle Larry. "We made 427 the fifth day last
+year." It was Uncle Larry's seventeenth visit to Europe, and this was
+therefore his thirty-fourth voyage.
+
+"And when did you get in?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer. "I don't care a
+bit about the run, so long as we get in soon."
+
+"We crossed the bar Sunday night, just seven days after we left
+Queenstown, and we dropped anchor off Quarantine at three o'clock on
+Monday morning."
+
+"I hope we sha'n't do that this time. I can't seem to sleep any when the
+boat stops."
+
+"I can, but I didn't," continued Uncle Larry, "because my stateroom was
+the most for'ard in the boat, and the donkey-engine that let down the
+anchor was right over my head."
+
+"So you got up and saw the sun rise over the bay," said Dear Jones,
+"with the electric lights of the city twinkling in the distance, and the
+first faint flush of the dawn in the east just over Fort Lafayette, and
+the rosy tinge which spread softly upward, and----"
+
+"Did you both come back together?" asked the Duchess.
+
+"Because he has crossed thirty-four times you must not suppose he has a
+monopoly in sunrises," retorted Dear Jones. "No; this was my own
+sunrise; and a mighty pretty one it was too."
+
+"I'm not matching sunrises with you," remarked Uncle Larry calmly;
+"but I'm willing to back a merry jest called forth by my sunrise against
+any two merry jests called forth by yours."
+
+"I confess reluctantly that my sunrise evoked no merry jest at all."
+Dear Jones was an honest man, and would scorn to invent a merry jest on
+the spur of the moment.
+
+"That's where my sunrise has the call," said Uncle Larry, complacently.
+
+"What was the merry jest?" was Baby Van Rensselaer's inquiry, the
+natural result of a feminine curiosity thus artistically excited.
+
+"Well, here it is. I was standing aft, near a patriotic American and a
+wandering Irishman, and the patriotic American rashly declared that you
+couldn't see a sunrise like that anywhere in Europe, and this gave the
+Irishman his chance, and he said, 'Sure ye don't have'm here till we're
+through with 'em over there.'"
+
+"It is true," said Dear Jones, thoughtfully, "that they do have some
+things over there better than we do; for instance, umbrellas."
+
+"And gowns," added the Duchess.
+
+"And antiquities."--this was Uncle Larry's contribution.
+
+"And we do have some things so much better in America!" protested Baby
+Van Rensselaer, as yet uncorrupted by any worship of the effete
+monarchies of despotic Europe. "We make lots of things a great deal
+nicer than you can get them in Europe--especially ice-cream."
+
+"And pretty girls," added Dear Jones; but he did not look at her.
+
+"And spooks," remarked Uncle Larry, casually.
+
+"Spooks?" queried the Duchess.
+
+"Spooks. I maintain the word. Ghost, if you like that better, or
+specters. We turn out the best quality of spook----"
+
+"You forget the lovely ghost stories about the Rhine and the Black
+Forest," interrupted Miss Van Rensselaer, with feminine inconsistency.
+
+"I remember the Rhine and the Black Forest and all the other haunts of
+elves and fairies and hobgoblins; but for good honest spooks there is no
+place like home. And what differentiates our spook--_spiritus
+Americanus_--from the ordinary ghost of literature is that it responds
+to the American sense of humor. Take Irving's stories, for example. The
+'Headless Horseman'--that's a comic ghost story. And Rip Van
+Winkle--consider what humor, and what good humor, there is in the
+telling of his meeting with the goblin crew of Hendrik Hudson's men! A
+still better example of this American way of dealing with legend and
+mystery is the marvelous tale of the rival ghosts."
+
+"The rival ghosts!" queried the Duchess and Baby Van Rensselaer
+together. "Who were they?"
+
+"Didn't I ever tell you about them?" answered Uncle Larry, a gleam of
+approaching joy flashing from his eye.
+
+"Since he is bound to tell us sooner or later, we'd better be resigned
+and hear it now," said Dear Jones.
+
+"If you are not more eager, I won't tell it at all."
+
+"Oh, do, Uncle Larry! you know I just dote on ghost stories," pleaded
+Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Once upon a time," began Uncle Larry--"in fact, a very few years
+ago--there lived in the thriving town of New York a young American
+called Duncan--Eliphalet Duncan. Like his name, he was half Yankee and
+half Scotch, and naturally he was a lawyer, and had come to New York to
+make his way. His father was a Scotchman who had come over and settled
+in Boston and married a Salem girl. When Eliphalet Duncan was about
+twenty he lost both of his parents. His father left him enough money to
+give him a start, and a strong feeling of pride in his Scotch birth; you
+see there was a title in the family in Scotland, and although
+Eliphalet's father was the younger son of a younger son, yet he always
+remembered, and always bade his only son to remember, that this ancestry
+was noble. His mother left him her full share of Yankee grit and a
+little old house in Salem which had belonged to her family for more than
+two hundred years. She was a Hitchcock, and the Hitchcocks had been
+settled in Salem since the year 1. It was a great-great-grandfather of
+Mr. Eliphalet Hitchcock who was foremost in the time of the Salem
+witchcraft craze. And this little old house which she left to my friend,
+Eliphalet Duncan, was haunted."
+
+"By the ghost of one of the witches, of course?" interrupted Dear Jones.
+
+"Now how could it be the ghost of a witch, since the witches were all
+burned at the stake? You never heard of anybody who was burned having a
+ghost, did you?" asked Uncle Larry.
+
+"That's an argument in favor of cremation, at any rate," replied Dear
+Jones, evading the direct question.
+
+"It is, if you don't like ghosts. I do," said Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"And so do I," added Uncle Larry. "I love a ghost as dearly as an
+Englishman loves a lord."
+
+"Go on with your story," said the Duchess, majestically overruling all
+extraneous discussion.
+
+"This little old house at Salem was haunted," resumed Uncle Larry. "And
+by a very distinguished ghost--or at least by a ghost with very
+remarkable attributes."
+
+"What was he like?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a premonitory shiver
+of anticipatory delight.
+
+"It had a lot of peculiarities. In the first place, it never appeared to
+the master of the house. Mostly it confined its visitations to unwelcome
+guests. In the course of the last hundred years it had frightened away
+four successive mothers-in-law, while never intruding on the head of the
+household."
+
+"I guess that ghost had been one of the boys when he was alive and in
+the flesh." This was Dear Jones's contribution to the telling of the
+tale.
+
+"In the second place," continued Uncle Larry, "it never frightened
+anybody the first time it appeared. Only on the second visit were the
+ghost-seers scared; but then they were scared enough for twice, and they
+rarely mustered up courage enough to risk a third interview. One of the
+most curious characteristics of this well-meaning spook was that it had
+no face--or at least that nobody ever saw its face."
+
+"Perhaps he kept his countenance veiled?" queried the Duchess, who was
+beginning to remember that she never did like ghost stories.
+
+"That was what I was never able to find out. I have asked several people
+who saw the ghost, and none of them could tell me anything about its
+face, and yet while in its presence they never noticed its features, and
+never remarked on their absence or concealment. It was only afterwards
+when they tried to recall calmly all the circumstances of meeting with
+the mysterious stranger that they became aware that they had not seen
+its face. And they could not say whether the features were covered, or
+whether they were wanting, or what the trouble was. They knew only that
+the face was never seen. And no matter how often they might see it, they
+never fathomed this mystery. To this day nobody knows whether the ghost
+which used to haunt the little old house in Salem had a face, or what
+manner of face it had."
+
+"How awfully weird!" said Baby Van Rensselaer. "And why did the ghost go
+away?"
+
+"I haven't said it went away," answered Uncle Larry, with much dignity.
+
+"But you said it _used_ to haunt the little old house at Salem, so I
+supposed it had moved. Didn't it?" the young lady asked.
+
+"You shall be told in due time. Eliphalet Duncan used to spend most of
+his summer vacations at Salem, and the ghost never bothered him at all,
+for he was the master of the house--much to his disgust, too, because he
+wanted to see for himself the mysterious tenant at will of his property.
+But he never saw it, never. He arranged with friends to call him
+whenever it might appear, and he slept in the next room with the door
+open; and yet when their frightened cries waked him the ghost was gone,
+and his only reward was to hear reproachful sighs as soon as he went
+back to bed. You see, the ghost thought it was not fair of Eliphalet to
+seek an introduction which was plainly unwelcome."
+
+Dear Jones interrupted the story-teller by getting up and tucking a
+heavy rug more snugly around Baby Van Rensselaer's feet, for the sky was
+now overcast and gray, and the air was damp and penetrating.
+
+"One fine spring morning," pursued Uncle Larry, "Eliphalet Duncan
+received great news. I told you that there was a title in the family in
+Scotland, and that Eliphalet's father was the younger son of a younger
+son. Well, it happened that all Eliphalet's father's brothers and
+uncles had died off without male issue except the eldest son of the
+eldest son, and he, of course, bore the title, and was Baron Duncan of
+Duncan. Now the great news that Eliphalet Duncan received in New York
+one fine spring morning was that Baron Duncan and his only son had been
+yachting in the Hebrides, and they had been caught in a black squall,
+and they were both dead. So my friend Eliphalet Duncan inherited the
+title and the estates."
+
+"How romantic!" said the Duchess. "So he was a baron!"
+
+"Well," answered Uncle Larry, "he was a baron if he chose. But he didn't
+choose."
+
+"More fool he!" said Dear Jones, sententiously.
+
+"Well," answered Uncle Larry, "I'm not so sure of that. You see,
+Eliphalet Duncan was half Scotch and half Yankee, and he had two eyes to
+the main chance. He held his tongue about his windfall of luck until he
+could find out whether the Scotch estates were enough to keep up the
+Scotch title. He soon discovered that they were not, and that the late
+Lord Duncan, having married money, kept up such state as he could out of
+the revenues of the dowry of Lady Duncan. And Eliphalet, he decided that
+he would rather be a well-fed lawyer in New York, living comfortably on
+his practice, than a starving lord in Scotland, living scantily on his
+title."
+
+"But he kept his title?" asked the Duchess.
+
+"Well," answered Uncle Larry, "he kept it quiet. I knew it, and a friend
+or two more. But Eliphalet was a sight too smart to put 'Baron Duncan of
+Duncan, Attorney and Counselor at Law,' on his shingle."
+
+"What has all this got to do with your ghost?" asked Dear Jones,
+pertinently.
+
+"Nothing with that ghost, but a good deal with another ghost. Eliphalet
+was very learned in spirit lore--perhaps because he owned the haunted
+house at Salem, perhaps because he was a Scotchman by descent. At all
+events, he had made a special study of the wraiths and white ladies and
+banshees and bogies of all kinds whose sayings and doings and warnings
+are recorded in the annals of the Scottish nobility. In fact, he was
+acquainted with the habits of every reputable spook in the Scotch
+peerage. And he knew that there was a Duncan ghost attached to the
+person of the holder of the title of Baron Duncan of Duncan."
+
+"So, besides being the owner of a haunted house in Salem, he was also a
+haunted man in Scotland?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Just so. But the Scotch ghost was not unpleasant, like the Salem ghost,
+although it had one peculiarity in common with its transatlantic
+fellow-spook. It never appeared to the holder of the title, just as the
+other never was visible to the owner of the house. In fact, the Duncan
+ghost was never seen at all. It was a guardian angel only. Its sole duty
+was to be in personal attendance on Baron Duncan of Duncan, and to warn
+him of impending evil. The traditions of the house told that the Barons
+of Duncan had again and again felt a premonition of ill fortune. Some of
+them had yielded and withdrawn from the venture they had undertaken, and
+it had failed dismally. Some had been obstinate, and had hardened their
+hearts, and had gone on reckless to defeat and to death. In no case had
+a Lord Duncan been exposed to peril without fair warning."
+
+"Then how came it that the father and son were lost in the yacht off the
+Hebrides?" asked Dear Jones.
+
+"Because they were too enlightened to yield to superstition. There is
+extant now a letter of Lord Duncan, written to his wife a few minutes
+before he and his son set sail, in which he tells her how hard he has
+had to struggle with an almost overmastering desire to give up the trip.
+Had he obeyed the friendly warning of the family ghost, the letter would
+have been spared a journey across the Atlantic."
+
+"Did the ghost leave Scotland for America as soon as the old baron
+died?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with much interest.
+
+"How did he come over," queried Dear Jones--"in the steerage, or as a
+cabin passenger?"
+
+"I don't know," answered Uncle Larry, calmly, "and Eliphalet didn't
+know. For as he was in no danger, and stood in no need of warning, he
+couldn't tell whether the ghost was on duty or not. Of course he was on
+the watch for it all the time. But he never got any proof of its
+presence until he went down to the little old house of Salem, just
+before the Fourth of July. He took a friend down with him--a young
+fellow who had been in the regular army since the day Fort Sumter was
+fired on, and who thought that after four years of the little
+unpleasantness down South, including six months in Libby, and after ten
+years of fighting the bad Indians on the plains, he wasn't likely to be
+much frightened by a ghost. Well, Eliphalet and the officer sat out on
+the porch all the evening smoking and talking over points in military
+law. A little after twelve o'clock, just as they began to think it was
+about time to turn in, they heard the most ghastly noise in the house.
+It wasn't a shriek, or a howl, or a yell, or anything they could put a
+name to. It was an undeterminate, inexplicable shiver and shudder of
+sound, which went wailing out of the window. The officer had been at
+Cold Harbor, but he felt himself getting colder this time. Eliphalet
+knew it was the ghost who haunted the house. As this weird sound died
+away, it was followed by another, sharp, short, blood-curdling in its
+intensity. Something in this cry seemed familiar to Eliphalet, and he
+felt sure that it proceeded from the family ghost, the warning wraith of
+the Duncans."
+
+"Do I understand you to intimate that both ghosts were there together?"
+inquired the Duchess, anxiously.
+
+"Both of them were there," answered Uncle Larry. "You see, one of them
+belonged to the house, and had to be there all the time, and the other
+was attached to the person of Baron Duncan, and had to follow him there;
+wherever he was, there was that ghost also. But Eliphalet, he had
+scarcely time to think this out when he heard both sounds again, not one
+after another, but both together, and something told him--some sort of
+an instinct he had--that those two ghosts didn't agree, didn't get on
+together, didn't exactly hit it off; in fact, that they were
+quarreling."
+
+"Quarreling ghosts! Well, I never!" was Baby Van Rensselaer's remark.
+
+"It is a blessed thing to see ghosts dwell together in unity," said Dear
+Jones.
+
+And the Duchess added, "It would certainly be setting a better example."
+
+"You know," resumed Uncle Larry, "that two waves of light or of sound
+may interfere and produce darkness or silence. So it was with these
+rival spooks. They interfered, but they did not produce silence or
+darkness. On the contrary, as soon as Eliphalet and the officer went
+into the house, there began at once a series of spiritualistic
+manifestations--a regular dark seance. A tambourine was played upon, a
+bell was rung, and a flaming banjo went singing around the room."
+
+"Where did they get the banjo?" asked Dear Jones, sceptically.
+
+"I don't know. Materialized it, maybe, just as they did the tambourine.
+You don't suppose a quiet New York lawyer kept a stock of musical
+instruments large enough to fit out a strolling minstrel troupe just on
+the chance of a pair of ghosts coming to give him a surprise party, do
+you? Every spook has its own instrument of torture. Angels play on
+harps, I'm informed, and spirits delight in banjos and tambourines.
+These spooks of Eliphalet Duncan's were ghosts with all modern
+improvements, and I guess they were capable of providing their own
+musical weapons. At all events, they had them there in the little old
+house at Salem the night Eliphalet and his friend came down. And they
+played on them, and they rang the bell, and they rapped here, there, and
+everywhere. And they kept it up all night."
+
+"All night?" asked the awe-stricken Duchess.
+
+"All night long," said Uncle Larry, solemnly; "and the next night too.
+Eliphalet did not get a wink of sleep, neither did his friend. On the
+second night the house ghost was seen by the officer; on the third night
+it showed itself again; and the next morning the officer packed his
+gripsack and took the first train to Boston. He was a New Yorker, but he
+said he'd sooner go to Boston than see that ghost again. Eliphalet
+wasn't scared at all, partly because he never saw either the domiciliary
+or the titular spook, and partly because he felt himself on friendly
+terms with the spirit world, and didn't scare easily. But after losing
+three nights' sleep and the society of his friend, he began to be a
+little impatient, and to think that the thing had gone far enough. You
+see, while in a way he was fond of ghosts, yet he liked them best one at
+a time. Two ghosts were one too many. He wasn't bent on making a
+collection of spooks. He and one ghost were company, but he and two
+ghosts were a crowd."
+
+"What did he do?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Well he couldn't do anything. He waited awhile, hoping they would get
+tired; but he got tired out first. You see, it comes natural to a spook
+to sleep in the daytime, but a man wants to sleep nights, and they
+wouldn't let him sleep nights. They kept on wrangling and quarreling
+incessantly; they manifested and they dark-seanced as regularly as the
+old clock on the stairs struck twelve; they rapped and they rang bells
+and they banged the tambourine and they threw the flaming banjo about
+the house, and, worse than all, they swore."
+
+"I did not know that spirits were addicted to bad language," said the
+Duchess.
+
+"How did he know they were swearing? Could he hear them?" asked Dear
+Jones.
+
+"That was just it," responded Uncle Larry; "he could not hear them--at
+least, not distinctly. There were inarticulate murmurs and stifled
+rumblings. But the impression produced on him was that they were
+swearing. If they had only sworn right out, he would not have minded it
+so much, because he would have known the worst. But the feeling that the
+air was full of suppressed profanity was very wearing, and after
+standing it for a week he gave up in disgust and went to the White
+Mountains."
+
+"Leaving them to fight it out, I suppose," interjected Baby Van
+Rensselaer.
+
+"Not at all," explained Uncle Larry. "They could not quarrel unless he
+was present. You see, he could not leave the titular ghost behind him,
+and the domiciliary ghost could not leave the house. When he went away
+he took the family ghost with him, leaving the house ghost behind. Now
+spooks can't quarrel when they are a hundred miles apart any more than
+men can."
+
+"And what happened afterwards?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a pretty
+impatience.
+
+"A most marvelous thing happened. Eliphalet Duncan went to the White
+Mountains, and in the car of the railroad that runs to the top of Mount
+Washington he met a classmate whom he had not seen for years, and this
+classmate introduced Duncan to his sister, and this sister was a
+remarkably pretty girl, and Duncan fell in love with her at first sight,
+and by the time he got to the top of Mount Washington he was so deep in
+love that he began to consider his own unworthiness, and to wonder
+whether she might ever be induced to care for him a little--ever so
+little."
+
+"I don't think that is so marvelous a thing," said Dear Jones, glancing
+at Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Who was she?" asked the Duchess, who had once lived in Philadelphia.
+
+"She was Miss Kitty Sutton, of San Francisco, and she was a daughter of
+old Judge Sutton, of the firm of Pixley & Sutton."
+
+"A very respectable family," assented the Duchess.
+
+"I hope she wasn't a daughter of that loud and vulgar old Mrs. Sutton
+whom I met at Saratoga one summer four or five years ago?" said Dear
+Jones.
+
+"Probably she was," Uncle Larry responded.
+
+"She was a horrid old woman. The boys used to call her Mother Gorgon."
+
+"The pretty Kitty Sutton with whom Eliphalet Duncan had fallen in love
+was the daughter of Mother Gorgon. But he never saw the mother, who was
+in Frisco, or Los Angeles, or Santa Fe, or somewhere out West, and he
+saw a great deal of the daughter, who was up in the White Mountains. She
+was traveling with her brother and his wife, and as they journeyed from
+hotel to hotel Duncan went with them, and filled out the quartette.
+Before the end of the summer he began to think about proposing. Of
+course he had lots of chances, going on excursions as they were every
+day. He made up his mind to seize the first opportunity, and that very
+evening he took her out for a moonlight row on Lake Winipiseogee. As he
+handed her into the boat he resolved to do it, and he had a glimmer of
+suspicion that she knew he was going to do it, too."
+
+"Girls," said Dear Jones, "never go out in a rowboat at night with a
+young man unless you mean to accept him."
+
+"Sometimes it's best to refuse him, and get it over once for all," said
+Baby Van Rensselaer, impersonally.
+
+"As Eliphalet took the oars he felt a sudden chill. He tried to shake it
+off, but in vain. He began to have a growing consciousness of impending
+evil. Before he had taken ten strokes--and he was a swift oarsman--he
+was aware of a mysterious presence between him and Miss Sutton."
+
+"Was it the guardian-angel ghost warning him off the match?" interrupted
+Dear Jones.
+
+"That's just what it was," said Uncle Larry. "And he yielded to it, and
+kept his peace, and rowed Miss Sutton back to the hotel with his
+proposal unspoken."
+
+"More fool he," said Dear Jones. "It will take more than one ghost to
+keep me from proposing when my mind is made up." And he looked at Baby
+Van Rensselaer.
+
+"The next morning," continued Uncle Larry, "Eliphalet overslept himself,
+and when he went down to a late breakfast he found that the Suttons had
+gone to New York by the morning train. He wanted to follow them at once,
+and again he felt the mysterious presence overpowering his will. He
+struggled two days, and at last he roused himself to do what he wanted
+in spite of the spook. When he arrived in New York it was late in the
+evening. He dressed himself hastily, and went to the hotel where the
+Suttons were, in the hope of seeing at least her brother. The guardian
+angel fought every inch of the walk with him, until he began to wonder
+whether, if Miss Sutton were to take him, the spook would forbid the
+banns. At the hotel he saw no one that night, and he went home
+determined to call as early as he could the next afternoon, and make an
+end of it. When he left his office about two o'clock the next day to
+learn his fate, he had not walked five blocks before he discovered that
+the wraith of the Duncans had withdrawn his opposition to the suit.
+There was no feeling of impending evil, no resistance, no struggle, no
+consciousness of an opposing presence. Eliphalet was greatly encouraged.
+He walked briskly to the hotel; he found Miss Sutton alone. He asked her
+the question, and got his answer."
+
+"She accepted him, of course?" said Baby Van Rensselaer.
+
+"Of course," said Uncle Larry. "And while they were in the first flush
+of joy, swapping confidences and confessions, her brother came into the
+parlor with an expression of pain on his face and a telegram in his
+hand. The former was caused by the latter, which was from Frisco, and
+which announced the sudden death of Mrs. Sutton, their mother."
+
+"And that was why the ghost no longer opposed the match?" questioned
+Dear Jones.
+
+"Exactly. You see, the family ghost knew that Mother Gorgon was an awful
+obstacle to Duncan's happiness, so it warned him. But the moment the
+obstacle was removed, it gave its consent at once."
+
+The fog was lowering its thick, damp curtain, and it was beginning to be
+difficult to see from one end of the boat to the other. Dear Jones
+tightened the rug which enwrapped Baby Van Rensselaer, and then withdrew
+again into his own substantial coverings.
+
+Uncle Larry paused in his story long enough to light another of the tiny
+cigars he always smoked.
+
+"I infer that Lord Duncan"--the Duchess was scrupulous in the bestowal
+of titles--"saw no more of the ghosts after he was married."
+
+"He never saw them at all, at any time, either before or since. But they
+came very near breaking off the match, and thus breaking two young
+hearts."
+
+"You don't mean to say that they knew any just cause or impediment why
+they should not forever after hold their peace?" asked Dear Jones.
+
+"How could a ghost, or even two ghosts, keep a girl from marrying the
+man she loved?" This was Baby Van Rensselaer's question.
+
+"It seems curious, doesn't it?" and Uncle Larry tried to warm himself by
+two or three sharp pulls at his fiery little cigar. "And the
+circumstances are quite as curious as the fact itself. You see, Miss
+Sutton wouldn't be married for a year after her mother's death, so she
+and Duncan had lots of time to tell each other all they knew. Eliphalet
+got to know a good deal about the girls she went to school with; and
+Kitty soon learned all about his family. He didn't tell her about the
+title for a long time, as he wasn't one to brag. But he described to
+her the little old house at Salem. And one evening towards the end of
+the summer, the wedding-day having been appointed for early in
+September, she told him that she didn't want a bridal tour at all; she
+just wanted to go down to the little old house at Salem to spend her
+honeymoon in peace and quiet, with nothing to do and nobody to bother
+them. Well, Eliphalet jumped at the suggestion: it suited him down to
+the ground. All of a sudden he remembered the spooks, and it knocked him
+all of a heap. He had told her about the Duncan banshee, and the idea of
+having an ancestral ghost in personal attendance on her husband tickled
+her immensely. But he had never said anything about the ghost which
+haunted the little old house at Salem. He knew she would be frightened
+out of her wits if the house ghost revealed itself to her, and he saw at
+once that it would be impossible to go to Salem on their wedding trip.
+So he told her all about it, and how whenever he went to Salem the two
+ghosts interfered, and gave dark seances and manifested and materialized
+and made the place absolutely impossible. Kitty listened in silence, and
+Eliphalet thought she had changed her mind. But she hadn't done anything
+of the kind."
+
+"Just like a man--to think she was going to," remarked Baby Van
+Rensselaer.
+
+"She just told him she could not bear ghosts herself, but she would not
+marry a man who was afraid of them."
+
+"Just like a girl--to be so inconsistent," remarked Dear Jones.
+
+Uncle Larry's tiny cigar had long been extinct. He lighted a new one,
+and continued: "Eliphalet protested in vain. Kitty said her mind was
+made up. She was determined to pass her honeymoon in the little old
+house at Salem, and she was equally determined not to go there as long
+as there were any ghosts there. Until he could assure her that the
+spectral tenant had received notice to quit, and that there was no
+danger of manifestations and materializing, she refused to be married at
+all. She did not intend to have her honeymoon interrupted by two
+wrangling ghosts, and the wedding could be postponed until he had made
+ready the house for her."
+
+"She was an unreasonable young woman," said the Duchess.
+
+"Well, that's what Eliphalet thought, much as he was in love with her.
+And he believed he could talk her out of her determination. But he
+couldn't. She was set. And when a girl is set, there's nothing to do but
+to yield to the inevitable. And that's just what Eliphalet did. He saw
+he would either have to give her up or to get the ghosts out; and as he
+loved her and did not care for the ghosts, he resolved to tackle the
+ghosts. He had clear grit, Eliphalet had--he was half Scotch and half
+Yankee and neither breed turns tail in a hurry. So he made his plans and
+he went down to Salem. As he said good-by to Kitty he had an impression
+that she was sorry she had made him go; but she kept up bravely, and
+put a bold face on it, and saw him off, and went home and cried for an
+hour, and was perfectly miserable until he came back the next day."
+
+"Did he succeed in driving the ghosts away?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer,
+with great interest.
+
+"That's just what I'm coming to," said Uncle Larry, pausing at the
+critical moment, in the manner of the trained story-teller. "You see,
+Eliphalet had got a rather tough job, and he would gladly have had an
+extension of time on the contract, but he had to choose between the girl
+and the ghosts, and he wanted the girl. He tried to invent or remember
+some short and easy way with ghosts, but he couldn't. He wished that
+somebody had invented a specific for spooks--something that would make
+the ghosts come out of the house and die in the yard. He wondered if he
+could not tempt the ghosts to run in debt, so that he might get the
+sheriff to help him. He wondered also whether the ghosts could not be
+overcome with strong drink--a dissipated spook, a spook with delirium
+tremens, might be committed to the inebriate asylum. But none of these
+things seemed feasible."
+
+"What did he do?" interrupted Dear Jones. "The learned counsel will
+please speak to the point."
+
+"You will regret this unseemly haste," said Uncle Larry, gravely, "when
+you know what really happened."
+
+"What was it, Uncle Larry?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer. "I'm all
+impatience."
+
+And Uncle Larry proceeded:
+
+"Eliphalet went down to the little old house at Salem, and as soon as
+the clock struck twelve the rival ghosts began wrangling as before. Raps
+here, there, and everywhere, ringing bells, banging tambourines,
+strumming banjos sailing about the room, and all the other
+manifestations and materializations followed one another just as they
+had the summer before. The only difference Eliphalet could detect was a
+stronger flavor in the spectral profanity; and this, of course, was only
+a vague impression, for he did not actually hear a single word. He
+waited awhile in patience, listening and watching. Of course he never
+saw either of the ghosts, because neither of them could appear to him.
+At last he got his dander up, and he thought it was about time to
+interfere, so he rapped on the table, and asked for silence. As soon as
+he felt that the spooks were listening to him he explained the situation
+to them. He told them he was in love, and that he could not marry unless
+they vacated the house. He appealed to them as old friends, and he laid
+claim to their gratitude. The titular ghost had been sheltered by the
+Duncan family for hundreds of years, and the domiciliary ghost had had
+free lodging in the little old house at Salem for nearly two centuries.
+He implored them to settle their differences, and to get him out of his
+difficulty at once. He suggested that they had better fight it out then
+and there, and see who was master. He had brought down with him all
+needful weapons. And he pulled out his valise, and spread on the table a
+pair of navy revolvers, a pair of shotguns, a pair of dueling-swords,
+and a couple of bowie knives. He offered to serve as second for both
+parties, and to give the word when to begin. He also took out of his
+valise a pack of cards and a bottle of poison, telling them that if they
+wished to avoid carnage they might cut the cards to see which one should
+take the poison. Then he waited anxiously for their reply. For a little
+space there was silence. Then he became conscious of a tremulous
+shivering in one corner of the room, and he remembered that he had heard
+from that direction what sounded like a frightened sigh when he made the
+first suggestion of the duel. Something told him that this was the
+domiciliary ghost, and that it was badly scared. Then he was impressed
+by a certain movement in the opposite corner of the room, as though the
+titular ghost were drawing himself up with offended dignity. Eliphalet
+couldn't exactly see those things, because he never saw the ghosts, but
+he felt them. After a silence of nearly a minute a voice came from the
+corner where the family ghost stood--a voice strong and full, but
+trembling slightly with suppressed passion. And this voice told
+Eliphalet it was plain enough that he had not long been the head of the
+Duncans, and that he had never properly considered the characteristics
+of his race if now he supposed that one of his blood could draw his
+sword against a woman. Eliphalet said he had never suggested that the
+Duncan ghost should raise his hand against a woman, and all he wanted
+was that the Duncan ghost should fight the other ghost. And then the
+voice told Eliphalet that the other ghost was a woman."
+
+"What?" said Dear Jones, sitting up suddenly. "You don't mean to tell me
+that the ghost which haunted the house was a woman?"
+
+"Those were the very words Eliphalet Duncan used," said Uncle Larry;
+"but he did not need to wait for the answer. All at once he recalled the
+traditions about the domiciliary ghost, and he knew that what the
+titular ghost said was the fact. He had never thought of the sex of a
+spook, but there was no doubt whatever that the house ghost was a woman.
+No sooner was this firmly fixed in Eliphalet's mind than he saw his way
+out of the difficulty. The ghosts must be married!--for then there would
+be no more interference, no more quarreling, no more manifestations and
+materializations, no more dark seances, with their raps and bells and
+tambourines and banjos. At first the ghosts would not hear of it. The
+voice in the corner declared that the Duncan wraith had never thought of
+matrimony. But Eliphalet argued with them, and pleaded and pursuaded and
+coaxed, and dwelt on the advantages of matrimony. He had to confess, of
+course, that he did not know how to get a clergyman to marry them; but
+the voice from the corner gravely told him that there need be no
+difficulty in regard to that, as there was no lack of spiritual
+chaplains. Then, for the first time, the house ghost spoke, a low,
+clear, gentle voice, and with a quaint, old-fashioned New England
+accent, which contrasted sharply with the broad Scotch speech of the
+family ghost. She said that Eliphalet Duncan seemed to have forgotten
+that she was married. But this did not upset Eliphalet at all; he
+remembered the whole case clearly, and he told her she was not a married
+ghost, but a widow, since her husband had been hanged for murdering her.
+Then the Duncan ghost drew attention to the great disparity in their
+ages, saying that he was nearly four hundred and fifty years old, while
+she was barely two hundred. But Eliphalet had not talked to juries for
+nothing; he just buckled to, and coaxed those ghosts into matrimony.
+Afterwards he came to the conclusion that they were willing to be
+coaxed, but at the time he thought he had pretty hard work to convince
+them of the advantages of the plan."
+
+"Did he succeed?" asked Baby Van Rensselaer, with a woman's interest in
+matrimony.
+
+"He did," said Uncle Larry. "He talked the wraith of the Duncans and the
+specter of the little old house at Salem into a matrimonial engagement.
+And from the time they were engaged he had no more trouble with them.
+They were rival ghosts no longer. They were married by their spiritual
+chaplain the very same day that Eliphalet Duncan met Kitty Sutton in
+front of the railing of Grace Church. The ghostly bride and bridegroom
+went away at once on their bridal tour, and Lord and Lady Duncan went
+down to the little old house at Salem to pass their honeymoon."
+
+Uncle Larry stopped. His tiny cigar was out again. The tale of the rival
+ghosts was told. A solemn silence fell on the little party on the deck
+of the ocean steamer, broken harshly by the hoarse roar of the
+fog-horn.
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER GHOST OF HARROWBY HALL
+
+BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+From _The Water Ghost, and other Stories_, by John Kendrick Bangs.
+Copyright, 1904, by Harper Brothers. By permission of the publishers and
+John Kendrick Bangs.
+
+
+
+
+The Water Ghost of Harrowby Hall
+
+BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+
+The trouble with Harrowby Hall was that it was haunted, and, what was
+worse, the ghost did not content itself with merely appearing at the
+bedside of the afflicted person who saw it, but persisted in remaining
+there for one mortal hour before it would disappear.
+
+It never appeared except on Christmas Eve, and then as the clock was
+striking twelve, in which respect alone was it lacking in that
+originality which in these days is a _sine qua non_ of success in
+spectral life. The owners of Harrowby Hall had done their utmost to rid
+themselves of the damp and dewy lady who rose up out of the best bedroom
+floor at midnight, but without avail. They had tried stopping the clock,
+so that the ghost would not know when it was midnight; but she made her
+appearance just the same, with that fearful miasmatic personality of
+hers, and there she would stand until everything about her was
+thoroughly saturated.
+
+Then the owners of Harrowby Hall caulked up every crack in the floor
+with the very best quality of hemp, and over this were placed layers of
+tar and canvas; the walls were made waterproof, and the doors and
+windows likewise, the proprietors having conceived the notion that the
+unexorcised lady would find it difficult to leak into the room after
+these precautions had been taken; but even this did not suffice. The
+following Christmas Eve she appeared as promptly as before, and
+frightened the occupant of the room quite out of his senses by sitting
+down alongside of him and gazing with her cavernous blue eyes into his;
+and he noticed, too, that in her long, aqueously bony fingers bits of
+dripping seaweed were entwined, the ends hanging down, and these ends
+she drew across his forehead until he became like one insane. And then
+he swooned away, and was found unconscious in his bed the next morning
+by his host, simply saturated with sea-water and fright, from the
+combined effects of which he never recovered, dying four years later of
+pneumonia and nervous prostration at the age of seventy-eight.
+
+The next year the master of Harrowby Hall decided not to have the best
+spare bedroom opened at all, thinking that perhaps the ghost's thirst
+for making herself disagreeable would be satisfied by haunting the
+furniture, but the plan was as unavailing as the many that had preceded
+it.
+
+The ghost appeared as usual in the room--that is, it was supposed she
+did, for the hangings were dripping wet the next morning, and in the
+parlor below the haunted room a great damp spot appeared on the
+ceiling. Finding no one there, she immediately set out to learn the
+reason why, and she chose none other to haunt than the owner of the
+Harrowby himself. She found him in his own cosey room drinking
+whiskey--whiskey undiluted--and felicitating himself upon having foiled
+her ghost-ship, when all of a sudden the curl went out of his hair, his
+whiskey bottle filled and overflowed, and he was himself in a condition
+similar to that of a man who has fallen into a water-butt. When he
+recovered from the shock, which was a painful one, he saw before him the
+lady of the cavernous eyes and seaweed fingers. The sight was so
+unexpected and so terrifying that he fainted, but immediately came to,
+because of the vast amount of water in his hair, which, trickling down
+over his face, restored his consciousness.
+
+Now it so happened that the master of Harrowby was a brave man, and
+while he was not particularly fond of interviewing ghosts, especially
+such quenching ghosts as the one before him, he was not to be daunted by
+an apparition. He had paid the lady the compliment of fainting from the
+effects of his first surprise, and now that he had come to he intended
+to find out a few things he felt he had a right to know. He would have
+liked to put on a dry suit of clothes first, but the apparition declined
+to leave him for an instant until her hour was up, and he was forced to
+deny himself that pleasure. Every time he would move she would follow
+him, with the result that everything she came in contact with got a
+ducking. In an effort to warm himself up he approached the fire, an
+unfortunate move as it turned out, because it brought the ghost directly
+over the fire, which immediately was extinguished. The whiskey became
+utterly valueless as a comforter to his chilled system, because it was
+by this time diluted to a proportion of ninety per cent of water. The
+only thing he could do to ward off the evil effects of his encounter he
+did, and that was to swallow ten two-grain quinine pills, which he
+managed to put into his mouth before the ghost had time to interfere.
+Having done this, he turned with some asperity to the ghost, and said:
+
+"Far be it from me to be impolite to a woman, madam, but I'm hanged if
+it wouldn't please me better if you'd stop these infernal visits of
+yours to this house. Go sit out on the lake, if you like that sort of
+thing; soak the water-butt, if you wish; but do not, I implore you, come
+into a gentleman's house and saturate him and his possessions in this
+way. It is damned disagreeable."
+
+"Henry Hartwick Oglethorpe," said the ghost, in a gurgling voice, "you
+don't know what you are talking about."
+
+"Madam," returned the unhappy householder, "I wish that remark were
+strictly truthful. I was talking about you. It would be shillings and
+pence--nay, pounds, in my pocket, madam, if I did not know you."
+
+"That is a bit of specious nonsense," returned the ghost, throwing a
+quart of indignation into the face of the master of Harrowby. "It may
+rank high as repartee, but as a comment upon my statement that you do
+not know what you are talking about, it savors of irrelevant
+impertinence. You do not know that I am compelled to haunt this place
+year after year by inexorable fate. It is no pleasure to me to enter
+this house, and ruin and mildew everything I touch. I never aspired to
+be a shower-bath, but it is my doom. Do you know who I am?"
+
+"No, I don't," returned the master of Harrowby. "I should say you were
+the Lady of the Lake, or Little Sallie Waters."
+
+"You are a witty man for your years," said the ghost.
+
+"Well, my humor is drier than yours ever will be," returned the master.
+
+"No doubt. I'm never dry. I am the Water Ghost of Harrowby Hall, and
+dryness is a quality entirely beyond my wildest hope. I have been the
+incumbent of this highly unpleasant office for two hundred years
+to-night."
+
+"How the deuce did you ever come to get elected?" asked the master.
+
+"Through a suicide," replied the specter. "I am the ghost of that fair
+maiden whose picture hangs over the mantelpiece in the drawing-room. I
+should have been your great-great-great-great-great-aunt if I had lived,
+Henry Hartwick Oglethorpe, for I was the own sister of your
+great-great-great-great-grandfather."
+
+"But what induced you to get this house into such a predicament?"
+
+"I was not to blame, sir," returned the lady. "It was my father's fault.
+He it was who built Harrowby Hall, and the haunted chamber was to have
+been mine. My father had it furnished in pink and yellow, knowing well
+that blue and gray formed the only combination of color I could
+tolerate. He did it merely to spite me, and, with what I deem a proper
+spirit, I declined to live in the room; whereupon my father said I could
+live there or on the lawn, he didn't care which. That night I ran from
+the house and jumped over the cliff into the sea."
+
+"That was rash," said the master of Harrowby.
+
+"So I've heard," returned the ghost. "If I had known what the
+consequences were to be I should not have jumped; but I really never
+realized what I was doing until after I was drowned. I had been drowned
+a week when a sea-nymph came to me and informed me that I was to be one
+of her followers forever afterwards, adding that it should be my doom to
+haunt Harrowby Hall for one hour every Christmas Eve throughout the rest
+of eternity. I was to haunt that room on such Christmas Eves as I found
+it inhabited; and if it should turn out not to be inhabited, I was and
+am to spend the allotted hour with the head of the house."
+
+"I'll sell the place."
+
+"That you cannot do, for it is also required of me that I shall appear
+as the deeds are to be delivered to any purchaser, and divulge to him
+the awful secret of the house."
+
+"Do you mean to tell me that on every Christmas Eve that I don't happen
+to have somebody in that guest-chamber, you are going to haunt me
+wherever I may be, ruining my whiskey, taking all the curl out of my
+hair, extinguishing my fire, and soaking me through to the skin?"
+demanded the master.
+
+"You have stated the case, Oglethorpe. And what is more," said the water
+ghost, "it doesn't make the slightest difference where you are, if I
+find that room empty, wherever you may be I shall douse you with my
+spectral pres----"
+
+Here the clock struck one, and immediately the apparition faded away. It
+was perhaps more of a trickle than a fade, but as a disappearance it was
+complete.
+
+"By St. George and his Dragon!" ejaculated the master of Harrowby,
+wringing his hands. "It is guineas to hot-cross buns that next Christmas
+there's an occupant of the spare room, or I spend the night in a
+bathtub."
+
+But the master of Harrowby would have lost his wager had there been
+anyone there to take him up, for when Christmas Eve came again he was in
+his grave, never having recovered from the cold contracted that awful
+night. Harrowby Hall was closed, and the heir to the estate was in
+London, where to him in his chambers came the same experience that his
+father had gone through, saving only that, being younger and stronger,
+he survived the shock. Everything in his rooms was ruined--his clocks
+were rusted in the works; a fine collection of water-color drawings was
+entirely obliterated by the onslaught of the water ghost; and what was
+worse, the apartments below his were drenched with the water soaking
+through the floors, a damage for which he was compelled to pay, and
+which resulted in his being requested by his landlady to vacate the
+premises immediately.
+
+The story of the visitation inflicted upon his family had gone abroad,
+and no one could be got to invite him out to any function save afternoon
+teas and receptions. Fathers of daughters declined to permit him to
+remain in their houses later than eight o'clock at night, not knowing
+but that some emergency might arise in the supernatural world which
+would require the unexpected appearance of the water ghost in this on
+nights other than Christmas Eve, and before the mystic hour when weary
+churchyards, ignoring the rules which are supposed to govern polite
+society, begin to yawn. Nor would the maids themselves have aught to do
+with him, fearing the destruction by the sudden incursion of aqueous
+femininity of the costumes which they held most dear.
+
+So the heir of Harrowby Hall resolved, as his ancestors for several
+generations before him had resolved, that something must be done. His
+first thought was to make one of his servants occupy the haunted room at
+the crucial moment; but in this he failed, because the servants
+themselves knew the history of that room and rebelled. None of his
+friends would consent to sacrifice their personal comfort to his, nor
+was there to be found in all England a man so poor as to be willing to
+occupy the doomed chamber on Christmas Eve for pay.
+
+Then the thought came to the heir to have the fireplace in the room
+enlarged, so that he might evaporate the ghost at its first appearance,
+and he was felicitating himself upon the ingenuity of his plan, when he
+remembered what his father had told him--how that no fire could
+withstand the lady's extremely contagious dampness. And then he
+bethought him of steam-pipes. These, he remembered, could lie hundreds
+of feet deep in water, and still retain sufficient heat to drive the
+water away in vapor; and as a result of this thought the haunted room
+was heated by steam to a withering degree, and the heir for six months
+attended daily the Turkish baths, so that when Christmas Eve came he
+could himself withstand the awful temperature of the room.
+
+The scheme was only partially successful. The water ghost appeared at
+the specified time, and found the heir of Harrowby prepared; but hot as
+the room was, it shortened her visit by no more than five minutes in the
+hour, during which time the nervous system of the young master was
+well-nigh shattered, and the room itself was cracked and warped to an
+extent which required the outlay of a large sum of money to remedy. And
+worse than this, as the last drop of the water ghost was slowly
+sizzling itself out on the floor, she whispered to her would-be
+conqueror that his scheme would avail him nothing, because there was
+still water in great plenty where she came from, and that next year
+would find her rehabilitated and as exasperatingly saturating as ever.
+
+It was then that the natural action of the mind, in going from one
+extreme to the other, suggested to the ingenious heir of Harrowby the
+means by which the water ghost was ultimately conquered, and happiness
+once more came within the grasp of the house of Oglethorpe.
+
+The heir provided himself with a warm suit of fur under-clothing.
+Donning this with the furry side in, he placed over it a rubber garment,
+tight-fitting, which he wore just as a woman wears a jersey. On top of
+this he placed another set of under-clothing, this suit made of wool,
+and over this was a second rubber garment like the first. Upon his head
+he placed a light and comfortable diving helmet, and so clad, on the
+following Christmas Eve he awaited the coming of his tormentor.
+
+It was a bitterly cold night that brought to a close this twenty-fourth
+day of December. The air outside was still, but the temperature was
+below zero. Within all was quiet, the servants of Harrowby Hall awaiting
+with beating hearts the outcome of their master's campaign against his
+supernatural visitor.
+
+The master himself was lying on the bed in the haunted room, clad as
+has already been indicated, and then----
+
+The clock clanged out the hour of twelve.
+
+There was a sudden banging of doors, a blast of cold air swept through
+the halls, the door leading into the haunted chamber flew open, a splash
+was heard, and the water ghost was seen standing at the side of the heir
+of Harrowby, from whose outer dress there streamed rivulets of water,
+but whose own person deep down under the various garments he wore was as
+dry and as warm as he could have wished.
+
+"Ha!" said the young master of Harrowby. "I'm glad to see you."
+
+"You are the most original man I've met, if that is true," returned the
+ghost. "May I ask where did you get that hat?"
+
+"Certainly, madam," returned the master, courteously. "It is a little
+portable observatory I had made for just such emergencies as this. But,
+tell me, is it true that you are doomed to follow me about for one
+mortal hour--to stand where I stand, to sit where I sit?"
+
+"That is my delectable fate," returned the lady.
+
+"We'll go out on the lake," said the master, starting up.
+
+"You can't get rid of me that way," returned the ghost. "The water won't
+swallow me up; in fact, it will just add to my present bulk."
+
+"Nevertheless," said the master, firmly, "we will go out on the lake."
+
+"But, my dear sir," returned the ghost, with a pale reluctance, "it is
+fearfully cold out there. You will be frozen hard before you've been out
+ten minutes."
+
+"Oh no, I'll not," replied the master. "I am very warmly dressed. Come!"
+This last in a tone of command that made the ghost ripple.
+
+And they started.
+
+They had not gone far before the water ghost showed signs of distress.
+
+"You walk too slowly," she said. "I am nearly frozen. My knees are so
+stiff now I can hardly move. I beseech you to accelerate your step."
+
+"I should like to oblige a lady," returned the master, courteously, "but
+my clothes are rather heavy, and a hundred yards an hour is about my
+speed. Indeed, I think we would better sit down here on this snowdrift,
+and talk matters over."
+
+"Do not! Do not do so, I beg!" cried the ghost. "Let me move on. I feel
+myself growing rigid as it is. If we stop here, I shall be frozen
+stiff."
+
+"That, madam," said the master slowly, and seating himself on an
+ice-cake--"that is why I have brought you here. We have been on this
+spot just ten minutes; we have fifty more. Take your time about it,
+madam, but freeze, that is all I ask of you."
+
+"I cannot move my right leg now," cried the ghost, in despair, "and my
+overskirt is a solid sheet of ice. Oh, good, kind Mr. Oglethorpe, light
+a fire, and let me go free from these icy fetters."
+
+"Never, madam. It cannot be. I have you at last."
+
+"Alas!" cried the ghost, a tear trickling down her frozen cheek. "Help
+me, I beg. I congeal!"
+
+"Congeal, madam, congeal!" returned Oglethorpe, coldly. "You have
+drenched me and mine for two hundred and three years, madam. To-night
+you have had your last drench."
+
+"Ah, but I shall thaw out again, and then you'll see. Instead of the
+comfortably tepid, genial ghost I have been in my past, sir, I shall be
+iced-water," cried the lady, threateningly.
+
+"No, you won't, either," returned Oglethorpe; "for when you are frozen
+quite stiff, I shall send you to a cold-storage warehouse, and there
+shall you remain an icy work of art forever more."
+
+"But warehouses burn."
+
+"So they do, but this warehouse cannot burn. It is made of asbestos and
+surrounding it are fireproof walls, and within those walls the
+temperature is now and shall forever be 416 degrees below the zero
+point; low enough to make an icicle of any flame in this world--or the
+next," the master added, with an ill-suppressed chuckle.
+
+"For the last time let me beseech you. I would go on my knees to you,
+Oglethorpe, were they not already frozen. I beg of you do not doo----"
+
+Here even the words froze on the water-ghost's lips and the clock struck
+one. There was a momentary tremor throughout the ice-bound form, and the
+moon, coming out from behind a cloud, shone down on the rigid figure of
+a beautiful woman sculptured in clear, transparent ice. There stood the
+ghost of Harrowby Hall, conquered by the cold, a prisoner for all time.
+
+The heir of Harrowby had won at last, and to-day in a large storage
+house in London stands the frigid form of one who will never again flood
+the house of Oglethorpe with woe and sea-water.
+
+As for the heir of Harrowby, his success in coping with a ghost has made
+him famous, a fame that still lingers about him, although his victory
+took place some twenty years ago; and so far from being unpopular with
+the fair sex, as he was when we first knew him, he has not only been
+married twice, but is to lead a third bride to the altar before the year
+is out.
+
+
+
+
+BACK FROM THAT BOURNE
+
+ANONYMOUS
+
+From the New York _Sun_. By permission of the editor.
+
+
+
+
+Back from That Bourne
+
+ANONYMOUS
+
+     _Practical Working of Materialization in Maine. A
+     Strange Story from Pocock Island--A Materialized Spirit
+     that Will not Go back. The First Glimpse of what May
+     yet Cause very Extensive Trouble in this World._
+
+(The _Sun_, Saturday, December 19, 1874.)
+
+
+We are permitted to make extracts from a private letter which bears the
+signature of a gentleman well known in business circles, and whose
+veracity we have never heard called in question. His statements are
+startling and well-nigh incredible, but if true, they are susceptible of
+easy verification. Yet the thoughtful mind will hesitate about accepting
+them without the fullest proof, for they spring upon the world a social
+problem of stupendous importance. The dangers apprehended by Mr. Malthus
+and his followers become remote and commonplace by the side of this new
+and terrible issue.
+
+The letter is dated at Pocock Island, a small township in Washington
+County, Maine, about seventeen miles from the mainland and nearly
+midway between Mt. Desert and the Grand Menan. The last state census
+accords to Pocock Island a population of 311, mostly engaged in the
+porgy fisheries. At the Presidential election of 1872 the island gave
+Grant a majority of three. These two facts are all that we are able to
+learn of the locality from sources outside of the letter already
+referred to.
+
+The letter, omitting certain passages which refer solely to private
+matters, reads as follows:
+
+"But enough of the disagreeable business that brought me here to this
+bleak island in the month of November. I have a singular story to tell
+you. After our experience together at Chittenden I know you will not
+reject statements because they are startling.
+
+"My friend, there is upon Pocock Island a materialized spirit which (or
+who) refuses to be dematerialized. At this moment and within a quarter
+of a mile from me as I write, a man who died and was buried four years
+ago, and who has exploited the mysteries beyond the grave, walks, talks,
+and holds interviews with the inhabitants of the island, and is, to all
+appearances, determined to remain permanently upon this side of the
+river. I will relate the circumstances as briefly as I can."
+
+
+JOHN NEWBEGIN
+
+"In April, 1870, John Newbegin died and was buried in the little
+cemetery on the landward side of the island. Newbegin was a man of
+about forty-eight, without family or near connections, and eccentric to
+a degree that sometimes inspired questions as to his sanity. What money
+he had earned by many seasons' fishing upon the banks was invested in
+quarters of two small mackerel schooners, the remainder of which
+belonged to John Hodgeson, the richest man on Pocock, who was estimated
+by good authorities to be worth thirteen or fourteen thousand dollars.
+
+"Newbegin was not without a certain kind of culture. He had read a good
+deal of the odds and ends of literature and, as a simple-minded islander
+expressed it in my hearing, knew more bookfuls than anybody on the
+island. He was naturally an intelligent man; and he might have attained
+influence in the community had it not been for his utter aimlessness of
+character, his indifference to fortune, and his consuming thirst for
+rum.
+
+"Many yachtsmen who have had occasion to stop at Pocock for water or for
+harbor shelter during eastern cruises, will remember a long, listless
+figure, astonishingly attired in blue army pants, rubber boots, loose
+toga made of some bright chintz material, and very bad hat, staggering
+through the little settlement, followed by a rabble of jeering brats,
+and pausing to strike uncertain blows at those within reach of the dead
+sculpin which he usually carried round by the tail. This was John
+Newbegin."
+
+
+HIS SUDDEN DEATH
+
+"As I have already remarked, he died four years ago last April. The
+_Mary Emmeline_, one of the little schooners in which he owned, had
+returned from the eastward, and had smuggled, or 'run in' a quantity of
+St. John brandy. Newbegin had a solitary and protracted debauch. He was
+missed from his accustomed walks for several days, and when the
+islanders broke into the hovel where he lived, close down to the seaweed
+and almost within reach of the incoming tide, they found him dead on the
+floor, with an emptied demijohn hard by his head.
+
+"After the primitive custom of the island, they interred John Newbegin's
+remains without coroner's inquest, burial certificate, or funeral
+services, and in the excitement of a large catch of porgies that summer,
+soon forgot him and his friendless life. His interest in the _Mary
+Emmeline_ and the _Prettyboat_ recurred to John Hodgeson; and as nobody
+came forward to demand an administration of the estate, it was never
+administered. The forms of law are but loosely followed in some of these
+marginal localities."
+
+
+HIS REAPPEARANCE AT POCOCK
+
+"Well, my dear ----, four years and four months had brought their quota
+of varying seasons to Pocock Island when John Newbegin reappeared under
+the following circumstances:
+
+"In the latter part of last August, as you may remember, there was a
+heavy gale all along our Atlantic coast. During this storm the squadron
+of the Naugatuck Yacht Club, which was returning from a summer cruise as
+far as Campobello, was forced to take shelter in the harbor to the
+leeward of Pocock Island. The gentlemen of the club spent three days at
+the little settlement ashore. Among the party was Mr. R---- E----, by
+which name you will recognize a medium of celebrity, and one who has
+been particularly successful in materializations. At the desire of his
+companions, and to relieve the tedium of their detention, Mr.
+E---- improvised a cabinet in the little schoolhouse at Pocock, and gave
+a _seance_, to the delight of his fellow yachtsmen and the utter
+bewilderment of such natives as were permitted to witness the
+manifestations.
+
+"The conditions appeared unusually favorable to spirit appearances and
+the _seance_ was upon the whole perhaps the most remarkable that Mr.
+E---- ever held. It was all the more remarkable because the surroundings
+were such that the most prejudiced skeptic could discover no possibility
+of trickery.
+
+"The first form to issue from the wood closet which constituted the
+cabinet, when Mr. E---- had been tied therein by a committee of old
+sailors from the yachts, was that of an Indian chief who announced
+himself as Hock-a-mock, and who retired after dancing a 'Harvest Moon'
+_pas seul_, and declaring himself in very emphatic terms, as opposed to
+the present Indian policy of the Administration. Hock-a-mock was
+succeeded by the aunt of one of the yachtsmen, who identified herself
+beyond question by allusion to family matters and by displaying the scar
+of a burn upon her left arm, received while making tomato catsup upon
+earth. Then came successively a child whom none present recognized, a
+French Canadian who could not talk English, and a portly gentleman who
+introduced himself as William King, first Governor of Maine. These in
+turn reentered the cabinet and were seen no more.
+
+"It was some time before another spirit manifested itself, and Mr. E----
+gave directions that the lights be turned down still further. Then the
+door of the wood closet was slowly opened and a singular figure in
+rubber boots and a species of Dolly Varden garment emerged, bringing a
+dead fish in his right hand."
+
+
+HIS DETERMINATION TO REMAIN
+
+"The city men who were present, I am told, thought that the medium was
+masquerading in grotesque habiliments for the more complete astonishment
+of the islanders, but these latter rose from their seats and exclaimed
+with one consent: 'It is John Newbegin!' And then, in not unnatural
+terror of the apparition they turned and fled from the schoolroom,
+uttering dismal cries.
+
+"John Newbegin came calmly forward and turned up the solitary kerosene
+lamp that shed uncertain light over the proceedings. He then sat down in
+the teacher's chair, folded his arms, and looked complacently about him.
+
+"'You might as well untie the medium,' he finally remarked. 'I propose
+to remain in the materialized condition.'
+
+"And he did remain. When the party left the schoolhouse among them
+walked John Newbegin, as truly a being of flesh and blood as any man of
+them. From that day to this, he has been a living inhabitant of Pocock
+Island, eating, drinking, (water only) and sleeping after the manner of
+men. The yachtsmen who made sail for Bar Harbor the very next morning,
+probably believe that he was a fraud hired for the occasion by Mr.
+E----. But the people of Pocock, who laid him out, dug his grave, and
+put him into it four years ago, know that John Newbegin has come back to
+them from a land they know not of."
+
+
+A SINGULAR MEMBER OF SOCIETY
+
+"The idea, of having a ghost--somewhat more condensed it is true than
+the traditional ghost--as a member was not at first overpleasing to the
+311 inhabitants of Pocock Island. To this day, they are a little
+sensitive upon the subject, feeling evidently that if the matter got
+abroad, it might injure the sale of the really excellent porgy oil
+which is the product of their sole manufacturing interest. This
+reluctance to advertise the skeleton in their closet, superadded to the
+slowness of these obtuse, fishy, matter-of-fact people to recognize the
+transcendent importance of the case, must be accepted as explanation of
+the fact that John Newbegin's spirit has been on earth between three and
+four months, and yet the singular circumstance is not known to the whole
+country.
+
+"But the Pocockians have at last come to see that a spirit is not
+necessarily a malevolent spirit, and accepting his presence as a fact in
+their stolid, unreasoning way, they are quite neighborly and sociable
+with Mr. Newbegin.
+
+"I know that your first question will be: 'Is there sufficient proof of
+his ever having been dead?' To this I answer unhesitatingly, 'Yes.' He
+was too well-known a character and too many people saw the corpse to
+admit of any mistake on this point. I may add here that it was at one
+time proposed to disinter the original remains, but that project was
+abandoned in deference to the wishes of Mr. Newbegin, who feels a
+natural delicacy about having his first set of bones disturbed from
+motives of mere curiosity."
+
+
+AN INTERVIEW WITH A DEAD MAN
+
+"You will readily believe that I took occasion to see and converse with
+John Newbegin. I found him affable and even communicative. He is
+perfectly aware of his doubtful status as a being, but is in hopes that
+at some future time there may be legislation that shall correctly define
+his position and the position of any spirit who may follow him into the
+material world. The only point upon which he is reticent is his
+experience during the four years that elapsed between his death and his
+reappearance at Pocock. It is to be presumed that the memory is not a
+pleasant one: at least he never speaks of this period. He candidly
+admits, however, that he is glad to get back to earth and that he
+embraced the very first opportunity to be materialized.
+
+"Mr. Newbegin says that he is consumed with remorse for the wasted years
+of his previous existence. Indeed, his conduct during the past three
+months would show that this regret is genuine. He has discarded his
+eccentric costume, and dresses like a reasonable spirit. He has not
+touched liquor since his reappearance. He has embarked in the porgy oil
+business, and his operations already rival that of Hodgeson, his old
+partner in the _Mary Emmeline_ and the _Prettyboat_. By the way,
+Newbegin threatens to sue Hodgeson for his individed quarter in each of
+these vessels, and this interesting case therefore bids fair to be
+thoroughly investigated in the courts.
+
+"As a business man, he is generally esteemed on the Island, although
+there is a noticeable reluctance to discount his paper at long dates. In
+short, Mr. John Newbegin is a most respectable citizen (if a dead man
+can be a citizen) and has announced his intention of running for the
+next Legislature!"
+
+
+IN CONCLUSION
+
+"And now, my dear ----, I have told you the substance of all I know
+respecting this strange, strange case. Yet, after all, why so strange?
+We accepted materialization at Chittenden. Is this any more than the
+logical issue of that admission? If the spirit may return to earth,
+clothed in flesh and blood and all the physical attributes of humanity,
+why may it not remain on earth as long as it sees fit?
+
+"Thinking of it from whatever standpoint, I cannot but regard John
+Newbegin as the pioneer of a possibly large immigration from the spirit
+world. The bars once down, a whole flock will come trooping back to
+earth. Death will lose its significance altogether. And when I think of
+the disturbance which will result in our social relations, of the
+overthrow of all accepted institutions, and of the nullification of all
+principles of political economy, law, and religion, I am lost in
+perplexity and apprehension."
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST-SHIP
+
+BY RICHARD MIDDLETON
+
+From _The Ghost-Ship_ by Richard Middleton. Published by permission of
+Mitchell Kennerley, and taken from the volume, _The Ghost-Ship and Other
+Stories_.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost-Ship
+
+BY RICHARD MIDDLETON
+
+
+Fairfield is a little village lying near the Portsmouth Road, about
+halfway between London and the sea. Strangers, who now and then find it
+by accident, call it a pretty, old-fashioned place; we who live in it
+and call it home don't find anything very pretty about it, but we should
+be sorry to live anywhere else. Our minds have taken the shape of the
+inn and the church and the green, I suppose. At all events, we never
+feel comfortable out of Fairfield.
+
+Of course the cockneys, with their vasty houses and noise-ridden
+streets, can call us rustics if they choose; but for all that, Fairfield
+is a better place to live in than London. Doctor says that when he goes
+to London his mind is bruised with the weight of the houses, and he was
+a cockney born. He had to live there himself when he was a little chap,
+but he knows better now. You gentlemen may laugh--perhaps some of you
+come from London-way, but it seems to me that a witness like that is
+worth a gallon of arguments.
+
+Dull? Well, you might find it dull, but I assure you that I've listened
+to all the London yarns you have spun to-night, and they're absolutely
+nothing to the things that happen at Fairfield. It's because of our way
+of thinking, and minding our own business. If one of your Londoners was
+set down on the green of a Saturday night when the ghosts of the lads
+who died in the war keep tryst with the lasses who lie in the
+churchyard, he couldn't help being curious and interfering, and then the
+ghosts would go somewhere where it was quieter. But we just let them
+come and go and don't make any fuss, and in consequence Fairfield is the
+ghostiest place in all England. Why, I've seen a headless man sitting on
+the edge of the well in broad daylight, and the children playing about
+his feet as if he were their father. Take my word for it, spirits know
+when they are well off as much as human beings.
+
+Still, I must admit that the thing I'm going to tell you about was queer
+even for our part of the world, where three packs of ghost-hounds hunt
+regularly during the season, and blacksmith's great-grandfather is busy
+all night shoeing the dead gentlemen's horses. Now that's a thing that
+wouldn't happen in London, because of their interfering ways; but
+blacksmith he lies up aloft and sleeps as quiet as a lamb. Once when he
+had a bad head he shouted down to them not to make so much noise, and
+in the morning he found an old guinea left on the anvil as an apology.
+He wears it on his watch-chain now. But I must get on with my story; if
+I start telling you about the queer happenings at Fairfield, I'll never
+stop.
+
+It all came of the great storm in the spring of '97, the year that we
+had two great storms. This was the first one, and I remember it well,
+because I found in the morning that it had lifted the thatch of my
+pigsty into the widow's garden as clean as a boy's kite. When I looked
+over the hedge, widow--Tom Lamport's widow that was--was prodding for
+her nasturtiums with a daisy grubber. After I had watched her for a
+little I went down to the Fox and Grapes to tell landlord what she had
+said to me. Landlord he laughed, being a married man and at ease with
+the sex. "Come to that," he said, "the tempest has blowed something into
+my field. A kind of a ship I think it would be."
+
+I was surprised at that until he explained that it was only a
+ghost-ship, and would do no hurt to the turnips. We argued that it had
+been blown up from the sea at Portsmouth, and then we talked of
+something else. There were two slates down at the parsonage and a big
+tree in Lumley's meadow. It was a rare storm.
+
+I reckon the wind had blown our ghosts all over England. They were
+coming back for days afterward with foundered horses, and as footsore as
+possible, and they were so glad to get back to Fairfield that some of
+them walked up the street crying like little children. Squire said that
+his great-grandfather's great-grandfather hadn't looked so dead-beat
+since the battle of Naseby, and he's an educated man.
+
+What with one thing and another, I should think it was a week before we
+got straight again, and then one afternoon I met the landlord on the
+green, and he had a worried face. "I wish you'd come and have a look at
+that ship in my field," he said to me. "It seems to me it's leaning real
+hard on the turnips. I can't bear thinking what the missus will say when
+she sees it."
+
+I walked down the lane with him, and, sure enough, there was a ship in
+the middle of his field, but such a ship as no man had seen on the water
+for three hundred years, let alone in the middle of a turnipfield. It
+was all painted black, and covered with carvings, and there was a great
+bay-window in the stern, for all the world like the squire's
+drawing-room. There was a crowd of little black cannon on deck and
+looking out of her port-holes, and she was anchored at each end to the
+hard ground. I have seen the wonders of the world on picture-postcards,
+but I have never seen anything to equal that.
+
+"She seems very solid for a ghost-ship," I said, seeing that landlord
+was bothered.
+
+"I should say it's a betwixt and between," he answered, puzzling it
+over; "but it's going to spoil a matter of fifty turnips, and missus
+she'll want it moved." We went up to her and touched the side, and it
+was as hard as a real ship. "Now, there's folks in England would call
+that very curious," he said.
+
+Now, I don't know much about ships, but I should think that that
+ghost-ship weighed a solid two hundred tons, and it seemed to me that
+she had come to stay; so that I felt sorry for landlord, who was a
+married man. "All the horses in Fairfield won't move her out of my
+turnips," he said, frowning at her.
+
+Just then we heard a noise on her deck, and we looked up and saw that a
+man had come out of her front cabin and was looking down at us very
+peaceably. He was dressed in a black uniform set off with rusty gold
+lace, and he had a great cutlass by his side in a brass sheath. "I'm
+Captain Bartholomew Roberts," he said in a gentleman's voice, "put in
+for recruits. I seem to have brought her rather far up the harbor."
+
+"Harbor!" cried landlord. "Why, you're fifty miles from the sea!"
+
+Captain Roberts didn't turn a hair. "So much as that, is it?" he said
+coolly. "Well, it's of no consequence."
+
+Landlord was a bit upset at this. "I don't want to be unneighborly," he
+said, "but I wish you hadn't brought your ship into my field. You see,
+my wife sets great store on these turnips."
+
+The captain took a pinch of snuff out of a fine gold box that he pulled
+out of his pocket, and dusted his fingers with a silk handkerchief in a
+very genteel fashion. "I'm only here for a few months," he said, "but
+if a testimony of my esteem would pacify your good lady, I should be
+content," and with the words he loosed a great gold brooch from the neck
+of his coat and tossed it down to landlord.
+
+Landlord blushed as red as a strawberry. "I'm not denying she's fond of
+jewelry," he said; "but it's too much for half a sackful of turnips."
+Indeed it was a handsome brooch.
+
+The captain laughed. "Tut, man!" he said, "it's a forced sale, and you
+deserve a good price. Say no more about it," and nodding good day to us,
+he turned on his heel and went into the cabin. Landlord walked back up
+the lane like a man with a weight off his mind. "That tempest has blowed
+me a bit of luck," he said; "the missus will be main pleased with that
+brooch. It's better than blacksmith's guinea any day."
+
+'97 was Jubilee year--the year of the second Jubilee, you remember, and
+we had great doings at Fairfield, so that we hadn't much time to bother
+about the ghost-ship, though, anyhow, it isn't our way to meddle in
+things that don't concern us. Landlord he saw his tenant once or twice
+when he was hoeing his turnips, and passed the time of day and
+landlord's wife wore her new brooch to church every Sunday. But we
+didn't mix much with the ghosts at any time, all except an idiot lad
+there was in the village, and he didn't know the difference between a
+man and a ghost, poor innocent! On Jubilee day, however, somebody told
+Captain Roberts why the church bells were ringing, and he hoisted a
+flag and fired off his guns like a loyal Englishman. 'T is true the guns
+were shotted, and one of the round shot knocked a hole in Farmer
+Johnstone's barn, but nobody thought much of that in such a season of
+rejoicing.
+
+It wasn't till our celebrations were over that we noticed that anything
+was wrong in Fairfield. 'T was shoemaker who told me first about it one
+morning at the Fox and Grapes. "You know my great-great-uncle?" he said
+to me.
+
+"You mean Joshua, the quiet lad?" I answered, knowing him well.
+
+"Quiet!" said shoemaker, indignantly. "Quiet you call him, coming home
+at three o'clock every morning as drunk as a magistrate and waking up
+the whole house with his noise!"
+
+"Why, it can't be Joshua," I said, for I knew him for one of the most
+respectable young ghosts in the village.
+
+"Joshua it is," said shoemaker; "and one of these nights he'll find
+himself out in the street if he isn't careful."
+
+This kind of talk shocked me, I can tell you, for I don't like to hear a
+man abusing his own family, and I could hardly believe that a steady
+youngster like Joshua had taken to drink. But just then in came butcher
+Aylwin in such a temper that he could hardly drink his beer. "The young
+puppy! The young puppy!" he kept on saying, and it was some time before
+shoemaker and I found out that he was talking about his ancestor that
+fell at Senlac.
+
+"Drink?" said shoemaker, hopefully, for we all like company in our
+misfortunes, and butcher nodded grimly. "The young noodle!" he said,
+emptying his tankard.
+
+Well, after that I kept my ears open, and it was the same story all over
+the village. There was hardly a young man among all the ghosts of
+Fairfield who didn't roll home in the small hours of the morning the
+worse for liquor. I used to wake up in the night and hear them stumble
+past my house, singing outrageous songs. The worst of it was that we
+couldn't keep the scandal to ourselves, and the folk at Greenhill began
+to talk of "sodden Fairfield" and taught their children to sing a song
+about us:
+
+    Sodden Fairfield, sodden Fairfield,
+      Has no use for bread and butter,
+    Rum for breakfast, rum for dinner,
+      Rum for tea, and rum for supper!
+
+We are easy-going in our village, but we didn't like that.
+
+Of course we soon found out where the young fellows went to get the
+drink, and landlord was terribly cut up that his tenant should have
+turned out so badly; but his wife wouldn't hear of parting with the
+brooch, so he couldn't give the captain notice to quit. But as time went
+on, things grew from bad to worse, and at all hours of the day you
+would see those young reprobates sleeping it off on the village green.
+Nearly every afternoon a ghost-wagon used to jolt down to the ship with
+a lading of rum, and though the older ghosts seemed inclined to give the
+captain's hospitality the go-by, the youngsters were neither to hold nor
+to bind.
+
+So one afternoon when I was taking my nap, I heard a knock at the door,
+and there was parson, looking very serious, like a man with a job before
+him that he didn't altogether relish.
+
+"I'm going down to talk to the captain about all this drunkenness in the
+village, and I want you to come with me," he said straight out.
+
+I can't say that I fancied the visit much myself, and I tried to hint to
+parson that as, after all, they were only a lot of ghosts, it didn't
+much matter.
+
+"Dead or alive, I'm responsible for their good conduct," he said, "and
+I'm going to do my duty and put a stop to this continued disorder. And
+you are coming with me, John Simmons."
+
+So I went, parson being a persuasive kind of man.
+
+We went down to the ship, and as we approached her, I could see the
+captain tasting the air on deck. When he saw parson, he took off his hat
+very politely, and I can tell you that I was relieved to find that he
+had a proper respect for the cloth. Parson acknowledged his salute, and
+spoke out stoutly enough.
+
+"Sir, I should be glad to have a word with you."
+
+"Come on board, sir; come on board," said the captain, and I could tell
+by his voice that he knew why we were there.
+
+Parson and I climbed up an uneasy kind of ladder, and the captain took
+us into the great cabin at the back of the ship, where the bay-window
+was. It was the most wonderful place you ever saw in your life, all full
+of gold and silver plate, swords with jeweled scabbards, carved oak
+chairs, and great chests that looked as though they were bursting with
+guineas. Even parson was surprised, and he did not shake his head very
+hard when the captain took down some silver cups and poured us out a
+drink of rum. I tasted mine, and I don't mind saying that it changed my
+view of things entirely. There was nothing betwixt and between about
+that rum, and I felt that it was ridiculous to blame the lads for
+drinking too much of stuff like that. It seemed to fill my veins with
+honey and fire.
+
+Parson put the case squarely to the captain, but I didn't listen much to
+what he said. I was busy sipping my drink and looking through the window
+at the fishes swimming to and fro over landlord's turnips. Just then it
+seemed the most natural thing in the world that they should be there,
+though afterward, of course, I could see that that proved it was a
+ghost-ship.
+
+But even then I thought it was queer when I saw a drowned sailor float
+by in the thin air, with his hair and beard all full of bubbles. It was
+the first time I had seen anything quite like that at Fairfield.
+
+All the time I was regarding the wonders of the deep, parson was telling
+Captain Roberts how there was no peace or rest in the village owing to
+the curse of drunkenness, and what a bad example the youngsters were
+setting to the older ghosts. The captain listened very attentively, and
+put in a word only now and then about boys being boys and young men
+sowing their wild oats. But when parson had finished his speech, he
+filled up our silver cups and said to parson with a flourish:
+
+"I should be sorry to cause trouble anywhere where I have been made
+welcome, and you will be glad to hear that I put to sea to-morrow night.
+And now you must drink me a prosperous voyage."
+
+So we all stood up and drank the toast with honor, and that noble rum
+was like hot oil in my veins.
+
+After that, captain showed us some of the curiosities he had brought
+back from foreign parts, and we were greatly amazed, though afterward I
+couldn't clearly remember what they were. And then I found myself
+walking across the turnips with parson, and I was telling him of the
+glories of the deep that I had seen through the window of the ship. He
+turned on me severely.
+
+"If I were you, John Simmons," he said, "I should go straight home to
+bed." He has a way of putting things that wouldn't occur to an ordinary
+man, has parson, and I did as he told me.
+
+Well, next day it came on to blow, and it blew harder and harder, till
+about eight o'clock at night I heard a noise and looked out into the
+garden. I dare say you won't believe me,--it seems a bit tall even to
+me,--but the wind had lifted the thatch of my pigsty into the widow's
+garden a second time. I thought I wouldn't wait to hear what widow had
+to say about it, so I went across the green to the Fox and Grapes, and
+the wind was so strong that I danced along on tiptoe like a girl at the
+fair. When I got to the inn, landlord had to help me shut the door. It
+seemed as though a dozen goats were pushing against it to come in out of
+the storm.
+
+"It's a powerful tempest," he said, drawing the beer. "I hear there's a
+chimney down at Dickory End."
+
+"It's a funny thing how these sailors know about the weather," I
+answered. "When captain said he was going to-night, I was thinking it
+would take a capful of wind to carry the ship back to sea; and now
+here's more than a capful."
+
+"Ah, yes," said landlord; "it's to-night he goes true enough, and mind
+you, though he treated me handsome over the rent, I'm not sure it's a
+loss to the village. I don't hold with gentrice, who fetch their drink
+from London instead of helping local traders to get their living."
+
+"But you haven't got any rum like his," I said, to draw him out.
+
+His neck grew red above his collar, and I was afraid I'd gone too far;
+but after a while he got his breath with a grunt.
+
+"John Simmons," he said, "if you've come down here this windy night to
+talk a lot of fool's talk, you've wasted a journey."
+
+Well, of course then I had to smooth him down with praising his rum, and
+Heaven forgive me for swearing it was better than captain's. For the
+like of that rum no living lips have tasted save mine and parson's. But
+somehow or other I brought landlord round, and presently we must have a
+glass of his best to prove its quality.
+
+"Beat that if you can," he cried, and we both raised our glasses to our
+mouths, only to stop halfway and look at each other in amaze. For the
+wind that had been howling outside like an outrageous dog had all of a
+sudden turned as melodious as the carol-boys of a Christmas eve.
+
+"Surely that's not my Martha," whispered landlord, Martha being his
+great-aunt who lived in the loft overhead.
+
+We went to the door, and the wind burst it open so that the handle was
+driven clean into the plaster of the wall, but we didn't think about
+that at the time; for over our heads, sailing very comfortably through
+the windy stars, was the ship that had passed the summer in landlord's
+field. Her port-holes and her bay-window were blazing with lights, and
+there was a noise of singing and fiddling on her decks. "He's gone!"
+shouted landlord above the storm, "and he's taken half the village with
+him." I could only nod in answer, not having lungs like bellows of
+leather.
+
+In the morning we were able to measure the strength of the storm, and
+over and above my pigsty, there was damage enough wrought in the village
+to keep us busy. True it is that the children had to break down no
+branches for the firing that autumn, since the wind had strewn the woods
+with more than they could carry away. Many of our ghosts were scattered
+abroad, but this time very few came back, all the young men having
+sailed with captain; and not only ghosts, for a poor half-witted lad was
+missing, and we reckoned that he had stowed himself away or perhaps
+shipped as cabin-boy, not knowing any better.
+
+What with the lamentations of the ghost girls and the grumblings of
+families who had lost ancestors, the village was upset for a while, and
+the funny thing was that it was the folk who had complained most of the
+carryings-on of the youngsters who made most noise now that they were
+gone. I hadn't any sympathy with shoemaker or butcher, who ran about
+saying how much they missed their lads, but it made me grieve to hear
+the poor bereaved girls calling their lovers by name on the village
+green at nightfall. It didn't seem fair to me that they should have lost
+their men a second time, after giving up life in order to join them, as
+like as not. Still, not even a spirit can be sorry forever, and after a
+few months we made up our mind that the folk who had sailed in the ship
+were never coming back; and we didn't talk about it any more.
+
+And then one day, I dare say it would be a couple of years after, when
+the whole business was quite forgotten, who should come trapesing along
+the road from Portsmouth but the daft lad who had gone away with the
+ship without waiting till he was dead to become a ghost. You never saw
+such a boy as that in all your life. He had a great rusty cutlass
+hanging to a string at his waist, and he was tattooed all over in fine
+colors, so that even his face looked like a girl's sampler. He had a
+handkerchief in his hand full of foreign shells and old-fashioned pieces
+of small money, very curious, and he walked up to the well outside his
+mother's house and drew himself a drink as if he had been nowhere in
+particular.
+
+The worst of it was that he had come back as soft-headed as he went, and
+try as we might, we couldn't get anything reasonable out of him. He
+talked a lot of gibberish about keelhauling and walking the plank and
+crimson murders--things which a decent sailor should know nothing about,
+so that it seemed to me that for all his manners captain had been more
+of a pirate than a gentleman mariner. But to draw sense out of that boy
+was as hard as picking cherries off a crab-tree. One silly tale he had
+that he kept on drifting back to, and to hear him you would have thought
+that it was the only thing that happened to him in his life.
+
+"We was at anchor," he would say, "off an island called the Basket of
+Flowers, and the sailors had caught a lot of parrots and we were
+teaching them to swear. Up and down the decks, up and down the decks,
+and the language they used was dreadful. Then we looked up and saw the
+masts of the Spanish ship outside the harbor. Outside the harbor they
+were, so we threw the parrots into the sea, and sailed out to fight. And
+all the parrots were drowneded in the sea, and the language they used
+was dreadful."
+
+That's the sort of boy he was--nothing but silly talk of parrots when we
+asked him about the fighting. And we never had a chance of teaching him
+better, for two days after he ran away again, and hasn't been seen
+since.
+
+That's my story, and I assure you that things like that are happening at
+Fairfield all the time. The ship has never come back, but somehow, as
+people grow older, they seem to think that one of these windy nights
+she'll come sailing in over the hedges with all the lost ghosts on
+board. Well, when she comes, she'll be welcome. There's one ghost lass
+that has never grown tired of waiting for her lad to return. Every night
+you'll see her out on the green, straining her poor eyes with looking
+for the mast-lights among the stars. A faithful lass you'd call her, and
+I'm thinking you'd be right.
+
+Landlord's field wasn't a penny the worse for the visit; but they do say
+that since then the turnips that have been grown in it have tasted of
+rum.
+
+
+
+
+THE TRANSPLANTED GHOST
+
+A CHRISTMAS STORY
+
+BY WALLACE IRWIN
+
+From _Everybody's Magazine_. By permission of _Everybody's_ and Wallace
+Irwin.
+
+
+
+
+The Transplanted Ghost
+
+A CHRISTMAS STORY
+
+BY WALLACE IRWIN
+
+
+When Aunt Elizabeth asked me to spend Christmas with her at Seven Oaks
+she appended a peculiar request to her letter. "Like a good fellow," she
+wrote, "won't you drop off at Perkinsville, Ohio, on your way, and take
+a look at Gauntmoor Castle? They say it's a wonderful old pile; and its
+history is in many ways connected with that of our own family. As long
+as you're the last of the Geoffray Pierreponts, such things ought to
+interest you." Like her auburn namesake who bossed the Thames of yore,
+sweet, red-haired, romantic autocrat, Aunt Elizabeth! Her wishes were
+commands.
+
+"What the deuce is Aunt Elizabeth up to now?" I asked Tim Cole, my law
+partner, whom I found in my rooms smoking my tobacco. "Why should I be
+inspecting Gauntmoor Castle--and what is a castle named Gauntmoor doing
+in Perkinsville, Ohio, anyway? Perkinsville sounds like the Middle West,
+and Gauntmoor sounds like the Middle Ages."
+
+"Right in both analyses," said the pipe-poaching Tim. "Castle Gauntmoor
+_is_ from the Middle Ages, and we all know about where in Ohio
+Perkinsville is. But is it possible that you, twenty-seven years old and
+a college graduate, haven't heard of Thaddeus Hobson, the Marvelous
+Millionaire?" I shook my head. "The papers have been full of Hobson in
+the past two or three years," said Tim. "It was in 1898, I think, that
+Fate jumped Thaddeus Hobson to the golden Olympus. He was first head
+salesman in the village hardware store, then he formulated so successful
+a scheme to clean up the Tin Plate Combine that he put away a fabulous
+number of millions in a year, and subsequently went to England. Finally
+he set his heart on Norman architecture. After a search he found the
+ancient Castle Gauntmoor still habitable and for sale. He thrilled the
+British comic papers by his offer to buy the castle and move it to
+America. Hobson saw the property, telegraphed to London, and closed the
+deal in two hours. And an army of laborers at once began taking the
+Gauntmoor to pieces, stone by stone.
+
+"Transporting that relic to America involved a cost in labor and
+ingenuity comparable with nothing that has yet happened. Moving the
+Great Pyramid would be a lighter job, perhaps. Thousands of tons of
+scarred and medieval granite were carried to the railroads, freighted to
+the sea, and dragged across the Atlantic in whopping big lighters
+chartered for the job. And the next the newspapers knew, the monster
+was set up in Perkinsville, Ohio."
+
+"But why did he do it?" I asked.
+
+"Who knows?" said Tim. "Ingrowing sentiment--unlimited capital--wanted
+to do something for the Home Town, probably; wanted to beautify the
+village that gave him his start--and didn't know how to go at it. Well,
+so long!" he called out, as I seized my hat and streaked for the train.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was dinner time when the train pulled in at Perkinsville. The town
+was as undistinguished as I expected. I was too hungry to care about
+castles at the moment, so I took the 'bus for the Commercial Hotel, an
+establishment that seemed to live up to its name, both in sentiment and
+in accommodation. The landlord, Mr. Spike, referred bitterly to the
+castle, which, he explained, was, by its dominating presence, "spoilin'
+the prosperous appearance of Perkinsville." Dinner over, he led me to a
+side porch.
+
+"How does Perkinsville look with that--with that curio squattin' on top
+of it?" asked Mr. Spike sternly, as he pointed over the local livery
+stable, over Smith Brothers' Plow Works, over Odd Fellows' Hall, and up,
+up to the bleak hills beyond, where, poised like a stony coronet on a
+giant's brow, rose the great Norman towers and frowning buttresses of
+Gauntmoor Castle. I rubbed my eyes. No, it _couldn't_ be real--it must
+be a wizard's work!
+
+"What's old Hobson got out of it?" said Mr. Spike in my ear. "Nothin'
+but an old stone barn, where he can set all day nursin' a grouch and
+keepin' his daughter Anita--they do say he does--under lock and key for
+fear somebody's goin' to marry her for her money."
+
+Mr. Spike looked up at the ramparts defiantly, even as the Saxon churl
+must have gazed in an earlier, far sadder land.
+
+"It's romantic," I suggested.
+
+"Yes, _darn_ rheumatic," agreed Mr. Spike.
+
+"Is it open for visitors?" I asked innocently.
+
+"Hobson?" cackled Spike. "He'd no more welcome a stranger to that place
+than he'd welcome--a ghost. He's a hol-ee terror, Hobson!"
+
+Mr. Spike turned away to referee a pool game down in the barroom.
+
+The fires of a December sunset flared behind Gauntmoor and cast the grim
+shadows of Medievalism over Mediocrity, which lay below. Presently the
+light faded, and I grew tired of gazing. Since Hobson would permit no
+tourists to inspect his castle, why was I here on this foolish trip?
+Already I was planning to wire Aunt Elizabeth a sarcastic reference to
+being marooned at Christmas with a castle on my hands, when a voice at
+my shoulder said suddenly:
+
+"Mr. Hobson sends his compliments, sir, and wants to know would Mr.
+Pierrepont come up to Gauntmoor for the night?"
+
+A groom in a plum-colored livery stood at my elbow. A light station
+wagon was waiting just outside. How the deuce did Hobson know my name?
+What did he want of me at Gauntmoor this time of night? Yet prospects of
+bed and breakfast away from the Commercial lured me strangely.
+
+"Sure, Mr. Pierrepont will be delighted," I announced, leaping into the
+vehicle, and soon we were mounting upward, battling with the winds
+around the time-scarred walls. The wagon stopped at the great gate. A
+horn sounded from within, the gate swung open, a drawbridge fell with a
+hideous creaking of machinery, and we passed in, twenty or thirty feet
+above the snow-drifted moat. Beyond the portcullis a dim door swung
+open. Some sort of seneschal met us with a light and led us below the
+twilight arches, where beyond, I could catch glimpses of the baileys and
+courts and the donjon tower against the heavy ramparts.
+
+The wind hooted through the high galleries as we passed; but the west
+wing, from its many windows and loopholes, blazed with cheerful yellow
+light. It looked nearly cozy. Into a tall, gaunt tower we plunged, down
+a winding staircase, and suddenly we came into a vast hall, stately with
+tapestries and innumerable monkish carvings--and all brightly lighted
+with electricity!
+
+A little fat man sat smoking in a chair near the fire. When I entered he
+was in his shirt sleeves, reading a newspaper, but when a footman
+announced my name the little man, in a state of great nervousness,
+jumped to his feet and threw on a coat, fidgeting painfully with the
+armholes. As he came toward me, I noticed that he was perfectly bald. He
+looked dyspeptic and discontented, like a practical man trying vainly to
+adjust his busy habits to a lazy life. Obviously he didn't go with the
+rest of the furniture.
+
+"Pleased to see you, Mr. Pierrepont," he said, looking me over carefully
+as if he thought of buying me. "Geoffray Pierrepont--tut, tut!--ain't it
+queer!"
+
+"Queer!" I said rather peevishly. "What's queer about it?"
+
+"Excuse me, did I say queer? I didn't mean to be impolite, sir--I was
+just thinking, that's all."
+
+You could hear the demon Army of the Winds scaling the walls outside.
+
+"Maybe you thought it kind of abrupt, Mr. Pierrepont, me asking you up
+here so unceremonious," he said. "My daughter Annie, she tells me I
+ought to live up to the looks of the place; but I've got my notions. To
+tell you the truth, I'm in an awful quandary about this Antique Castle
+business and when I heard you was at the hotel, I thought you might help
+me out some way. You see you----"
+
+He led me to a chair and offered me a fat cigar.
+
+"Young man," he said, "when you get your head above water and make good
+in the world--if you ever do--don't fool with curios, don't monkey with
+antiques. Keep away from castles. They're like everything else sold by
+curio dealers--all humbug. Look nice, yes. But get 'em over to America
+and they either fall to pieces or the paint comes off. Whether it's a
+chair or a castle--same old story. The sly scalawags that sell you the
+goods won't live up to their contracts."
+
+"Hasn't Gauntmoor all the ancient inconveniences a Robber Baron could
+wish?" I asked.
+
+"It ain't," announced Mr. Hobson. "Though it looks all right to a
+stranger, perhaps. There may be castles in the Old World got it on
+Gauntmoor for size--thank God I didn't buy 'em!--but for looks you can't
+beat Gauntmoor."
+
+"Comfortable?" I asked.
+
+"Can't complain. Modern plumbed throughout. Hard to heat, but I put an
+electric-light plant in the cellar. Daughter Annie's got a Colonial
+suite in the North Tower."
+
+"Well," I suggested, "if there's anything the castle lacks, you can buy
+it."
+
+"There's one thing money _can't_ buy," said Mr. Hobson, leaning very
+close and speaking in a sibilant whisper. "And that's ghosts!"
+
+"But who wants ghosts?" I inquired.
+
+"Now look here," said Mr. Hobson. "I'm a business man. When I bought
+Gauntmoor, the London scalawags that sold it to me gave me distinctly to
+understand that this was a Haunted Castle. They showed me a haunted
+chamber, showed me the haunted wall where the ghost walks, guaranteed
+the place to be the Spook Headquarters of the British Isles--and see
+what I got!" He snapped his fingers in disgust.
+
+"No results?"
+
+"Results? Stung! I've slept in that haunted room upstairs for a solid
+year. I've gazed night after night over the haunted rampart. I've even
+hired spiritualists to come and cut their didoes in the towers and
+donjon keep. No use. You can't get ghosts where they ain't."
+
+I expressed my sympathy.
+
+"I'm a plain man," said Hobson. "I ain't got any ancestors back of
+father, who was a blacksmith, and a good one, when sober. Somebody
+else's ancestors is what I looked for in this place--and I've got 'em,
+too, carved in wood and stone in the chapel out back of the tower. But
+statues and carvings ain't like ghosts to add tone to an ancient
+lineage."
+
+"Is there any legend?" I asked.
+
+"Haven't you heard it?" he exclaimed, looking at me sharply out of his
+small gray eyes. "It seems, 'way back in the sixteenth century, there
+was a harum-scarum young feller living in a neighboring castle, and he
+took an awful shine to Lady Katherine, daughter of the Earl of Cummyngs,
+who was boss of this place at that time. Now the young man who loved
+Miss--I mean Lady--Katherine was a sort of wild proposition. Old man
+wouldn't have him around the place; but young man kept hanging on till
+Earl ordered him off. Finally the old gent locked Lady Kitty in the
+donjon tower," said Mr. Hobson.
+
+"Too much shilly-shallying in _this_ generation," he went on. "Every
+house that's got a pretty girl ought to have a donjon keep. I've got
+both." He paused and wiped his brow.
+
+"This fresh young kid I'm telling you about, he thought he knew more
+than the old folks, so he got a rope ladder and climbed up the masonry
+one night, intending to bust into the tower where the girl was. But just
+as he got half across the wall--out yonder--his foot slipped and he
+broke his neck in the moat below. Consequence, Lady Kitty goes crazy and
+old Earl found dead a week later in his room. It was Christmas Eve when
+the boy was killed. That's the night his ghost's supposed to walk along
+the ramparts, give a shriek, and drop off--but the irritating thing
+about it all is, it don't ever happen."
+
+"And now, Mr. Hobson," I said, throwing away the butt of my cigar, "why
+am _I_ here? What have _I_ got to do with all this ghost business?"
+
+"I _want_ you to stay," said Hobson, beseechingly. "To-morrow night's
+Christmas Eve. I've figured it out that your influence, somehow, you
+being of the same blood, as it were, might encourage the ghost to come
+out and save the reputation of the castle."
+
+A servant brought candles, and Hobson turned to retire.
+
+"The same blood!" I shouted after him. "What on earth is the _name_ of
+the ghost?"
+
+"When he was alive his name was--Sir Geoffray de Pierrepont," said
+Thaddeus Hobson, his figure fading into the dimness beyond.
+
+I followed the servant with the candle aloft through chill and carven
+corridors, through galleries lined with faded portraits of forgotten
+lords. "Wheels!" I kept saying to myself. "The old man evidently thinks
+it takes a live Pierrepont to coax a dead one," and I laughed nervously
+as I entered the vast brown bedroom. I had to get on a chair in order to
+climb into the four-poster, a cheerful affair that looked like a royal
+funeral barge. At my head I noticed a carved device, seven mailed hands
+snatching at a sword with the motto: "CAVE ADSUM!"
+
+"Beware, I am here!" I translated. Who was here? Ghosts? Fudge! What
+hideous scenes had this chamber beheld of yore? What might not happen
+here now? Where, by the way, was old Hobson's daughter, Anita? Might not
+anything be possible? I covered my head with the bedclothes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next morning being mild and bright for December, and Thaddeus Hobson and
+his mysterious daughter not having showed up for breakfast, I amused
+myself by inspecting the exterior of the castle. In daylight I could see
+that Gauntmoor, as now restored, consisted of only a portion of the
+original structure. On the west side, near a sheer fall of forty or
+fifty feet, stood the donjon tower, a fine piece of medieval barbarism
+with a peaked roof. And, sure enough! I saw it all now. Running along
+the entire west side of the castle was a wonderful wall, stretching
+above the moat to a dizzy height. It was no difficult matter to mount
+this wall from the courtyard, above which it rose no more than eight or
+ten feet. I ascended by a rude sentry's staircase, and once on top I
+gazed upward at the tall medieval prison-place, which reared above me
+like a clumsy stone chimney. Just as I stood, at the top of the wall, I
+was ten or twelve feet below the lowest window of the donjon tower.
+This, then, was the wall that the ancient Pierrepont had scaled, and
+yonder was the donjon window that he had planned to plunder on that
+fatal night so long ago. And this was where Pierrepont the Ghost was
+supposed to appear!
+
+How the lover of spectral memory had managed to scale that wall from the
+outside, I could not quite make out. But once _on_ the wall, it was no
+trick to snatch the damsel from her durance vile. Just drop a long rope
+ladder from the wall to the moat, then crawl along the narrow ledge--got
+to be careful with a job like that--then up to the window of the donjon
+keep, and away with the Lady Fair. Why, that window above the ramparts
+would be an easy climb for a fellow with strong arms and a little nerve,
+as the face of the tower from the wall to the window was studded with
+ancient spikes and the projecting ends of beams.
+
+I counted the feet, one, two, three--and as I looked up at the window,
+a small, white hand reached out and a pink slip of paper dropped at my
+feet. It read:
+
+DEAR SIR: I'm Miss Hobson. I'm locked in the donjon tower. Father always
+locks me here when there's a young man about. It's a horrid,
+uncomfortable place. Won't you hurry and go?
+
+Yours respectfully,
+
+A. HOBSON.
+
+I knew it was easy. I swung myself aloft on the spikes and stones
+leading to the donjon window. When I was high enough I gazed in, my chin
+about even with the sill. And there I saw the prettiest girl I ever
+beheld, gazing down at a book tranquilly, as though gentlemanly rescuers
+were common as toads around that tower. She wore something soft and
+golden; her hair was night-black, and her eyes were that peculiar shade
+of gray that--but what's the use?
+
+"Pardon," I said, holding on with my right hand, lifting my hat with my
+left. "Pardon, am I addressing Miss Annie Hobson?"
+
+"You are not," she replied, only half looking up. "You are addressing
+Miss Anita Hobson. Calling me Annie is another little habit father ought
+to break himself of." She went on reading.
+
+"Is that a very interesting book?" I asked, because I didn't like to go
+without saying something more.
+
+"It isn't!" She arose suddenly and hurled the book into a corner. "It's
+Anthony Hope--and if there's anything I hate it's him. Father always
+gives me _Prisoner of Zenda_ and _Ivanhoe_ to read when he locks me into
+this donjon. Says I ought to read up on the situation. Do you think so?"
+
+"There are some other books in the library," I suggested. "Bernard Shaw
+and Kipling, you know. I'll run over and get you one."
+
+"That's fine--but no!" she besought, reaching out her hand to detain me.
+"No, don't go! If you went away you'd never come back. They never do."
+
+"Who never do?"
+
+"The young men. The very instant father sees one coming he pops me in
+the tower and turns the key. You see," she explained, "when I was in
+Italy I was engaged to a duke--he was a silly little thing and I was
+glad when he turned out bogus. But father took the deception awfully to
+heart and swore I should never be married for my money. Yet I don't see
+what else a young girl can expect," she added quite simply.
+
+I could have mentioned several hundred things.
+
+"He has no right!" I said sternly. "It's barbarous for him to treat a
+girl that way--especially his daughter."
+
+"Hush!" she said. "Dad's a good sort. But you can't measure him by other
+people's standards. And yet--oh, it's maddening, this life! Day after
+day--loneliness. Nothing but stone walls and rusty armor and books.
+We're rich, but what do we get out of it? I have nobody of my own age
+to talk to. How the years are passing! After a while--I'll be--an old
+maid. I'm twenty-one now!" I heard a sob. Her pretty head was bowed in
+her hands.
+
+Desperately I seized the bars of the window and miraculously they
+parted. I leaned across the sill and drew her hands gently down.
+
+"Listen to me," I said. "If I break in and steal you away from this,
+will you go?"
+
+"Go?" she said. "Where?"
+
+"My aunt lives at Seven Oaks, less than an hour from here by train. You
+can stay there till your father comes to his reason."
+
+"It's quite like father _never_ to come to his reason," she reflected.
+"Then I should have to be self-supporting. Of course, I should
+appreciate employment in a candy shop--I think I know all the principal
+kinds."
+
+"Will you go?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," she replied simply, "I'll go. But how can I get away from here?"
+
+"To-night," I said, "is Christmas Eve, when Pierrepont the Ghost is
+supposed to walk along the wall--right under this window. You don't
+believe that fairy story, do you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Neither do I. But can't you see? The haunted wall begins at my window
+on one end of the castle and ends at your window on the other. The bars
+of your cell, I see, are nearly all loose."
+
+"Yes," she laughed, "I pried them out with a pair of scissors."
+
+I could hear Hobson's voice across the court giving orders to servants.
+
+"Your father's coming. Remember to-night," I whispered.
+
+"Midnight," she said softly, smiling out at me. I could have faced
+flocks and flocks of dragons for her at that moment. The old man was
+coming nearer. I swung to the ground and escaped into a ruined court.
+
+Well, the hours that followed were anxious and busy for me. I worked in
+the glamour of romance like a soldier about to do some particularly
+brave and foolish thing. From the window of my room I looked down on the
+narrow, giddy wall below. It _was_ a brave and foolish thing. Among the
+rubbish in an old armory I found a coil of stout rope, forty or fifty
+feet of it. This I smuggled away. From a remote hall I borrowed a
+Crusader's helmet and spent the balance of the afternoon in my room
+practicing with a sheet across my shoulders, shroud-fashion.
+
+We dined grandly at eight, the old man and I. He drank thirstily and
+chatted about the ghost, as you might discuss the chances in a coming
+athletic event. After what seemed an age he looked at his watch and
+cried: "Whillikens! Eleven o'clock already! Well, I'll be going up to
+watch from the haunted room. I think, Jeff, that you'll bring me luck
+to-night."
+
+"I am sure I shall!" I answered sardonically, as he departed.
+
+Three quarters of an hour later, wearing the Crusader's helmet and
+swathed in a bedsheet, I let myself down from the window to the haunted
+wall below. It was moonlight, bitter cold as I crouched on the wall,
+waiting for the stroke of twelve, when I should act the spook and walk
+along that precarious ledge to rescue Anita.
+
+The "haunted wall," I observed from where I stood, was shaped like an
+irregular crescent, being in plain view of Hobson's "haunted room" at
+the middle, but not so at its north and south ends, where my chamber and
+Anita's tower were respectively situated. I pulled out my watch from
+under my winding-sheet. Three minutes of twelve. I drew down the vizor
+of my helmet and gathered up my cerements preparatory to walking the
+hundred feet of wall which would bring me in sight of the haunted room
+where old Hobson kept his vigil. Two minutes, one minute I waited,
+when--I suddenly realized I was not alone.
+
+A man wearing a long cloak and a feather in his cap was coming toward me
+along the moonlit masonry. Aha! So I was not the only masquerading swain
+calling on the captive princess in the prison tower. A jealous pang shot
+through me as I realized this.
+
+The man was within twenty feet of me, when I noticed something. He was
+not walking on the wall. _He was walking on air, three or four feet
+above the wall._ Nearer and nearer came the man--the Thing--now into
+the light of the moon, whose beams seemed to strike through his misty
+tissue like the thrust of a sword. I was horribly scared. My knees
+loosened under me, and I clutched the vines at my back to save me from
+falling into the moat below. Now I could see his face, and somehow fear
+seemed to leave me. His expression was so young and human.
+
+"Ghost of the Pierrepont," I thought, "whether you walk in shadow or in
+light, you lived among a race of Men!"
+
+His noble, pallid face seemed to burn with its own pale light, but his
+eyes were in darkness. He was now within two yards of me. I could see
+the dagger at his belt. I could see the gory cut on his forehead. I
+attempted to speak, but my voice creaked like a rusty hinge. He neither
+heeded nor saw me; and when he came to the spot where I stood, he did
+not turn out for me. He walked _through_ me! And when next I saw him he
+was a few feet beyond me, standing in mid-air over the moat and gazing
+up at the high towers like one revisiting old scenes. Again he floated
+toward me and poised on the wall four feet from where I stood.
+
+"What do you here to-night?" suddenly spoke, or seemed to speak, a voice
+that was like the echo of a silence.
+
+No answer came from my frozen tongue. Yet I would gladly have spoken,
+because somehow I felt a great sympathy for this boyish spirit.
+
+"It has been many earth-years," he said, "since I have walked these
+towers. And ah, cousin, it has been many miles that I have been called
+to-night to answer the summons of my race. And this fortress--what power
+has moved it overseas to this mad kingdom? Magic!"
+
+His eyes seemed suddenly to blaze through the shadows.
+
+"Cousin," he again spoke, "it is to you that I come from my far-off
+English tomb. It was your need called me. It is no pious deed brings you
+to this wall to-night. You are planning to pillage these towers
+unworthily, even as I did yesterday. Death was my portion, and broken
+hearts to the father I wronged and the girl I sought."
+
+"But it is the father wrongs the girl here," I heard myself saying.
+
+"He who rules these towers to-day is of stern mind but loving heart,"
+said the ghost. "Patience. By the Star that redeems the world, love
+should not be won _to-night_ by stealth, but by--love."
+
+He raised his hands toward the tower, his countenance radiant with an
+undying passion.
+
+"_She_ called to me and died," he said, "and her little ghost comes not
+to earth again for any winter moon or any summer wind."
+
+"But you--you come often?" my voice was saying.
+
+"No," said the ghost, "only on Christmas Eve. Yule is the tide of
+specters; for then the thoughts of the world are so beautiful that they
+enter our dreams and call us back."
+
+He turned to go, and a boyish, friendly smile rested a moment on his
+pale face.
+
+"Farewell, Sir Geoffray de Pierrepont," he called to me.
+
+Into the misty moonlight the ghost floated to that portion of the wall
+directly opposite the haunted room. From where I stood I could not see
+this chamber. After a moment I shook my numb senses to life. My first
+instinct was one of strong human curiosity, which impelled me to follow
+far enough to see the effect of the apparition on old Hobson, who must
+be watching at the window.
+
+I tiptoed a hundred feet along the wall and peered around a turret up to
+a room above, where Hobson's head could easily be seen in a patch of
+light. The ghost, at that moment, was walking just below, and the effect
+on the old man, appalling though it was, was ludicrous as well. He was
+leaning far out of the window, his mouth wide open; and the entire disk
+of his fat, hairless head was as pallid as the moon itself. The specter,
+who was now rounding the curve of the wall near the tower, swerved
+suddenly, and as suddenly seemed to totter headlong into the abyss
+below. As he dropped, a wild laugh broke through the frosty air. It
+wasn't from the ghost. It came from above--yes, it emanated from
+Thaddeus Hobson, who had, apparently, fallen back, leaving the window
+empty. Lights began breaking out all over the castle. In another moment
+I should be caught in my foolish disguise. With the courage of a coward,
+I turned and ran full tilt along the dizzy ledge and back to my window,
+where I lost no seconds scrambling up the rope that led to my room.
+
+With all possible haste I threw aside my sheet and helmet and started
+downstairs. I had just wrestled with a ghost; I would now have it out
+with the old man. The castle seemed ablaze below. I saw the flash of a
+light skirt in the picture gallery, and Anita, pale as the vision I had
+so lately beheld, came running toward me.
+
+"Father--saw it!" she panted. "He had some sort of sinking spell--he's
+better now--isn't it awful!" She clung to me, sobbing hysterically.
+
+Before I realized what I had done, I was holding her close in my arms.
+
+"Don't!" I cried. "It was a good ghost--he had a finer spirit than mine.
+He came to-night for you, dear, and for me. It was a foolish thing we
+planned."
+
+"Yes, but I wanted, I wanted to go!" she sobbed now crying frankly on my
+shoulder.
+
+"You _are_ going with me," I said fiercely, raising her head. "But not
+over any ghost-ridden breakneck wall. We're going this time through the
+big front door of this old castle, American fashion, and there'll be an
+automobile waiting outside and a parson at the other end of the line."
+
+We found Thaddeus Hobson alone, in the vast hall looking blankly at the
+fire.
+
+"Jeff," he said solemnly, "you sure brought me luck to-night if you can
+call it such being scared into a human icicle. Br-r-r! Shall I ever get
+the cold out of my backbone? But somehow, somehow that foggy feller
+outside sort of changed my look on things. It made me feel _kinder_
+toward living folks. Ain't it strange!"
+
+"Mr. Hobson," I said, "I think the ghost has made us _all_ see things
+differently. In a word, sir, I have a confession to make--if you don't
+mind."
+
+And I told him briefly of my accidental meeting with Anita in the
+donjon, of the practical joke we planned, of our sudden meeting with the
+_real_ ghost on the ramparts. Mr. Hobson listened, his face growing
+redder and redder. At the finish of my story he suddenly leaped to his
+feet and brought his fist down on the table with a bang.
+
+"Well, you little devils!" he said admiringly, and burst into loud
+laughter. "You're a spunky lad, Jeff. And there ain't any doubt that the
+de Pierreponts are as good stuff as you can get in the ancestry
+business. The Christmas supper is spread in the banquet hall. Come, de
+Pierrepont, will you sup with the old Earl?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The huge oaken banquet hall, lined with rich hangings, shrunk us to
+dwarfs by its vastness. Golden goblets were at each place. A butler,
+dressed in antique livery, threw a red cloak over Hobson's fat
+shoulders. It was a whim of the old man's.
+
+As we took our places, I noticed the table was set for four.
+
+"Whose is the extra place?" I asked.
+
+The old man at first made no reply. At last he turned to me earnestly
+and said: "Do you believe in ghosts?"
+
+"No," I replied. "Yet how else can I explain that vision I saw on the
+ramparts?"
+
+"Is the fourth place for him?" Anita almost whispered.
+
+The old man nodded mutely and raised a golden goblet.
+
+"To the Transplanted Ghost!" I said. It was an empty goblet that I
+touched to my lips.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST GHOST IN HARMONY
+
+BY NELSON LLOYD
+
+From _Scribner's Magazine_. Copyright, 1907, by Charles Scribner's Sons.
+By permission of the publishers and Nelson Lloyd.
+
+
+
+
+The Last Ghost in Harmony
+
+BY NELSON LLOYD
+
+
+From his perch on the blacksmith's anvil he spoke between the puffs of
+his post-prandial pipe. The fire in the forge was out and the day was
+going slowly, through the open door of the shop and the narrow windows,
+westward to the mountains. In the advancing shadow, on the pile of
+broken wheels on the work-bench, on keg and barrel, they sat puffing
+their post-prandial pipes and listening.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For a partner in business I want a truthful man, but for a companion
+give me one with imagination. To my mind imagination is the spice of
+life. There is nothing so uninteresting as a fact, for when you know it
+that is the end of it. When life becomes nothing but facts it won't be
+worth living; yet in a few years the race will have no imagination left.
+It is being educated out. Look at the children. When I was young the
+bogey man was as real to me as pa and nearly as much to be feared of,
+but just yesterday I was lectured for merely mentioning him to my neffy.
+So with ghosts. We was taught to believe in ghosts the same as we was in
+Adam or Noar. Nowadays nobody believes in them. It is unscientific, and
+if you are superstitious you are considered ignorant and laughed at.
+Ghosts are the product of the imagination, but if I imagine I see one he
+is as real to me as if he actually exists, isn't he? Therefore he does
+exist. That's logic. You fellows have become scientific and admits only
+what you see and feel, and don't depend on your imagination for
+anything. Such being the case, I myself admit that the sperrits no
+longer ha'nt the burying-ground or play around your houses. I admit it
+because the same condition exact existed in Harmony when I was there,
+and because of what was told me by Robert J. Dinkle about two years
+after he died, and because of what occurred between me and him and the
+Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail.
+
+Harmony was a highly intellectual town. About the last man there with
+any imagination or interesting ideas, excepting me, of course, was
+Robert J. Dinkle. Yet he had an awful reputation, and when he died it
+was generally stated privately that the last landmark of ignorance and
+superstition had been providentially removed. You know he had always
+been seeing things, but we set it down to his fondness for hard cider or
+his natural prepensity for joshing. With him gone there was no one left
+to report the doings of the sperrit-world. In fact, so widespread was
+the light of reason, as the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail called it, that the
+burying-ground became a popular place for moonlight strolls. Even I
+walked through it frequent on my way home from Miss Wheedle's, with
+whom I was keeping company, and it never occurred to me to go any faster
+there, or to look back over my shoulder, for I didn't believe in such
+foolishness. But to the most intellectual there comes times of doubt
+about things they know nothing of nor understand. Such a time come to
+me, when the wind was more mournfuller than usual in the trees, and the
+clouds scudded along overhead, casting peculiar shadders. My imagination
+got the best of my intellect. I hurried. I looked back over my shoulder.
+I shivered, kind of. Natural I see nothing in the burying-ground, yet at
+the end of town I was still uneasy-like, though half laughing at myself.
+It was so quiet; not a light burned anywhere, and the square seemed
+lonelier than the cemetery, and the store was so deserted, so ghostly in
+the moonlight, that I just couldn't keep from peering around at it.
+
+Then, from the empty porch, from the empty bench--empty, I swear, for I
+could see plain, so clear was the night--from absolute nothing come as
+pleasant a voice as ever I hear.
+
+"Hello!" it says.
+
+My blood turned icy-like and the chills waved up and down all through
+me. I couldn't move.
+
+The voice came again, so natural, so familiar, that I warmed some, and
+rubbed my eyes and stared.
+
+There, sitting on the bench, in his favorite place, was the late Robert
+J. Dinkle, gleaming in the moonlight, the front door showing right
+through him.
+
+"I must appear pretty distinct," he says in a proud-like way. "Can't you
+see me very plain?"
+
+See him plain! I should think so. Even the patches on his coat was
+visible, and only for the building behind him, he never looked more
+natural, and hearing him so pleasant, set me thinking. This, says I, is
+the sperrit of the late Robert J. Dinkle. In life he never did me any
+harm and in his present misty condition is likely to do less; if he is
+looking for trouble I'm not afraid of a bit of fog. Such being the case,
+I says, I shall address him as soon as I am able.
+
+But Robert got tired waiting, and spoke again in an anxious tone, a
+little louder, and ruther complaining, "Don't I show up good?" says he.
+
+"I never see you looking better," I answered, for my voice had came
+back, and the chills were quieter, and I was fairly ca'm and dared even
+to move a little nearer.
+
+A bright smile showed on his pale face. "It is a relief to be seen at
+last," he cried, most cheerful. "For years I've been trying to do a
+little ha'nting around here, and no one would notice me. I used to think
+mebbe my material was too delicate and gauzy, but I've conceded that,
+after all, the stuff is not to blame."
+
+He heaved a sigh so natural that I forgot all about his being a ghost.
+Indeed, taken all in all, I see that he had improved, was solemner, had
+a sweeter expression and wasn't likely to give in to his old prepensity
+for joshing.
+
+"Set down and we will talk it over," he went on most winning. "Really, I
+can't do any harm, but please be a little afraid and then I will show up
+distincter. I must be getting dim now."
+
+"You are," says I, for though I was on the porch edging nearer him most
+bold, I could hardly see him.
+
+Without any warning he gave an awful groan that brought the chills
+waving back most violent. I jumped and stared, and as I stared he stood
+out plainer and solider in the moonlight.
+
+"That's better," he said with a jolly chuckle; "now you do believe in
+me, don't you? Well, set there nervous-like, on the edge of the bench
+and don't be too ca'm-like, or I'll disappear."
+
+The ghost's orders were followed explicit. But with him setting there so
+natural and pleasant it was hard to be frightened and more than once I
+forgot. He, seeing me peering like my eyesight was bad, would give a
+groan that made my blood curdle. Up he would flare again, gleaming in
+the moonlight full and strong.
+
+"Harmony's getting too scientific, too intellectual," he said, speaking
+very melancholic. "What can't be explained by arithmetic or geography is
+put down as impossible. Even the preachers encourage such idees and talk
+about Adam and Eve being allegories. As a result, the graveyard has
+become the slowest place in town. You simply can't ha'nt anything
+around here. A man hears a groan in his room and he gets up and closes
+the shutters tighter, or throws a shoe at a rat, or swears at the wind
+in the chimney. A few sperrits were hanging around when I was first
+dead, but they were complaining very bad about the hard times. There
+used to be plenty of good society in the burying-ground, they said, but
+one by one they had to quit. All the old Berrys had left. Mr. Whoople
+retired when he was taken for a white mule. Mrs. Morris A. Klump, who
+once oppyrated 'round the deserted house beyond the mill had gave up in
+disgust just a week before my arrival. I tried to encourage the few
+remaining, explained how the sperritualists were working down the valley
+and would strike town any time, but they had lost all hope--kept fading
+away till only me was left. If things don't turn for the better soon I
+must go, too. It's awful discouraging. And lonely! Why folks ramble
+around the graves like even I wasn't there. Just last night my boy Ossy
+came strolling along with the lady he is keeping company with, and where
+do you s'pose they set down to rest, and look at the moon and talk about
+the silliest subjecks? Right on my headstone! I stood in front of them
+and did the ghostliest things till I was clean tired out and
+discouraged. They just would not pay the least attention."
+
+The poor old ghost almost broke down and cried. Never in life had I
+known him so much affected, and it went right to my heart to see him
+wiping his eyes with his handkercher and snuffling.
+
+"Mebbe you don't make enough noise when you ha'nt," says I most
+sympathetic.
+
+"I do all the regular acts," says he, a bit het up by my remark. "We
+always were kind of limited. I float around and groan, and talk foolish,
+and sometimes I pull off bedclothes or reveal the hiding-place of buried
+treasure. But what good does it do in a town so intellectual as
+Harmony?"
+
+I have seen many folks who were down on their luck, but never one who so
+appealed to me as the late Robert J. Dinkle. It was the way he spoke,
+the way he looked, his general patheticness, his very helplessness, and
+deservingness. In life I had known him well, and as he was now I liked
+him better. So I did want to do something for him. We sat studying for a
+long time, him smoking very violent, blowing clouds of fog outen his
+pipe, me thinking up some way to help him. And idees allus comes to them
+who sets and waits.
+
+"The trouble is partly as you say, Robert," I allowed after a bit, "and
+again partly because you can't make enough noise to awaken the
+slumbering imagination of intellectual Harmony. With a little natural
+help from me though, you might stir things up in this town."
+
+You never saw a gladder smile or a more gratefuller look than that poor
+sperrit gave me.
+
+"Ah," he says, "with your help I could do wonders. Now who'll we begin
+on?"
+
+"The Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail," says I, "has about all the imagination left
+in Harmony--of course excepting me."
+
+Robert's face fell visible. "I have tried him repeated and often," he
+says, kind of argumentative-like. "All the sign he made was to complain
+that his wife talked in her sleep."
+
+I wasn't going to argue--not me. I was all for action, and lost no time
+in starting. Robert J., he followed me like a dog, up through town to
+our house, where I went in, leaving him outside so as not to disturb
+mother. There I got me a hammer and nails with the heavy lead sinker
+offen my fishnet, and it wasn't long before the finest tick-tack you
+ever saw was working against the Spiegelnails' parlor window, with me in
+a lilac-bush operating the string that kept the weight a-swinging.
+Before the house was an open spot where the moon shone full and clear,
+where Robert J. walked up and down, about two feet off the ground,
+waving his arms slow-like and making the melancholiest groans. Now I
+have been to _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ frequent, but in all my life I never
+see such acting. Yet what was the consequences? Up went the window
+above, and the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail showed out plain in the moonlight.
+
+"Who is there?" he called very stern. You had otter see Robert then. It
+was like tonic to him. He rose up higher and began to beat his arms most
+violent and to gurgle tremendous. But the preacher never budged.
+
+"You boys otter be ashamed of yourselves," he says in a severe voice.
+
+"Louder, louder," I calls to Robert J., in answering which he began the
+most awful contortions.
+
+"You can hear me perfectly plain," says the dominie, now kind of
+sad-like. "It fills my old heart with sorrow to see that yous all have
+gone so far astray."
+
+Hearing that, so calm, so distinct, so defiant, made Robert J. stop
+short and stare. To remind him I gave the weight an extra thump, and it
+was so loud as to bring forth Mrs. Spiegelnail, her head showing plain
+as she peered out over the preacher's shoulder. The poor discouraged
+ghost took heart, striking his tragicest attitude, one which he told me
+afterwards was his pride and had been got out of a book. But what was
+the result?
+
+"Does you hear anyone in the bushes, dear?" inquires Mr. Spiegelnail,
+cocking his ears and listening.
+
+"It must be Ossy Dinkle and them bad friends of his," says she, in her
+sour tone.
+
+Poor Robert! Hearing that, he about gave up hope.
+
+"Don't I show up good?" he asks in an anxious voice.
+
+"I can see you distinct," says I, very sharp. "You never looked better."
+
+Down went the window--so sudden, so unexpected that I did not know what
+to make of it. Robert J. thought he did, and over me he came floating,
+most delighted.
+
+"I must have worked," he said, laughing like he'd die, a-doubling up and
+holding his sides to keep from splitting. "At last I have showed up
+distinct; at last I am of some use in the world. You don't realize what
+a pleasure it is to know that you are fulfilling your mission and living
+up to your reputation."
+
+Poor old ghost! He was for talking it all over then and there and
+settled down on a soft bunch of lilacs, and fell to smoking fog and
+chattering. It did me good to see him so happy and I was inclined to
+puff up a bit at my own success in the ha'nting line. But it was not for
+long. The rattle of keys warned us. The front door flew open and out
+bounded the Rev. Mr. Spiegelnail, clearing the steps with a jump, and
+flying over the lawn. All thought of the late Robert J. Dinkle left me
+then, for I had only a few feet start of my pastor. You see I shouldn't
+a-hurried so only I sung bass in the choir and I doubt if I could have
+convinced him that I was working in the interests of Science and Truth.
+Fleeing was instinct. Gates didn't matter. They were took on the wing,
+and down the street I went with the preacher's hot breath on my neck.
+But I beat him. He tired after the first spurt and was soon left behind,
+so I could double back home to bed.
+
+Robert, he was for giving up entirely.
+
+"I simply won't work," says he to me, when I met him on the store porch
+that next night. "A hundred years ago such a bit of ha'nting would have
+caused the town to be abandoned; to-day it is attributed to natural
+causes."
+
+"Because," says I, "we left behind such evidences of material
+manifestations as strings and weights on the parlor window."
+
+"S'pose we work right in the house?" says he, brightening up. "You can
+hide in the closet and groan while I act."
+
+Now did you ever hear anything innocenter than that? Yet he meant it so
+well I did not even laugh.
+
+"I'm too fond of my pastor," I says, "to let him catch me in his closet.
+A far better spot for our work is the short cut he takes home from
+church after Wednesday evening meeting. We won't be so loud, but more
+dignified, melancholier, and tragic. You overacted last night, Robert,"
+I says. "Next time pace up and down like you were deep in thought and
+sigh gentle. Then if he should see you it would be nice to take his arm
+and walk home with him."
+
+I think I had the right idea of ha'nting, and had I been able to keep up
+Robert J. Dinkle's sperrits and to train him regular I could have
+aroused the slumbering imagination of Harmony, and brought life to the
+burying-ground. But he was too easy discouraged. He lacked perseverance.
+For if ever Mr. Spiegelnail was on the point of seeing things it was
+that night as he stepped out of the woods. He had walked slow and
+meditating till he come opposite where I was. Now I didn't howl or
+groan or say anything particular. What I did was to make a noise that
+wasn't animal, neither was it human, nor was it regulation ghostly. As I
+had stated to the late Robert J. Dinkle, what was needed for ha'nting
+was something new and original. And it certainly ketched Mr.
+Spiegelnail's attention. I see him stop. I see his lantern shake. It
+appeared like he was going to dive into the bushes for me, but he
+changed his mind. On he went, quicker, kind as if he wasn't afraid, yet
+was, on to the open, where the moon brought out Robert beautiful as he
+paced slowly up and down, his head bowed like he was studying. Still the
+preacher never saw him, stepped right through him, in fact. I give the
+dreadful sound again. That stopped him. He turned, raised the lantern
+before him, put his hand to his ear, and seemed to be looking intense
+and listening. Hardly ten feet away stood Robert, all a-trembling with
+excitement, but the light that showed through him was as steady as a
+rock, as the dominie watched and listened, so quiet and ca'm. He lowered
+the lantern, rubbed his hands across his eyes, stepped forward and
+looked again. The ghost was perfect. As I have stated, he was excited
+and his sigh shook a little, but he was full of dignity and sadity. He
+shouldn't have lost heart so soon. I was sure then that he almost showed
+up plain to the preacher and he would have grown on Mr. Spiegelnail had
+he kept on ha'nting him instead of giving in because that one night the
+pastor walked on to the house fairly cool. He did walk quicker, I know,
+and he did peer over his shoulder twicet and I did hear the kitchen door
+bang in a relieved way. But when we consider the stuff that ghosts are
+made of we hadn't otter expect them to be heroes. They are too foggy and
+gauzy to have much perseverance--judging at least from Robert J.
+
+"I simply can't work any more," says he, when I came up to him, as he
+sat there in the path, his elbows on his knees, his head on his hands,
+his eyes studying the ground most mournful.
+
+"But Robert----" I began, thinking to cheer him up.
+
+He didn't hear; he wouldn't listen--just faded away.
+
+Had he only held out there is no telling what he might have done in his
+line. Often, since then, have I thought of him and figgered on his
+tremendous possibilities. That he had possibilities I am sure. Had I
+only realized it that last night we went out ha'nting, he never would
+have got away from me. But the realization came too late. It came in
+church the very next Sunday, with the usual announcements after the long
+prayer, as Mr. Spiegelnail was leaning over the pulpit eying the
+congregation through big smoked glasses.
+
+Says he in a voice that was full of sadness: "I regret to announce that
+for the first time in twenty years union services will be held in this
+town next Sabbath." Setting in the choir, reading my music marks, I
+heard the preacher's words and started, for I saw at once that something
+unusual was happening, or had happened, or was about to happen.
+"Unfortunately," said Mr. Spiegelnail, continuing, "I shall have to turn
+my pulpit over to Brother Spiker of the Baptist Church, for my failing
+eyesight renders it necessary that I go at once to Philadelphia, to
+consult an oculist. Some of my dear brethren may think this an unusual
+step, but I should not desert them without cause. They may think,
+perhaps, that I am making much ado about nothing and could be treated
+just as well in Harrisburg. To such let me explain that I am suffering
+from astigmatism. It is not so much that I cannot see, but that I sees
+things which I know are not there--a defect in sight which I feel needs
+the most expert attention. Sunday-school at half-past nine; divine
+service at eleven. I take for my text 'And the old men shall see
+visions.'"
+
+How I did wish the late Robert J. Dinkle could have been in church that
+morning. It would have so gladdened his heart to hear that he had partly
+worked, for if he worked partly, then surely, in time, he would have
+worked complete. For me, I was just wild with excitement, and was so
+busy thinking of him and how glad he would be, that I didn't hear the
+sermon at all, and in planning new ways of ha'nting I forgot to sing in
+the last anthem. You see, I figgered lively times ahead for Harmony--a
+general return to the good old times when folks had imagination and had
+something more in their heads than facts. I had only to get Robert
+again, and with him working it would not be long till all the old Berrys
+and Mrs. Klump showed up distinct and plain. But I wasn't well posted in
+the weak characters of shades, for I thought, of course, I could find my
+sperrit friend easy when night came. Yet I didn't. I set on the store
+porch shivering till the moon was high up over the ridge. He just
+wouldn't come. I called for him soft-like and got no answer. Down to the
+burying-ground I went and set on his headstone. It was the quietest
+place you ever see. The clouds was scudding overhead; the wind was
+sighing among the leaves; and through the trees the moon was gleaming so
+clear and distinct you could almost read the monnyments. It was just a
+night when things should have been lively there--a perfect night for
+ha'nting. I called for Robert. I listened. He never answered. I heard
+only a bull-frog a-bellering in the pond, a whippoor-will whistling in
+the grove, and a dog howling at the moon.
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST OF MISER BRIMPSON
+
+BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
+
+From _Tales of the Tenements_, by Eden Phillpotts. Published in America
+by John Lane Company, and in England by John Murray. By permission of
+the publishers and Eden Phillpotts.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost of Miser Brimpson
+
+BY EDEN PHILLPOTTS
+
+
+I
+
+Penniless and proud he was; and that pair don't draw a man to pleasant
+places when they be in double harness. There's only one thing can stop
+'em if they take the bit between their teeth, and that's a woman. So
+there, you might say, lies the text of the tale of Jonathan Drake, of
+Dunnabridge Farm, a tenement in the Forest of Dartymoor. 'Twas Naboth's
+vineyard to Duchy, and the greedy thing would have given a very fair
+price for it, without a doubt; but the Drake folk held their land, and
+wouldn't part with it, and boasted a freehold of fifty acres in the very
+midst of the Forest. They did well, too, and moved with the times, and
+kept their heads high for more generations than I can call home; and
+then they comed to what all families, whether gentle or simple, always
+come to soon or late. And that's a black sheep for bell-wether. Bad uns
+there'll be in every generation of a race; but the trouble begins when a
+bad un chances to be up top; and if the head of the family is a
+drunkard, or a spendthrift, or built on too free and flowing a pattern
+for this work-a-day shop, then the next generation may look out for
+squalls, as the sailor-men say.
+
+'Twas Jonathan's grandfather that did the harm at Dunnabridge. He had
+sport in his blood, on his mother's side, and 'twas horses ran him into
+trouble. He backed 'em, and was ruined; and then his son bred 'em, and
+didn't do very much better. So, when the pair of 'em dropped out of the
+hunt, and died with their backs to the wall, one after t'other, it
+looked as if the game was up for them to follow. By good chance,
+however, Tom Drake had but one child--a boy--the Jonathan as I be
+telling about; and when his father and grandfather passed away, within a
+year of each other, Dunnabridge was left to Tom's widow and her son, him
+then being twenty-two. She was for selling Dunnabridge and getting away
+from Dartymoor, because the place had used her bad, and she hated the
+sight of it; but Jonathan, a proud chap even then, got the lawyers to
+look into the matter, and they told him that 'twasn't vital for
+Dunnabridge to be sold, though it might ease his pocket, and smooth his
+future to do so, 'specially as Duchy wanted the place rather bad, and
+had offered the value of it. And Jonathan's mother was on the side of
+Duchy, too, and went on her knees to the man to sell; but he wouldn't.
+He had a bee in his bonnet sometimes, and he said that all the Drakes
+would rise out of their graves to Widecombe churchyard, and haunt his
+rising up and going down if he were to do such a thing, just to suit
+his own convenience, and be rid of the place. So he made a plan with the
+creditors. It figured out that his father and grandfather had owed near
+a thousand pound between them; and Jonathan actually set himself to pay
+it off to the last penny. 'Twas the labor of years; but by the time he
+was thirty-three he done it--at what cost of scrimping and screwing,
+only his mother might have told. She never did tell, however, for she
+died two year before the last item was paid. Some went as far as to
+declare that 'twas her son's miserly ways hurried her into her grave;
+and, for all I know, they may have done so, for 'tis certain, in her
+husband's life, she had a better time. Tom was the large-hearted, juicy,
+easy sort, as liked meat on the table, and plenty to wash it down; and
+he loved Mercy Jane Drake very well; and, when he died, the only thought
+that troubled him was leaving her; and the last thing he advised his son
+was to sell Dunnabridge, and take his mother off the Moor down to the
+"in country" where she'd come from.
+
+But Jonathan was made of different stuff, and 'twas rumored by old
+people that had known the family for several generations that he favored
+an ancient forefather by name of Brimpson Drake. This bygone man was a
+miser and the richest of the race. He'd lived in the days when we were
+at war with France and America, and when Princetown sprang up, and a
+gert war-prison was built there to cage all the chaps we got on our
+hands through winning such a lot o' sea battles. And Miser Brimpson was
+said to have made thousands by helping rich fellows to escape from the
+prison. Truth and falsehood mixed made up his story as 'twas handed
+down. But one thing appeared to be fairly true about it; which was, that
+when the miser died, and Dunnabridge went to his cousin, the horseracer,
+not a penny of his fortune ever came into the sight of living men. So
+some said 'twas all nonsense, and he never had no money at all, but only
+pretended to it; and others again, declared that he knew too well who'd
+follow in his shoes at Dunnabridge, and hid his money accordingly, so
+that no Drake should have it. For he hated his heirs as only a miser can
+hate 'em.
+
+So things stood when Mercy Jane died and Jonathan was left alone. He
+paid all his relations' debts, and he had his trouble and the honor of
+being honorable for his pains. Everybody respected him something
+wonderful; but, all the same, a few of his mother's friends always did
+say that 'twas a pity he put his dead father's good name afore his
+living mother's life. However, we'm not built in the pattern of our
+fellow-creatures, and 'tis only fools that waste time blaming a man for
+being himself.
+
+Jonathan went his stern way; and then, in the lonely days after his
+parent was taken, when he lived at Dunnabridge, with nought but two
+hinds and a brace of sheep-dogs, 'twas suddenly borne in upon his narrow
+sight that there might be other women still in the world, though his
+mother had gone out of it. And he also discovered, doubtless, that a
+home without a woman therein be merely the cruel mockery of what a home
+should be.
+
+A good few folk watched Jonathan to see what he'd do about it, and no
+doubt a maiden here and there was interested too; because, though a
+terrible poor man, he wasn't bad to look at, though rather hard about
+the edge of the jaw, and rather short and stern in his manners to human
+creatures and beasts alike.
+
+And then beginned his funny courting--if you can call it courting, where
+a poor man allows hisself the luxury of pride at the wrong time, and
+makes a show of hisself in consequence. At least that's my view; but you
+must know that a good few, quite as wise as me, took t'other side, and
+held that Jonathan covered his name with glory when he changed his mind
+about Hyssop Burges. That was her bitter name, but a pleasanter girl
+never walked on shoe-leather. She was Farmer Stonewer's niece to White
+Works, and he took her in for a charity, and always said that 'twas the
+best day's work as ever he had done. A straight, hardworking, cheerful
+sort of a girl, with nothing to name about her very special save a fine
+shape and a proud way of holding her head in the air and looking her
+fellow creatures in the eyes. Proud she was for certain, and terrible
+partickler as to her friends; but there happened to be that about
+Jonathan that made flint to her steel. He knowed she was penniless, or
+he'd not have looked at her twice; and when, after a short, fierce sort
+of courting, she took him, everybody felt pleased about it but Farmer
+Stonewer, who couldn't abide the thought of losing Hyssop, though his
+wife had warned him any time this four year that 'twas bound to happen.
+
+Farmer and the girl were sitting waiting for Jonathan one night; and she
+was a bit nervous, and he was trying for to calm her.
+
+"Jonathan must be told," she says. "It can't go on no longer."
+
+"Then tell him," says her uncle. "Good powers!" he says; "to see you,
+one would think the news was the worst as could ever fall between a pair
+o' poor lovers, instead of the best."
+
+"I know him a lot better than you," she tells Farmer; "and I know how
+plaguey difficult he can be where money's the matter. He very near
+throwed me over when, in a weak moment, I axed him to let me buy my own
+tokening-ring. Red as a turkey's wattles did he flame, and said I'd
+insulted him; and now, when he hears the secret, I can't for the life of
+me guess how he'll take it."
+
+"'Twas a pity you didn't tell him when he offered for you," declared
+Hyssop's aunt. "Proud he is as a silly peacock, and terrible frightened
+of seeming to look after money, or even casting his eye where it bides;
+but he came to you without any notion of the windfall, and he loved you
+for yourself, like an honest man; and you loved him the same way; and
+right well you know that if your old cousin had left you five thousand
+pound instead of five hundred, Jonathan Drake was the right chap for
+you. He can't blame himself, for not a soul on Dartymoor but us three
+has ever heard tell about the money."
+
+"But he'll blame me for having money at all," answered the girl. "He
+said a dozen times afore he offered for me, that he'd never look at a
+woman if she'd got more cash than what he had himself. That's why I
+couldn't bring myself to confess to it--and lose him. And, after we was
+tokened, it got to be harder still."
+
+"Why not bide till you'm married, then?" asked Mrs. Stonewer. "Since it
+have gone so long, let it go longer, and surprise him with the news on
+the wedding-night--eh, James?"
+
+"No," answered Farmer. "'Enough is as good as a feast.' 'Tis squandering
+blessings to do that at such a time. Keep the news till some rainy day,
+when he's wondering how to get round a tight corner. That's the moment
+to tell him; and that's the moment he's least likely to make a face at
+the news."
+
+But Hyssop wouldn't put it off no more; she said as she'd not have any
+further peace till the murder was out. And that very night, sure enough
+when Jonathan comed over from Dunnabridge for his bit of love-making,
+and the young couple had got the farm parlor to themselves, she plumped
+it out, finding him in a very kindly mood. They never cuddled much, for
+he wasn't built that way; but he'd not disdain to sit beside her and
+put his arm around her now and again, when she picked up his hand and
+drew it round. Then, off and on, she'd rub her cheek against his
+mutton-chop whiskers, till he had to kiss her in common politeness.
+
+Well, Hyssop got it out--Lord alone knows how, as she said afterwards.
+She got it out, and told him that an old, aged cousin had died, and left
+her a nice little skuat[1] of money; and how she'd never touched a penny
+but let it goody in the bank; and how she prayed and hoped 'twould help
+'em to Dunnabridge; and how, of course, he must have the handling of it,
+being a man, and so cruel clever in such things. She went on and on,
+pretty well frightened to stop and hear him. But, after she'd said it
+over about a dozen times, her breath failed her, and she shut her mouth,
+and tried to smile, and looked up terrible anxious and pleading at
+Jonathan.
+
+His hard gray eyes bored into her like a brace of gimlets, and in return
+for all her talk he axed but one question.
+
+"How long have you had this here money?" he said.
+
+She told the truth, faltering and shaking under his glare.
+
+"Four years and upwards, Jonathan."
+
+"That's years and years afore I axed you to marry me?"
+
+"Yes, Jonathan."
+
+"And you remember what I said about never marrying anybody as had more
+than what I have?"
+
+"Yes, Jonathan."
+
+"And you full know how many a time I told you that, after I paid off all
+my father's debts, I had nought left, and 'twould be years afore I could
+build up anything to call money?"
+
+"Yes, Jonathan."
+
+"Very well, then!" he cried out, and his brow crooked down and his fists
+clenched. "Very well, you've deceived me deliberate, and if you'd do
+that in one thing, you would in another. I'm going out of this house
+this instant moment, and you can tell your relations why 'tis. I'm
+terrible sorry, Hyssop Burges, for no man will ever love you better than
+what I did; and so you'd have lived to find out when all this here
+courting tomfoolery was over, and you'd come to be my wife. But now I'll
+have none of you, for you've played with me. And so--so I'll bid you
+good-bye!"
+
+He went straight out without more speech; and she tottered, weeping, to
+her uncle and aunt. They couldn't believe their senses; and Jimmy
+Stonewer declared thereon that any man who could make himself such a
+masterpiece of a fool as Jonathan had done that night, was better out of
+the marriage state than in it. He told Hyssop as she'd had a marvelous
+escape from a prize zany; and his wife said the same. But the girl
+couldn't see it like that. She knowed Jonathan weren't a prize zany,
+and his raging pride didn't anger her, for she admired it something
+wonderful, and it only made her feel her loss all the crueller to see
+what a terrible rare, haughty sort of a chap he was. There were a lot of
+other men would have had her, and twice as many again, if they'd known
+about the money; but they all seemed as tame as robins beside her hawk
+of a Jonathan. She had plenty of devil in her, too, when it came to the
+fighting pitch; and now, while he merely said that the match was broken
+off through a difference of opinion, and gave no reason for it, she set
+to work with all her might to get him back again, and used her
+love-sharpened wits so well as she knew how, to best him into matrimony.
+
+
+II
+
+In truth she made poor speed. Jonathan was always civil afterwards; but
+you might as soon have tried to thaw an iceberg with a box of matches as
+to get him round again by gentleness and affection. He was the sort that
+can't be won with kindness. He felt he'd treated the world better than
+the world had treated him, and the thought shriveled his heart a bit.
+Always shy and suspicious, you might say; and yet, underneath it, the
+most honorable and upright and high-minded man you could wish to meet.
+Hyssop loved him like her life, and she got a bit poorly in health after
+their sad quarrel. Then chance willed it that, going down from
+Princetown to Plymouth by train--to see a chemist, and get something to
+make her eat--who should be in the selfsame carriage but Mr. Drake and
+his hind, Thomas Parsons.
+
+There was others there, too; and it fell out that an old fellow as
+knowed Jonathan's grandfather before him, brought up the yarn about
+Miser Brimpson, and asked young Drake if he took any stock in it.
+
+Of course the man pooh-poohed such foolery, and told the old chap not to
+talk nonsense like that in the ear of the nineteenth century; but when
+Jonathan and Parsons had got out of the train--which they did do at
+Yelverton station--Hyssop, as knowed the old man, axed him to tell more
+about the miser; and he explained, so well as he knew how, that Brimpson
+Drake had made untold thousands out of the French and American
+prisoners, and that, without doubt, 'twas all hidden even to this day at
+Dunnabridge.
+
+"Of course Jonathan's too clever to believe such a tale--like his father
+before him; but his grandfather believed it, and the old blid spent half
+his time poking about the farm. Only, unfortunately, he didn't have no
+luck. But 'tis there for sure; and if Jonathan had enough faith he'd
+come by it--not by digging and wasting time and labor, but by doing what
+is right and proper when you'm dealing with such matters."
+
+"And what might that be?" axed Miss Burges.
+
+Just then, however, the train for Plymouth ran up, and the old man told
+her that he'd explain some other time.
+
+"This generation laughs at such things," he said; "but they laugh best
+who laugh last, and, for all we can say to the contrary, 'tis nought but
+his conceit and pride be standing between that stiff-necked youth and
+the wealth of a bank."
+
+Hyssop, she thought a lot upon this; but she hadn't no need to go to the
+old chap again, as she meant to do, for when she got home, her
+uncle--Farmer Stonewer--knowed all about the matter, and told her how
+'twas a very rooted opinion among the last generation that a miser's
+spirit never could leave its hidden hoard till the stuff was brought to
+light, and in human hands once more.
+
+"Millions of good money has been found in that manner, if all we hear is
+true," declared Farmer Jimmy; "and if one miser has been known to walk,
+which nobody can deny, then why shouldn't another? Them as believe in
+such dark things--and I don't say I do, and I don't say I don't--them as
+know of such mysteries happening in their own recollection, or in the
+memory of their friends, would doubtless say that Miser Brimpson still
+creeps around his gold now and again; and if that money be within the
+four corners of Dunnabridge Farm, and if Jonathan happed to be on the
+lookout on the rightful night and at the rightful moment, 'tis almost
+any odds but he might see his forbear sitting over his money-bags like a
+hen on a clutch of eggs, and so recover the hoard."
+
+"But faith's needed for such a deed," Mrs. Stonewer told her niece; "and
+that pig-headed creature haven't no faith. Too proud, he is, to believe
+in anything he don't understand. 'Twas even so with Lucifer afore him.
+If you told him--Jonathan--this news, he'd rather let the money go than
+set off ghost-hunting in cold blood. Yet there it is: and a
+humbler-minded fashion of chap, with the Lord on his side, and a
+trustful heart in his bosom, might very like recover all them tubs of
+cash the miser come by."
+
+"And then he'd have thousands to my poor tens," said Hyssop. "Not that
+he'd ever come back to me now, I reckon."
+
+But, all the same, she knowed by the look in Jonathan's eye when they
+met, that he loved her still, and that his silly, proud heart was
+hungering after her yet, though he'd rather have been drawn under a
+harrow than show a spark of what was burning there.
+
+And so, upon this nonsense about a buried treasure she set to work again
+to use her brains, and see if there might be any road out of the trouble
+by way of Miser Brimpson's ghost.
+
+What she did, none but them as helped her ever knew, until the story
+comed round to me; but 'twas the cleverest thing that ever I heard of a
+maiden doing, and it worked a wonder. In fact, I can't see but a single
+objection to the plot, though that was a serious thing for the girl. It
+lay in the fact that there had to be a secret between Hyssop and her
+husband; and she kept it close as the grave until the grave itself
+closed over him. Yet 'twas an innocent secret, too; and, when all's
+said, 'tisn't a wedded pair in five hundred as haven't each their one
+little cupboard fast locked, with the key throwed away.
+
+Six months passed by, and Jonathan worked as only he knowed how to work,
+and tried to forget his sad disappointment by dint of toil. Early and
+late he labored, and got permission to reclaim a bit of moor for a
+"newtake," and so added a very fair three acres to his farm. He noticed
+about this time that his hind, Parsons, did oft drag up the subject of
+Miser Brimpson Drake; and first Jonathan laughed, and then he was
+angered, and bade Thomas hold his peace. But, though a very obedient and
+humble sort of man, Parsons would hark back to the subject, and tell how
+his father had known a man who was own brother to a miser; and how, when
+the miser died, his own brother had seen him clear as truth in the
+chimley-corner of his room three nights after they'd buried him; and how
+they made search, and found, not three feet from where the ghost had
+stood, a place in the wall with seventeen golden sovereigns hid in it,
+and a white witch's cure for glanders. Thomas Parsons swore on the Book
+to this; and he said, as a certain fact, that New Year's Night was the
+time most misers walked; and he advised Jonathan not to be dead to his
+own interests.
+
+"At least, as a thinking man, that believes in religion and the powers
+of the air, in Bible word, you might give it a chance," said Thomas; and
+then Jonathan told him to shut his mouth, and not shame Dunnabridge by
+talking such childish nonsense.
+
+The next autumn Jonathan went up beyond Exeter to buy some of they
+black-faced, horned Scotch sheep, and he wanted for Parsons to go with
+him; but his man falled ill the night afore, and so young Hacker went
+instead.
+
+Drake reckoned then that Thomas Parsons would have to leave, for
+Dunnabridge weren't a place for sick folk; and he'd made up his mind
+after he came back to turn the old chap off; but Thomas was better when
+the master got home, so the question of sacking him was let be, and
+Jonathan contented himself by telling Tom that, if he falled ill again,
+'twould be the last time. And Parsons said that was as it should be; but
+he hoped that at his age--merely sixty-five or thereabout--he wouldn't
+be troubled with his breathing parts again for half a score o' years at
+least. He added that he'd done his work as usual while the master was
+away; but he didn't mention that Hyssop Burges had made so bold as to
+call at Dunnabridge with a pony and cart, and that she'd spent a tidy
+long time there, and gone all over the house and farmyard, among other
+places, afore she drove off again.
+
+And the next chapter of the story was told by Jonathan himself to his
+two men on the first day of the following year.
+
+There was but little light of morning just then, and the three of 'em
+were putting down some bread and bacon and a quart of tea by candlelight
+in the Dunnabridge kitchen, when Thomas saw that his master weren't
+eating nothing to name. Instead, he went out to the barrel and drawed
+himself a pint of ale, and got along by the peat fire with it, and stuck
+his boots so nigh the scads as he dared without burning 'em.
+
+"What's amiss?" said Thomas. "Don't say you'm sick, master. And if you
+be, I lay no liquor smaller than brandy will fetch you round."
+
+"I ban't sick," answered Jonathan shortly.
+
+He seemed in doubt whether to go on. Then he resolved to do so.
+
+"There was a man in the yard last night," he said; "and, if I thought as
+either of you chaps knowed anything about it, I'd turn you off this
+instant, afore you'd got the bacon out of your throats."
+
+"A man? Never!" cried Parsons.
+
+"How was it the dog didn't bark?" asked Hacker.
+
+"How the devil do I know why he didn't bark?" answered Jonathan, dark as
+night, and staring in the fire. One side of his face was red with the
+flames, and t'other side blue as steel along of the daylight just
+beginning to filter in at the window.
+
+"All I can say is this," he added. "I turned in at half-after ten, just
+after that brace of old fools to Brownberry went off to see the New Year
+in. I slept till midnight; then something woke me with a start. What
+'twas, I can't tell, but some loud sound near at hand, no doubt. I was
+going off again when I heard more row--a steady sound repeated over and
+over. And first I thought 'twas owls; and then I heard 'twas not. You
+might have said 'twas somebody thumping on a barrel; but, at any rate, I
+woke up, and sat up, and found the noise was in the yard.
+
+"I looked out of my chamber window then, and the moon was bright as day,
+and the stars sparkling likewise; and there, down by 'the Judge's Table'
+where the thorn-tree grows, I see a man standing by the old barrel as
+plain as I see you chaps now."
+
+"The Judge's Table" be a wonnerful curiosity at Dunnabridge, and if you
+go there you'll do well to ax to see it. 'Tis a gert slab of moorstone
+said to have come from Crokern Torr, where the tinners held theer
+parliament in the ancient times. Now it bides over a water-trough with a
+white-thorn tree rising up above.
+
+Jonathan took his breath when he'd got that far, and fetched his pipe
+out of his pocket and lighted it. Then he drank off half the beer, and
+spat in the fire, and went on.
+
+"A man so tall as me, if not taller. He'd got one of them old white
+beaver hats on his head, and he wore a flowing white beard, so long as
+my plough-horse's tail, and he walked up and down, up and down over the
+stones, like a sailor walks up and down on the deck of a ship. I shouted
+to the chap, but he didn't take no more notice than the moon. Up and
+down he went; and then I told him, if he wasn't off inside two minutes,
+I'd get my fowling-piece and let fly. Still he paid no heed; and I don't
+mind saying to you men that, for half a second, I felt creepy-crawly and
+goose-flesh down the back. But 'twas only the cold, I reckon, for my
+window was wide open, and I'd been leaning out of it for a good while
+into ten degrees of frost.
+
+"After that, I got angry, and went down house and hitched the gun off
+the hooks over the mantelpiece, and ran out, just as I was, in nought
+but my boots and my nightshirt. The hour was so still as the grave at
+first, and the moon shone on the river far below and lit up the eaves
+and windows; and then, through the silence, I heard Widecombe bells
+ringing in the New Year. But the old night-bird in his top hat was gone.
+Not a hair of his beard did he leave behind. I looked about, and then up
+came the dog, barking like fury, not knowing who I was, dressed that
+way, till he heard my voice. And that's the tale; and who be that
+curious old rascal I'd much like to know."
+
+They didn't answer at first, and the daylight gained on 'em. Then old
+Parsons spoke up, and wagged his head and swore that 'twas no man his
+master had seen, but a creature from the other world.
+
+"I'll lay my life," he said, "'twas the spectrum of Miser Brimpson as
+you saw walking; and I'll take oath by the New Year that 'twas his way
+to show where his stuff be buried. For God's sake," he says, "if you
+don't want to get into trouble with unknown creatures, go out and pull
+up the cobblestones, and see if there's anything underneath 'em."
+
+But Jonathan made as though the whole thing was nonsense, and wouldn't
+let neither Thomas nor Hacker move a pebble. Only, the next day, he went
+off to a very old chap called Samuel Windeatt, whose father had been a
+boy at the time of the War Prison, and was said to have seen and known
+Miser Brimpson in the flesh. And the old man declared that, in his
+childish days, he'd heard of the miser, and that he certainly wore a
+beaver hat and had a white beard a yard long. So Jonathan came home
+again more thoughtful than afore, and finally--though he declared that
+he was ashamed to do it--he let Tom overpersuade him; and two days after
+the three men set to work where Drake had seen the spectrum.
+
+They dug and they dug, this way and that; and Jonathan found nought, and
+Parsons found nought; but Hacker came upon a box, and they dragged it
+out of the earth, and underneath of it was another box like the first.
+They was a pair of old rotten wood chests, by the look of them, made of
+boards nailed together with rusty nails. No locks or keys they had; but
+that was no matter, for they fell abroad at a touch, and inside of them
+was a lot of plate--candlesticks, snuffers, tea-kettles, table silver,
+and the like.
+
+"Thunder!" cried out Jonathan. "'Tis all pewter trash, not worth a
+five-pound note! Us'll dig again."
+
+And dig they did for a week, till the farmyard in that place was turned
+over like a trenched kitchen-garden. But not another teaspoon did they
+find.
+
+Meantime, however, somebody as understood such things explained to young
+Drake that the stuff unearthed was not pewter, nor yet Britannia metal
+neither, but old Sheffield plate, and worth plenty of good money at
+that.
+
+Jonathan felt too mazed with the event to do anything about it for a
+month; then he went to Plymouth, and took a few pieces of the find in
+his bag. And the man what he showed 'em to was so terrible interested
+that nothing would do but he must come up to Dunnabridge and see the
+lot. He offered two hundred and fifty pound for the things on the nail;
+so Jonathan saw very clear that they must be worth a good bit more. They
+haggled for a week, and finally the owner went up to Exeter and got
+another chap to name a price. In the long run, the dealers halved the
+things, and Jonathan comed out with a clear three hundred and fifty-four
+pound.
+
+
+III
+
+He wasn't very pleased to talk about his luck, and inquisitive people
+got but little out of him on the subject; but, of course, Parsons and
+Hacker spoke free and often on the subject, for 'twas the greatest
+adventure as had ever come to them in their lives; and, from telling the
+tale over and over old Parsons got to talk about it as if he'd seen the
+ghost himself.
+
+Then, after he'd chewed over the matter for a space of three or four
+months, and spring was come again, Jonathan Drake went off one night to
+White Works, just the same as he used to do when he was courting Hyssop
+Burges; and there was the little party as usual, with Mrs. Stonewer
+knitting, and Farmer reading yesterday's newspaper, and Hyssop sewing in
+her place by her aunt.
+
+"Well!" says Farmer Jimmy, "wonders never cease! And to see you again
+here be almost so big a wonder as that they tell about of the old
+miser's tea-things. I'm sure we all give you joy, Jonathan; and I
+needn't tell you as we was cruel pleased to hear about it."
+
+The young man thanked them very civilly, and said how 'twas a coorious
+come-along-of-it, and he didn't hardly know what to think of the matter
+even to that day.
+
+"I should reckon 'twas a bit of nonsense what I'd dreamed," he said;
+"but money's money, as who should know better than me? And, by the same
+token, I want a few words with Hyssop if she'm willing to give me ten
+minutes of her time."
+
+"You'm welcome, Mr. Drake," she said.
+
+He started at the surname; but she got up, and they went off just in
+the usual way to the parlor; and when they was there, she sat down in
+her old corner of the horsehair sofa and looked at him. But he didn't
+sit down--not at first. He walked about fierce and talked fierce.
+
+"I'll ax one question afore I go on, and, if the answer's what I fear,
+I'll trouble you no more," he said. "In a word, be you tokened again? I
+suppose you be, for you're not the sort to go begging. Say it quick if
+'tis so, and I'll be off and trouble you no further."
+
+"No, Mr. Drake. I'm free as the day you--you throwed me over," she
+answered, in a very quiet little voice.
+
+He snorted at that, but was too mighty thankful to quarrel with the
+words. She could see he began to grow terrible excited now; and he
+walked up and down, taking shorter and shorter strides this way and
+that, like a hungry caged tiger as knows his bit of horse-flesh be on
+the way.
+
+At last he bursts out again.
+
+"There was a lot of lies told about that old plate us found at
+Dunnabridge. But the truth of the matter is, that I sold it for three
+hundred and fifty-four pounds."
+
+"So Tom Parsons told uncle. A wonderful thing; and we sat up all night
+talking about it, Mr. Drake."
+
+"For God's sake call me 'Jonathan'!" he cried out; "and tell me--tell me
+what the figure of your legacy was. You must tell me--you can't withhold
+it. 'Tis life or death--to me."
+
+She'd never seen him so excited, but very well knowed what was in his
+mind.
+
+"If you must know, you must," she answered. "I thought I told you
+when--when----"
+
+"No, you didn't. I wouldn't bide to hear. Whatever 'twas, you'd got more
+than me, and that was all I cared about; but now, if by good fortune
+'tis less than mine, you understand----"
+
+"Of course 'tis less. A hundred and eighty pound and the interest--a
+little over two hundred in all--is what I've gotten."
+
+"Thank God!" he said.
+
+Then he axed her if she could marry him still, or if she knew too much
+about his ways and his ideas to care about doing so.
+
+And she took him again.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+You see, Hyssop Burges was my mother, and when father died I had the
+rights of the story from her. By that time the old people at White Works
+and Tom Parsons was all gone home, and the secret remained safe enough
+with Hyssop herself.
+
+The great difficulty was to put half her money and more, slap into
+Jonathan's hands without his knowing how it got there; and, even when
+the game with the ghost was hit upon, 'twas hard to know how to do it
+clever. Hyssop wanted to hide golden sovereigns at Dunnabridge; but her
+uncle, with wonnerful wit, pointed out that they'd all be dated; and to
+get three hundred sovereigns and more a hundred years old could never
+have been managed. Then old Thomas, who was in the secret, of course,
+and played the part of Miser Brimpson, and got five pounds for doing it
+so clever, and another five after from his master, when the stuff was
+found--he thought upon trinkums and jewels; and finally Mrs. Stonewer,
+as had a friend in the business, said that Sheffield plate would do the
+trick. And she was right. The plate was bought for three hundred and
+eighty pound, and kept close at White Works till 'twas known that
+Jonathan meant to go away and bide away some days. Then my mother drove
+across with it; and Thomas made the cases wi' old rotten boards, and
+they drove a slant hole under the cobbles, and got all vitty again long
+afore young Drake came back home.
+
+"Me and Jonathan was wedded in the fall of that year," said my mother to
+me when she told the tale. "And, come the next New Year's Night, he was
+at our chamber window as the clock struck twelve, and bided there
+looking out into the yard for an hour, keen as the hawk that he was. He
+thought I must be asleep; but well I knowed he was seeking for an old
+man in a beaver hat wi' a long white beard, and well I knowed he'd never
+see him again. Of course your father took good care not to tell me the
+next morning that he'd been on the lookout for the ghost."
+
+And my mother, in her own last days, oft dwelt on that trick; and
+sometimes she'd say, as the time for meeting father got nearer and
+nearer, "I wonder if 'twill make any difference in heaven, where no
+secrets be hid?" And, knowing father so well as I had, I felt very sure
+as it might make a mighty lot of difference. So, in my crafty way, I
+hedged, and told mother that, for my part, I felt sartain there were
+some secrets that wouldn't even be allowed to come out at Judgment Day,
+for fear of turning heaven into t'other place; and that this was one of
+'em. She always used to fret at that, however.
+
+"I want for it to come out," she'd say. "And, if Jonathan don't know, I
+shall certainly tell him. I've kept it in long enough, and I can't trust
+myself to do it no more. He've got to know, and, with all eternity to
+get over it and forgive me in, I have a right to be hopeful that he
+will."
+
+Hyssop Drake died in that fixed resolve; and I'm sure I trust that, when
+'tis my turn to join my parents again, I shall find no shadow between
+'em. But there's a lot of doubt about it--knowing father.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[1] Skuat, windfall.
+
+
+
+
+THE HAUNTED PHOTOGRAPH
+
+BY RUTH McENERY STUART
+
+From _Harper's Bazar_, June, 1909. By permission of _Harper's Bazar_.
+
+
+
+
+The Haunted Photograph
+
+BY RUTH McENERY STUART
+
+
+To the ordinary observer it was just a common photograph of a cheap
+summer hotel. It hung sumptuously framed in plush, over the Widow
+Morris's mantel, the one resplendent note in an otherwise modest home,
+in a characteristic Queen Anne village.
+
+One had only to see the rapt face of its owner as she sat in her weeds
+before the picture, which she tearfully pronounced "a strikin'
+likeness," to sympathize with the townsfolk who looked askance at the
+bereaved woman, even while they bore with her delusion, feeling sure
+that her sudden sorrow had set her mind agog.
+
+When she had received the picture through the mail, some months before
+the fire which consumed the hotel--a fire through which she had not
+passed, but out of which she had come a widow--she proudly passed it
+around among the friends waiting with her at the post-office, replying
+to their questions as they admired it:
+
+"Oh, yes! That's where he works--if you can call it work. He's the head
+steward in it. All that row o' winders where you see the awnin's down,
+they're his--an' them that ain't down, they're his, too--that is to say,
+it's his jurisdiction.
+
+"You see, he's got the whip hand over the cook an' the sto'eroom, an'
+that key don't go out o' his belt unless he knows who's gettin'
+what--an' he's firm. Morris always was. He's like the iron law of the
+Ephesians."
+
+"What key?"
+
+It was an old lady who held the picture at arm's length, the more
+closely to scan it, who asked the question. She asked it partly to know,
+as neither man nor key appeared in the photograph, and partly to parry
+the "historic allusion"--a disturbing sort of fire for which Mrs. Morris
+was rather noted and which made some of her most loyal townsfolk a bit
+shy of her.
+
+"Oh, I ain't referrin' to the picture," she hastened to explain. "I mean
+the keys thet he always carries in his belt. The reg'lar joke there is
+to call him 'St. Peter,' an' he takes it in good part, for, he declares,
+if there _is_ such a thing _as_ a similitude to the kingdom o' Heaven
+_in_ a hotel, why, it's in the providential supply department which, in
+a manner, hangs to his belt. He always humors a joke--'specially on
+himself."
+
+No one will ever know through what painful periods of unrequited longing
+the Widow Morris had sought solace in this, her only cherished "relic,"
+after the "half hour of sky-works" which had made her, in her own
+vernacular, "a lonely, conflagrated widow, with a heart full of ashes,"
+before the glad moment when it was given her to discern in it an
+unsuspected and novel value. First had come, as a faint gleam of
+comfort, the reflection that although her dear lost one was not in
+evidence in the picture, he had really been inside the building when the
+photograph was taken, and so, of course, _he must be in there yet_!
+
+At first she experienced a slight disappointment that her man was not
+visible, at door or window. But it was only a passing regret. It was
+really better to feel him surely and broadly within--at large in the
+great house, free to pass at will from one room to another. To have had
+him fixed, no matter how effectively, would have been a limitation. As
+it was, she pressed the picture to her bosom as she wondered if,
+perchance, he would not some day come out of his hiding to meet her.
+
+It was a muffled pleasure and tremulously entertained at first, but the
+very whimsicality of it was an appeal to her sensitized imagination, and
+so, when finally the thing did really happen, it is small wonder that it
+came somewhat as a shock.
+
+It appears that one day, feeling particularly lonely and forlorn, and
+having no other comfort, she was pressing her tear-stained face against
+the row of window-shutters in the room without awnings, this being her
+nearest approach to the alleged occupant's bosom, when she was suddenly
+startled by a peculiar swishing sound, as of wind-blown rain, whereupon
+she lifted her face to perceive that it was indeed raining, and then,
+glancing back at the photograph, she distinctly saw her husband rushing
+from one window to another, drawing down the sashes on the side of the
+house that would have been exposed to the real shower whose music was in
+her ears.
+
+This was a great discovery, and, naturally enough, it set her weeping,
+for, she sobbed, it made her feel, for a minute, that she had lost her
+widowhood and that, after the shower, he'd be coming home.
+
+It might well make any one cry to suddenly lose the pivot upon which his
+emotions are swung. At any rate, Mrs. Morris cried. She said that she
+cried all night, first because it seemed so spooky to see him whose
+remains she had so recently buried on faith, waiving recognition in the
+debris, dashing about now in so matter-of-fact a way.
+
+And then she wept because, after all, he did not come.
+
+This was the formal beginning of her sense of personal companionship in
+the picture--companionship, yes, of delight in it, for there is even
+delight in tears--in some situations in life. Especially is this true of
+one whose emotions are her only guides, as seems to have been the case
+with the Widow Morris.
+
+After seeing him draw the window-sashes--and he had drawn them _down_,
+ignoring her presence--she sat for hours, waiting for the rain to stop.
+It seemed to have set in for a long spell, for when she finally fell
+asleep, "from sheer disappointment, 'long towards morning," it was
+still raining, but when she awoke the sun shone and all the windows in
+the picture were up again.
+
+This was a misleading experience, however, for she soon discovered that
+she could not count upon any line of conduct by the man in the hotel, as
+the fact that it had one time rained in the photograph at the same time
+that it rained outside was but a coincidence and she was soon surprised
+to perceive all quiet along the hotel piazza, not even an awning
+flapping, while the earth, on her plane, was torn by storms.
+
+On one memorable occasion when her husband had appeared, flapping the
+window-panes from within with a towel, she had thought for one brief
+moment that he was beckoning to her, and that she might have to go to
+him, and she was beginning to experience terror, with shortness of
+breath and other premonitions of sudden passing, when she discovered
+that he was merely killing flies, and she flurriedly fanned herself with
+the asbestos mat which she had seized from the stove beside her, and
+staggered out to a seat under the mulberries, as she stammered:
+
+"I do declare, Morris'll be the death of me yet. He's 'most as much care
+to me dead as he was alive--I made sure--made sure he'd come after me!"
+
+Then, feeling her own fidelity challenged, she hastened to add:
+
+"Not that I hadn't rather go to him than to take any trip in the world,
+but--but I never did fancy that hotel, and since I've got used to seein'
+him there so constant, I feel sure that's where we'd put up. My belief
+is, anyway, that if there's hereafters for some things, there's
+hereafters for all. From what I can gather, I reckon I'm a kind of a
+cross between a Swedenborgian and a Gates-ajar--that, of course,
+engrafted on to a Methodist. Now, that hotel, when it was consumed by
+fire, which to it was the same as mortal death, why, it either ascended
+into Heaven, in smoke, or it fell, in ashes--to the other place. If it
+died worthy, like as not it's undergoin' repairs now for a 'mansion,'
+jasper cupalos, an'--but, of course, such as that could be run up in a
+twinklin'.
+
+"Still, from what I've heard, it's more likely gone _down_ to its
+deserts. It would seem hard for a hotel with so many awned-off corridors
+an' palmed embrasures with teet-a-teet sofas, to live along without
+sin."
+
+She stood on her step-ladder, wiping the face of the picture as she
+spoke, and as she began to back down she discovered the cat under her
+elbow, glaring at the picture.
+
+"Yes, Kitty! Spit away!" she exclaimed. "Like as not you see even more
+than I do!"
+
+And as she slipped the ladder back into the closet, she remarked--this
+to herself, strictly:
+
+"If it hadn't 'a' been for poor puss, I'd 'a' had a heap more pleasure
+out o' this picture than what I have had--or will be likely to have
+again. The way she's taken on, I've almost come to hate it!"
+
+A serpent had entered her poor little Eden--even the green-eyed monster
+constrictor, who, if given full swing, would not spare a bone of her
+meager comfort.
+
+A neighbor who chanced to come in at the time, unobserved overheard the
+last remark, and Mrs. Morris, seeing that she was there, continued in an
+unchanged tone, while she gave her a chair:
+
+"Of course, Mis' Withers, you can easy guess who I refer to. I mean that
+combly-featured wench that kep' the books an' answered the telephone at
+the hotel--when she found the time from her meddlin'. Somehow, I never
+thought about her bein' _burned in_ with Morris till puss give her away.
+Puss never did like the girl when she was alive, an' the first time I
+see her scratch an' spit at the picture, just the way she used to do
+whenever _she_ come in sight, why, it just struck me like a clap o'
+thunder out of a clear sky that puss knew who she was a-spittin' at--an'
+I switched around sudden--an' glanced up sudden--an'----
+
+"Well, what I seen, I seen! There was that beautied-up typewriter
+settin' in the window-sill o' Morris's butler's pantry--an' if she
+didn't wink at me malicious, then I don't know malice when I see it. An'
+she used her fingers against her nose, too, most defiant and impolite.
+So I says to puss I says, 'Puss,' I says, 'there's _goin's on_ in that
+hotel, sure as fate. Annabel Bender has got the better o' me, for
+once!' An', tell the truth, it did spoil the photograph for me for a
+while, for, of course, after that, if I didn't see him somewheres on the
+watch for his faithful spouse, I'd say to myself, 'He's inside there
+with that pink-featured hussy!'
+
+"You know, a man's a man, Mis' Withers--'specially Morris, an' with his
+lawful wife cut off an' indefinitely divorced by a longevitied
+family--an' another burned in with him--well, his faithfulness is put to
+a trial by fire, as you might say. So, as I say, it spoiled the picture
+for me, for a while.
+
+"An', to make matters worse, it wasn't any time before I recollected
+that Campbellite preacher thet was burned in with them, an' with that my
+imagination run riot, an' I'd think to myself, '_If_ they're inclined,
+they cert'n'y have things handy!' Then I'd ketch myself an' say,
+'Where's your faith in Scripture, Mary Marthy Matthews, named after two
+Bible women an' born daughter to an apostle? What's the use?' I'd say,
+an' so, first an' last, I'd get a sort o' alpha an' omega comfort out o'
+the passage about no givin' in marriage. Still, there'd be times, pray
+as I would, when them three would loom up, him an' her--_an'_ the
+Campbellite preacher. I know his license to marry would run out _in
+time_, but for eternity, of course we don't know. Seem like everything
+would last forever--an' then again, if I've got a widow's freedom,
+Morris must be classed as a widower, if he's anything.
+
+"Then I'd get some relief in thinkin' about his disposition. Good as he
+was, Morris was fickle-tasted, not in the long run, but day in an' day
+out, an' even if he'd be taken up with her he'd get a distaste the
+minute he reelized she'd be there interminable. That's Morris. Why,
+didn't he used to get nervous just seein' _me_ around, an' me his own
+selected? An' didn't I use to make some excuse to send him over to Mame
+Maddern's ma's ma's--so's he'd be harmlessly diverted? She was full o'
+talk, and she was ninety-odd an' asthmatic, but he'd come home from them
+visits an' call me his child wife. I've had my happy moments!
+
+"You know a man'll get tired of himself, even, if he's condemned to it
+too continual, and think of that blondinetted typewriter for a steady
+diet--to a man like Morris! Imagine her when her hair dye started to
+give out--green streaks in that pompadour! So, knowin' my man, I'd take
+courage an' I'd think, 'Seein' me cut off, he'll soon be wantin' me more
+than ever'--an' so he does. It's got so now that, glance up at that
+hotel any time I will, I can generally find him on the lookout, an'
+many's the time I've stole in an' put on a favoryte apron o' his with
+blue bows on it, when we'd be alone an' nobody to remark about me
+breakin' my mournin'. Dear me, how full o' b'oyancy he was--a regular
+boy at thirty-five, when he passed away!"
+
+Was it any wonder that her friends exchanged glances while Mrs. Morris
+entertained them in so droll a way? Still, as time passed and she not
+only brightened in the light of her delusion, but proceeded to meet the
+conditions of her own life by opening a small shop in her home, and when
+she exhibited a wholesome sense of profit and loss, her neighbors were
+quite ready to accept her on terms of mental responsibility.
+
+With occupation and a modest success, emotional disturbance was surely
+giving place to an even calm, when, one day, something happened.
+
+Mrs. Morris sat behind her counter, sorting notions, puss asleep beside
+her, when she heard the swish of thin silk, with a breath of familiar
+perfume, and, looking up, whom did she see but the blond lady of her
+troubled dreams striding bodily up to the counter, smiling as she
+swished.
+
+At the sight the good woman first rose to her feet, and then as suddenly
+dropped--flopped--breathless and white--backward--and had to be revived,
+so that for the space of some minutes things happened very fast--that
+is, if we may believe the flurried testimony of the blonde, who, in
+going over it, two hours later, had more than once to stop for breath.
+
+"Well, say!" she panted. "Did you ever! _Such_ a turn as took her! I
+hadn't no more 'n stepped in the door when she succumbed, green as the
+Ganges, into her own egg-basket--an' it full! An' she was on the eve o'
+floppin' back into the prunin' scizzor points up, when I scrambled over
+the counter, breakin' my straight-front in two, which she's welcome to,
+poor thing! Then I loaned her my smellin'-salts, which she held her
+breath against until it got to be a case of smell or die, an' she
+smelt! Then it was a case of temporary spasms for a minute, the salts
+spillin' out over her face, but when the accident evaporated, an' she
+opened her eyes, rational, I thought to myself, 'Maybe she don't know
+she's keeled an' would be humiliated if she did,' so I acted callous,
+an' I says, offhand like, I says, pushin' her apron around behind her
+over its _vice versa_, so's to cover up the eggs, which I thought had
+better be broke to her gently, I says, 'I just called in, Mis' Morris,
+to borry your recipe for angel-cake--or maybe get you to bake one for
+us' (I knew she baked on orders). An' with that, what does she do but go
+over again, limp as wet starch, down an' through every egg in that
+basket, solid _an'_ fluid!
+
+"Well, by this time, a man who had seen her at her first worst an' run
+for a doctor, he come in with three, an' whilst they were bowin' to each
+other an' backin', I giv' 'er stimulus an' d'rectly she turned upon me
+one rememberable gaze, an' she says, 'Doctors,' says she, 'would you
+think they'd have the gall to try to get me to cook for 'em? They've
+ordered angel-ca----' An' with that, over she toppled again, no pulse
+nor nothin', same as the dead!"
+
+While the blonde talked she busied herself with her loosely falling
+locks, which she tried vainly to entrap.
+
+"An' yet you say she ain't classed as crazy? I'd say it of her, sure!
+An' so old Morris is dead--burned in that old hotel! Well, well! Poor
+old fellow! Dear old place! What times I've had!"
+
+She spoke through a mouthful of gilt hairpins and her voice was as an
+AEolian harp.
+
+"An' he burned in it--an' she's a widow yet! Yes, I did hear there'd
+been a fire, but you never can tell. I thought the chimney might 'a'
+burned out--an' I was in the thick of bein' engaged to the night clerk
+at the Singin' Needles Hotel at Pineville at the time--an' there's no
+regular mail there. I thought the story might be exaggerated. Oh no, I
+didn't marry the night clerk. I'm a bride now, married to the head
+steward, same rank as poor old Morris--an' we're just _as_ happy! I used
+to pleg Morris about _her_ hair, but I'd have to let up on that now.
+Mine's as red again as hers. No, not my hair--_mine's_ hair. It's as red
+as a flannen drawer, every bit an' grain!
+
+"But, say," she added, presently, "when she gets better, just tell her
+never mind about that reci-pe. I copied it out of her reci-pe book
+whilst she was under the weather, an' dropped a dime in her cash-drawer.
+I recollect how old Morris used to look forward to her angel-cakes
+week-ends he'd be goin' home, an' you know there's nothin' like havin'
+ammunition, in marriage, even if you never need it. Mine's in that frame
+of mind now that transforms my gingerbread into angel-cake, but the time
+may come when I'll have to beat my eggs to a fluff even for angel-cake,
+so's not to have it taste like gingerbread to him.
+
+"Oh no, he's not with me this trip. I just run down for a lark to show
+my folks my ring an' things, an' let 'em see it's really so. He give me
+considerable jewelry. His First's taste run that way, an' they ain't no
+children.
+
+"Yes, this amethyst is the weddin'-ring. I selected that on account of
+him bein' a widower. It's the nearest I'd come to wearin' second
+mournin' for a woman I can't exactly grieve after. The year not bein' up
+is why he stayed home this trip. He didn't like to be seen traversin'
+the same old haunts with Another till it _was_ up. I wouldn't wait
+because, tell the truth, I was afraid. He ain't like a married man with
+me about money yet, an' it's liable to seize him any day. He might say
+that he couldn't afford the trip, or that we couldn't, which would
+amount to the same thing. I rather liked him bein' a little ticklish
+about goin' around with me for a while. It's one thing to do a thing an'
+another to be brazen about it--it----
+
+"But if she don't get better"--the reversion was to the Widow
+Morris--"if she don't get her mind poor thing! there's a fine insane
+asylum just out of Pineville, an' I'd like the best in the world to look
+out for her. It would make an excuse for me to go in. They say they have
+high old times there. Some days they let the inmates do 'most any old
+thing that's harmless. They even give 'em unpoisonous paints an' let 'em
+paint each other up. One man insisted he was a barber-pole an' ringed
+himself accordingly, an' then another chased him around for a stick of
+peppermint candy. Think of all that inside a close fence, an' a town so
+dull an' news-hungry----
+
+"Yes, they say Thursdays is paint days, an', of course, Fridays, they
+are scrub days. They pass around turpentine an' hide the matches. But,
+of course, Mis' Morris may get the better of it. 'Tain' every woman that
+can stand widowin', an' sometimes them that has got the least out of
+marriage will seem the most deprived to lose it--so they say."
+
+The blonde was a person of words.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Mrs. Morris had fully revived and, after a restoring "night's
+sleep" had got her bearings, and when she realized clearly that her
+supposed rival had actually shown up in the flesh, she visibly braced
+up. Her neighbors understood that it must have been a shock "to be
+suddenly confronted with any souvenir of the hotel fire"--so one had
+expressed it--and the incident soon passed out of the village mind.
+
+It was not long after this incident that the widow confided to a friend
+that she was coming to depend upon Morris for advice in her business.
+
+"Standing as he does, in that hotel door--between two worlds, as you
+might say--why, he sees both ways, and oftentimes he'll detect an event
+_on the way to happening_, an' if it don't move too fast, why, I can
+hustle an' get the better of things." It was as if she had a private
+wire for advance information--and she declared herself happy.
+
+Indeed, a certain ineffable light such as we sometimes see in the eyes
+of those newly in love came to shine from the face of the widow, who did
+not hesitate to affirm, looking into space as she said it:
+
+"Takin' all things into consideration, I can truly say that I have never
+been so truly and ideely married as since my widowhood." And she smiled
+as she added:
+
+"Marriage, the earthly way, is vicissitudinous, for everybody knows that
+anything is liable to happen to a man at large."
+
+There had been a time when she lamented that her picture was not
+"life-sized" as it would seem so much more natural, but she immediately
+reflected that that hotel would never have gotten into her little house,
+and that, after all, the main thing was having "him" under her own roof.
+
+As the months passed Mrs. Morris, albeit she seemed serene and of
+peaceful mind, grew very white and still. Fire is white in its ultimate
+intensity. The top, spinning its fastest, is said to "sleep"--and the
+dancing dervish is "still." So, misleading signs sometimes mark the
+danger-line.
+
+"Under-eating and over-thinking" was what the doctor said while he felt
+her translucent wrist and prescribed nails in her drinking-water. If he
+secretly knew that kind nature was gently letting down the bars so that
+a waiting spirit might easily pass--well, he was a doctor, not a
+minister. His business was with the body, and he ordered repairs.
+
+She was only thirty-seven and "well" when she passed painlessly out of
+life. It seemed to be simply a case of going.
+
+There were several friends at her bedside the night she went, and to
+them she turned, feeling the time come:
+
+"I just wanted to give out that the first thing I intend to do when I'm
+relieved is to call by there for Morris"--she lifted her weary eyes to
+the picture as she spoke--"for Morris--and I want it understood that
+it'll be a vacant house from the minute I depart. So, if there's any
+other woman that's calculatin' to have any carryin's-on from them
+windows--why, she'll be disappointed--she or they. The one obnoxious
+person I thought was in it _wasn't_. My imagination was tempted of Satan
+an' I was misled. So it must be sold for just what it is--just a
+photographer's photograph. If it's a picture with a past, why, everybody
+knows what that past is, and will respect it. I have tried to conquer
+myself enough to bequeath it to the young lady I suspicioned, but human
+nature is frail, an' I can't quite do it, although doubtless she would
+like it as a souvenir. Maybe she'd find it a little too souvenirish to
+suit my wifely taste, and yet--if a person is going to die----
+
+"I suppose I might legate it to her, partly to recompense her for her
+discretion in leaving that hotel when she did--an' partly for undue
+suspicion----
+
+"There's a few debts to be paid, but there's eggs an' things that'll pay
+them, an' there's no need to have the hen settin' in the window showcase
+any longer. It was a good advertisement, but I've often thought it
+might be embarrassin' to her." She was growing weaker, but she roused
+herself to amend:
+
+"Better raffle the picture for a dollar a chance an' let the proceeds go
+to my funeral--an' I want to be buried in the hotel-fire general grave,
+commingled with him--an' what's left over after the debts are paid, I
+bequeath to _her_--to make amends--an' if she don't care to come for it,
+let every widow in town draw for it. But she'll come. 'Most any woman'll
+take any trip, if it's paid for--But look!" she raised her eyes
+excitedly toward the mantel, "Look! What's that he's wavin'? It
+looks--oh yes, it is--it's our wings--two pairs--mine a little smaller.
+I s'pose it'll be the same old story--I'll never be able to keep up--to
+keep up with him--an' I've been so hap----
+
+"Yes, Morris--I'm comin'----"
+
+And she was gone--into a peaceful sleep from which she easily passed
+just before dawn.
+
+When all was well over, the sitting women rose with one accord and went
+to the mantel, where one even lighted an extra candle more clearly to
+scan the mysterious picture.
+
+Finally one said:
+
+"You may think I'm queer, but it does look different to me already!"
+
+"So it does," said another, taking the candle. "Like a house for rent. I
+declare, it gives me the cold shivers."
+
+"I'll pay my dollar gladly, and take a chance for it," whispered a
+third, "but I wouldn't let such a thing as that enter my happy home----"
+
+"Neither would I!"
+
+"Nor me, neither. I've had trouble enough. My husband's first wife's
+portrait has brought me discord enough--an' it was a straight likeness.
+I don't want any more pictures to put in the hen-house loft."
+
+So the feeling ran among the wives.
+
+"Well," said she who was blowing out the candle, "I'll draw for it--an'
+take it if I win it, an' consider it a sort of inheritance. I never
+inherited anything but indigestion."
+
+The last speaker was a maiden lady, and so was she who answered,
+chuckling:
+
+"That's what I say! Anything for a change. There'd be some excitement in
+a picture where a man was liable to show up. It's more than I've got
+now. I do declare it's just scandalous the way we're gigglin', an' the
+poor soul hardly out o' hearin'. She had a kind heart, Mis' Morris had,
+an' she made herself happy with a mighty slim chance----"
+
+"Yes, she did--and I only wish there'd been a better man waitin' for her
+in that hotel."
+
+
+
+
+THE GHOST THAT GOT THE BUTTON
+
+BY WILL ADAMS
+
+From _Collier's Weekly_, May 24, 1913. By permission of _Collier's
+Weekly_ and Will Adams.
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost that Got the Button
+
+BY WILL ADAMS
+
+
+One autumn evening, when the days were shortening and the darkness fell
+early on Hotchkiss and the frost was beginning to adorn with its fine
+glistening lace the carbine barrels of the night sentries as they walked
+post, Sergeants Hansen and Whitney and Corporal Whitehall had come to
+Stone's room after supper, feeling the need common to all men in the
+first cold nights of the year for a cozy room, a good smoke, and
+congenial companionship.
+
+The steam heat, newly turned on, wheezed and whined through the
+radiator: the air was blue and dense with tobacco smoke; the three
+sergeants reposed in restful, if inelegant attitudes, and Whitehall, his
+feet on the window sill and his wooden chair tilted back, was holding
+forth between puffs at a very battered pipe about an old colored woman
+who kept a little saloon in town.
+
+"So she got mad at those K troop men," he said. "An' nex' day when
+Turner stopped there for a drink she says: 'You git outer yere! You men
+fum de Arsenic wid de crossbones on you caps, I ain't lettin' you in;
+but de Medical Corpses an' de Non-efficient Officers, dey may come.'"
+
+The laugh that followed was interrupted by the approach of a raucous,
+shrieking noise that rose and fell in lugubrious cadence. "What the
+deuce!" exclaimed Whitehall, starting up.
+
+"That's Bill," explained Stone. "Bill Sullivan. He thinks he's singin'.
+Funny you never heard him before, Kid, but then he's not often taken
+that way, thank the Lord."
+
+"Come in, Bill," he called, "an' tell us what's the matter. Feel sick?
+Where's the pain?" he asked as big Bill appeared in the doorway.
+
+"Come in, hombre, an' rest yo'self," invited Whitney, and hospitably
+handed over his tobacco-pouch. "What was that tune yo'all were singin'
+out yonder?"
+
+"Thanks," responded Bill, settling down. "That there tune was 'I Wonder
+Where You Are To-night, My Love.'"
+
+"Sounded like 'Sister's Teeth Are Plugged with Zinc,'" commented
+Whitney.
+
+"Or 'Lookin' Through the Knot Hole in Papa's Wooden Leg,'" said
+Whitehall.
+
+"Or 'He Won't Buy the Ashman a Manicure Set,'" added Stone.
+
+"No," reiterated Bill solemnly. "It was like I told yer; 'I Wonder Where
+You Are To-night, My Love,' and it's a corker, too! I seen a feller an'
+a goil sing it in Kelly's Voddyville Palace out ter Cheyenne onct. Foist
+he'd sing one voise an' then she'd sing the nex'. He was dressed like a
+soldier, an' while he sang they was showin' tabloids o' what the goil
+was a-doin' behind him; an' then when she sang her voise he'd be in the
+tabloid, an' when it got ter the last voise, an' he was dyin' on a
+stretcher in a ambulance, everybody in the house was a-cryin' so yer
+could hardly hear her. It was great! My!" continued Bill, spreading out
+his great paws over the radiator, "ain't this the snappy evenin'? Real
+cold. Somehow it 'minds me of the cold we had in China that time of the
+Boxers, after we'd got ter the Legations; the nights was cold just like
+this is."
+
+"Why, Bill," said Whitney, "I never knew yo'all were there then. Why did
+yo' never tell us befo'? What were yo' with?"
+
+"Fourteenth Infantry," responded Bill proudly. "It's a great ol'
+regiment--don't care if they _are_ doughboys."
+
+"What company was you in?" inquired Hansen, ponderously taking his pipe
+from his mouth and breaking silence for the first time.
+
+"J Company, same as this."
+
+At this reply Stone opened his mouth abruptly to say something, but
+thought better of it and shut up again.
+
+"It was blame cold them nights a week or so after we was camped in the
+Temple of Agriculture (that's what they called it--I dunno why), but
+say! the heat comin' up from Tientsin was fryin'! It was jus' boilin',
+bakin', an' bubblin'--worse a heap than anythin' we'd had in the
+islands. We chucked away mos' every last thing on that hike but canteens
+an' rifles. It was a darn fool thing ter do--the chuckin' was, o'
+course--but it come out all right, 'cause extree supplies follered us up
+on the Pie-ho in junks. Ain't that a funny name fer a river? Pie-ho?
+Every time I got homesick I'd say that river, an' then I'd see Hogan's
+Dairy Lunch fer Ladies an' Gents on the ol' Bowery an' hear the kid Mick
+Hogan yellin': 'Draw one in the dark! White wings--let her flop!
+Pie-ho!' an' it helped me a heap." Bill settled himself and stretched.
+
+"But what I really wanted to tell youse about," said he, "was somepin'
+that happened one o' these here cold nights. It gits almighty cold there
+in September, an' it was sure the spookiest show I ever seen. Even Marm
+Haggerty's table rappin's in Hester Street never come up to it.
+
+"There was three of us fellers who ran in a bunch them days: me an' Buck
+Dugan, my bunkie, from the Bowery like me (he was a corporal), an' Ranch
+Fields--we called him that 'cause he always woiked on a ranch before he
+come into the Fourteenth. They was great fellers, Buck an' Ranch was.
+Buck, now--yer couldn't phase him, yer couldn't never phase him, no
+matter what sort o' job yer put him up against he'd slide through slick
+as a greased rat. The Cap'n, he knew it, too. Onct when we was fightin'
+an' hadn't no men to spare, he lef' Buck on guard over about
+twenty-five Boxer prisoners in a courtyard an' tells him he dassent let
+one escape. But Buck wants ter git into the fight with the rest of the
+boys, an' when he finds that if he leaves them Chinos loose in the yard
+alone they'll git out plenty quick, what does he do but tie 'em tight up
+by their pigtails to some posts. He knows they can't undo them tight
+knots backwards, an' no Chink would cut his pigtail if he _did_ have a
+knife--he'd die foist--an' so Buck skidoos off to the fight, an', sure
+enough, when the Cap'n wants them Boxers, they're ready, tied up an'
+waitin'. That was his sort, an', gee, but he was smart!
+
+"We was all right int'rested in them Allies, o' course, an' watched 'em
+clost; but, 'Bill,' says Buck ter me one night, 'its been woikin in me
+nut that these here fellers ain't so different from what we know
+a'ready. Excep' fer their uniform an' outfits, we've met 'em all before
+but the Japs. Why, look a-here,' says he, 'foist, there's the white
+men--the English--ain't they jus' like us excep' that they're thicker
+an' we're longer? An' their Injun niggers--ain't we seen their clothes
+in the comic op'ras an' them without their clothes in the monkey cage at
+Central Park? An' their Hong-kong China Regiment an' all the other
+Chinos is jus' the same as yer meet in the pipe joints in Mott Street.
+Then,' says he, 'come all the Dagos. These leather necks of Macaroni
+Dagos we've seen a swarmin' all over Mulberry Bend an' Five Points; the
+Sauerkraut Dagos looks fer all the woild like they was goin' ter a
+Schuetzenfest up by High Bridge; the Froggie Dagos you'll find packed in
+them Frenchy restaraws in the Thirties--where yer git blue wine--and
+them Vodki Dagos only needs a pushcart ter make yer think yer in Baxter
+Street.'
+
+"Buck, he could sure talk, but Ranch, he wasn't much on chin-chin.
+Little an' dark an' quiet he was, an' jus' crazy fer dogs. Any old
+mutt'd do fer him--jus' so's it was in the shape of a pup. He was fair
+wild fer 'em. He picked up a yeller cur out there the day after the
+Yangtsin fight, an' that there no-account, mangy, flea-bitten mutt had
+ter stay with us the whole time. If the pup didn't stand in me an' Buck
+an' Ranch, he swore he'd quit too, so we had to let him come, an' he
+messed an' bunked with our outfit right along. Ranch named him Daggett,
+after the Colonel, which was right hard on the C. O., but I bet Ranch
+thought he was complimentin' him. Why, Ranch considered himself honored
+if any of the pup's fleas hopped off on him. The pup he kep' along with
+us right through everything; Ranch watchin' him like the apple of his
+eye, an' he hardly ever was out of our sight, till one night about a
+week after we quartered in the temple he didn't turn up fer supper. He
+was always so reg'lar at his chow that Ranch he begin ter git the
+squirms an' when come taps an' Daggett hadn't reported, Ranch had the
+razzle-dazzles.
+
+"Nex' mornin' the foist thing he must go hunt that pup, an' went a
+scoutin' all day, me an' Buck helpin' him--but nary pup; an' come
+another supper without that miser'ble mutt, an' Ranch was up an alley
+all right, all right. He was all wore out, an' I made him hit the bunk
+early an' try ter sleep; but, Lord! No sooner he'd drop off 'n he git
+ter twitchin' an' hitchin' an' wake up a-yelpin' fer Daggett. Long about
+taps, Buck, who's been out on a private reconnoissance, comes back an'
+whispers ter me: 'Ssst, Bill! The cur's found! Don't tell Ranch; the
+bloke'd die of heart failure. I struck his trail an' follered it--an'
+say, Bill, what'n thunder do yer think? Them heathen Chinos has _et
+him_!' Lord, now, wouldn't that jolt youse? Them Chinos a-eatin'
+Daggett! It give me an awful jar, an' Buck he felt it, too. That there
+mutt had acted right decent, an' we knew Ranch would have bats in the
+belfry fer fair if he hoid tell o' the pup's finish; so says Buck;
+'Let's not tell him, 'cause he's takin' on now like he'd lost mother an'
+father an' best goil an' all, an' if he knew Daggett was providin' chow
+fer Chinos he'd go clean bug house an' we'd have ter ship him home ter
+St. Elizabeth.'
+
+"I says O. K. ter that, an' we made it up not ter let on ter Ranch; an'
+now here comes the spook part yer been a-waitin' fer.
+
+"Four or five nights later I was on guard, an' my post was the farthest
+out we had on the north. There was an ol' road out over that way, an'
+I'd hoid tell it led ter a ol' graveyard, but I hadn't never been there
+myself an' hadn't thought much about it till 'long between two an'
+three o'clock, as I was a-hikin' up an down, when somepin' comes
+a-zizzin' down the road hell-fer-leather on to me, a-yellin' somepin'
+fierce. Gee, but I was skeered! I made sure it was a spook, an' there
+wasn't a bit o' breath left in me. I was all to the bad that time fer
+sure. Before I had time ter think even, that screamin', streakin' thing
+was on me an a-grabbin' roun' my knees; an' then I see it was one o'
+them near-Christian Chinos, an' he's skeered more'n me even. His eyes
+had popped clean out'n their slits, an' his tongue was hangin' out by
+the roots, he was that locoed. I raised the long yell fer corporal of
+the guard, which happened, by good luck, ter be Buck, an' when he come
+a-runnin', thinkin' from the whoops I give we was bein' rushed by the
+hole push of Boxers, the two of us began proddin' at the Chink ter find
+out what was doin'. Took us some time, too, with him bein' in such a
+flutter an' hardly able ter even hand out his darn ol' pigeon English,
+that sounds like language comin' out of a sausage machine. When we did
+savvy his line of chop-suey talk, we found out he'd seen a ghost in the
+graveyard, an' not only seen it but he knew who the spook was an' all
+about him. We was gittin' some serious ourselves an' made him tell us.
+
+"Seems it was a mandarin--that's a sort o' Chink police-court judge
+(till I got ter Tientsin I always thought they was little oranges), an'
+this tangerine's--I mean mandarin's--name was Wu Ti Ming, an' he'd been
+a high mucky-muckraker in his day, which was two or three hundred years
+back. But the Emprer caught him deep in some sort o' graft an' _took
+away his button_ an' all o' his dough.
+
+"'Lord!' says Buck when we come ter this, 'don't that prove what
+heathens Chinks is? Only one button ter keep on their clothes with, an'
+the Emprer he kin take it away! What did this here Judge Ming do then,
+John? Use string or pins?' This here John didn't seem ter savvy, but he
+said that the mandarin took on so fer his button an' his loss of pull in
+the ward that it was sure sad ter see, an' by an' by the Emprer got busy
+again with him an' had him finished up fer keeps; had him die the 'death
+of a thousand cuts,' says John. It sounded fierce ter me, but Buck he
+says:
+
+"'Pshaw! Anybody who's been shaved reg'lar by them lady barbers on
+Fourth Avenyer would 'a' give the Emprer the merry ha-ha----'
+
+"After Ming was cut up they took the remains of his corpse an' planted
+him in this here graveyard up the road; but he wouldn't stay planted an'
+began doin' stunts at night, 'topside walkee-walkee' an' a-huntin' fer
+his lost button. He'd used ter have the whole country scared up, but fer
+the last twenty years he'd kep' right quiet an' had hardly ever come
+out; but now sence the foreign devils come (ain't that a sweet name fer
+us?) he's up an' at it again worse than ever, an' the heathens is on
+their ear. Fer four nights now they'd seen him, wrapped in a blue robe,
+waitin' an' a-huntin' behind tombstones an' walkin' round an' round the
+graveyard lie a six days' race fer the belt at Madison Square. John had
+jus' seen him on the wall, an' that was why he come chargin' down the
+road like forty cats.
+
+"'Will Mr. Ming's sperrit walk till he gits that button back?' Buck
+asts. John says: 'Sure.'
+
+"'Well,' says Buck, 'why don't yer give him one?'
+
+"'No can give. Only Emplor, only Son of Heaven give.'
+
+"'Well, look here,' says Buck, 'we sand rabbits ain't no sons of Heaven,
+but I'll be darned if we couldn't spare a button ter lay the ghost of a
+pore busted police-court judge, who's lost his job an' his tin, if
+_that's_ all he wants back. What time does he come out at, John? Could
+we see him ter-morrer night?' 'Sure could we,' says John; 'he'll show us
+the way, but he won't wait with us; he's bad enough fer his.'
+
+"So Buck takes John an' goes back ter the guard shack, as it's most time
+fer relief, an' after I got back we told John ter git the hook, an' we
+talked things over, an' Buck he was just wild ter see if he couldn't lay
+that Chino ghost. His talents was achin' ter git action on him; anythin'
+like that got up his spunk. Says I:
+
+"'Maybe Ranch kin help. We'll tell him ter-morrer after guard mount.
+It'll take his mind off Daggett.'
+
+"'No, yer don't,' says Buck. 'Don't yer dare tell him. He's nervous as a
+cat over the pup as it is, an' this spook business is awful skeery; I'm
+feelin' woozy over it meself. I'm all off when it comes ter ghosts--that
+is, if it's a real ghost. And things here in Pekin' is so funny the odds
+is all in favor of its bein' the sure thing. I ain't afeard o' no kinds
+o' people, but I sure git cold feet when I'm up against a ghost.
+Wouldn't that jar youse? An' me a soldier; when it's a soldier's whole
+business not ter _git_ cold feet. But I'm bound I'll have a show at that
+ol' spook even if it _does_ skeer me out o' my growth. Only don't yer
+dare tell Ranch.'
+
+"Nex' night, right after eleven o'clock rounds, me an' Buck slipped
+outer our blankets, sneaked out past the guard, an' met John, who was
+waitin' fer us in the road jus' beyond where the last sentry woulder
+seen him. It was cold as git out. Jus' the same kind o' early cold as
+to-night, an' John's teeth was chatterin' like peas in a box--he was
+some loco with skeer, too, you bet.
+
+"'Which way?' says Buck, an' John spouts a lot o' dope-joint lingo an'
+takes us up a side alley, where there's a whole bunch o' Chinos waitin'
+fer us, an' they begun a kowtowin' an' goin' on like we was the whole
+cheese. Turned out that John had jollied 'em that the Melican soldier
+mans was big medicine an' would make Judge Ming quit the midnight hike
+an' cut out scarin' 'em blue. That jus' suited Buck; he was all there
+when it come ter play commander in chief. He swelled up an' give 'em a
+bundle o' talk that John put in Chino fer 'em, an' then finished up by
+showin' 'em a button--a ol' United States Army brass button he'd cut off
+his blue blouse--an' tol' 'em he was goin' ter bury it in Ming's grave
+so as ter keep him bedded down.
+
+"An' them simple idiots was pleased ter death, an' the whole outfit
+escorted us over ter the graveyard, but they shied at the gate (Lord, I
+hated ter see 'em go--even if they _was_ heathens!), an' let John take
+us in an' show us where ter wait. He put us in behind a pile o' little
+rocks in about the middle o' the place near where Judge Ming hung out,
+an' then retired on the main body at the double, leavin' us two in
+outpost alone there together. I hadn't never been ter a Chino buryin'
+ground before, an' night time wasn't extree pleasant fer a foist
+introduce. There was a new moon that night--a little shavin' of a thing
+that hardly gave no light, an' from where we was there was a twisty pine
+tree branch that struck out right acrost it like a picture card--two fer
+five. The graveyard was all dark an' quiet, with little piles o' rocks
+an' stone tables ter mark the graves, an' a four- or five-foot wall
+runnin' all round it; an' somehow, without nothin' stirrin' at all, the
+whole blame place seemed chock full o' movin' shadders. There wasn't a
+sound neither; not the least little thing; jus' them shadders; an' the
+harder yous'd look at 'em the more they seemed ter move. It was cold,
+too, like I told yer--bitin' cold--an' me an' Buck squatted there tight
+together an' mos' friz. We waited, an' we waited, an' _we waited_, an'
+we got skeerder, an' skeerder, an' _skeerder_, an', gee! how we
+shivered! Every minute we thought we'd see Judge Ming, but a long time
+went by an' he didn't come an' he _didn't_ come. There we set, strung up
+tight an' ready ter snap like a banjo string, but nothin' ter see but
+the shakin' shadders an' nothin' ter hear--nothin' but jus' dead, dead
+silence.
+
+"All of a suddent Buck (he kin hear a pin drop a mile away) nearly nips
+a piece out'n my arm as he grips me. 'Listen!' says he.
+
+"I listened an' listened, but I didn't hear nothin', an' I told him so.
+
+"'Yes, yer do, yer bloke yer,' he whispers, 'Listen. Strain your years.'
+
+"Then way off I did begin ter hear somepin'. It was a long, funny, waily
+cry, sort o' like the way cats holler at each other at night. 'Oh-oo-oo,
+oh-oo-oo!' like that, an' it come nearer an' nearer. Then all of a
+suddent somepin' popped up on the graveyard wall about a hundred yards
+away--somepin' all blue-gray against the hook o' the moon--an' began
+walkin' up an' down an' hollerin'. I knew it was sayin' words, but I was
+so far to the bad I didn't know nothin' an' couldn't make it out. I
+never thought a feller's heart could bang so hard against his ribs
+without bustin' out, an' me hair riz so high me campaign hat was three
+inches off'n me head. I hope ter the Lord I'll never be so frightened
+again in all my livin' days. I set there in a transom from fear an' friz
+ter the spot. I don't know nothin' o' what Buck was doin', as my lamps
+was glued ter the spook. It jumped down from the wall, callin' an'
+whistlin' an' begin runnin' round the little stone heaps. I seen it was
+comin' our way, but I couldn't move or make a sound; I jus' set. All of
+a suddent Buck he jumps up an' makes a dash an' a leap at the spook, an'
+there's a terrible yellin' an' they both comes down crash at the foot of
+a rock pile, rollin' on the little pebbles; but Buck is on top an' the
+spook underneath an' lettin' off the most awful screeches. Gosh, they
+jus' ripped the air, them spooks' yells did, an' they turned my spell
+loose an' I howled fer all I was worth. Then Buck, he commenced
+a-yawpin' too, but me an' the spook we was both raisin' so much noise I
+didn't savvy what he said fer some time. Then I found he was cussin' me
+out.
+
+"'Come here, you forsaken ---- ----,' he howls. 'Quit yellin'! I say _quit
+yellin'_! Don't yer see who this is? Come here an' help me.'
+
+"'You think I'm goin' ter tech that Ming spook?' I shrieks.
+
+"'You miser'ble loony,' he yells back, 'can't yer see it ain't no Ming?
+It's Ranch!'
+
+"Well, so it was. It was Ranch skeered stiff an' hollerin' fer dear life
+at bein' jumped on an' waked up in the middle of a graveyard that-a-way.
+Pore ol' feller had had Daggett on his mind, an' went sleepwalkin' an'
+huntin' wrapped in his blanket.
+
+"'An',' says Buck ter me, 'if youse hadn't been in such a dope dream
+with skeer, you'd 'a' sensed what he was a-yellin'. He was callin'
+"Oh-oo-oo, oh-oo-oo, here Daggett! Here, boy!" an' then he'd whistle an'
+call again: "Here, Daggett! Here, Daggett!" That's how I knew it was
+Ranch; an', besides, he told me onct that he sleepwalked when he got
+worried. But you, you white livered--' an' then he cussed me out some
+more.
+
+"'Smarty,' I says, 'if yer knew so blame well it was Ranch, why did yer
+give him the flyin' tackle like yer done an' git him all woiked up like
+this?'
+
+"'Well,' says Buck sort o' sheepy, 'I was some woiked up meself, an'
+time he come along I give him the spook's tackle without thinkin'; I was
+too skeered ter think. Hush, Ranch. Hush, old boy. It's jus' me'n Bill.
+Nobody shan't hoit yer.'
+
+"We comforted pore ol' Ranch an' fixed him up, an' then when he felt
+better told him about things--all but how Daggett was et--an' I wrapped
+his blanket around him an' took him back ter quarters while Buck went
+a-lookin' fer John an' his gang.
+
+"He found 'em about half a mile off, in front of a Mott Street joss
+house, all prayin' an' burnin' punk an' huddled together, skeered green
+from the yellin's they'd heard. Buck, he give 'em a long chin-chin about
+layin' the ghost, an' how Judge Ming wouldn't never come back no more;
+an' then he dragged 'em all back (they pullin' at the halter shanks with
+years laid back an' eyes rollin'), ter him bury his United States button
+on Ming's rock pile. He dropped it in solemn, an' said what the Chinks
+took ter be a prayer; but it was really the oath he said. Buck havin'
+onct been a recruitin' sergeant, knew it by heart all the way from 'I do
+solemnly swear' ter 'so help me, Gawd.' Buck says I oughter seen them
+grateful Chinos then: they'd 'a' give him the whole Chino Umpire if they
+could. They got down an' squirmed an' kissed his hands an' his feet an'
+his sleeve. They wanted ter escort him back ter camp, but he bucked at
+that, an' said no, as he was out without pass an' not itchin' fer his
+arrival ter be noticed none.
+
+"After that we took toins watchin' Ranch at night, an' got him another
+mutt ter love, an' he didn't wander any more, so Judge Ming seemed
+satisfied with his United States button, an' kep' quiet. But them Chinks
+was the gratefullest gang yer ever seen. They brought us presents;
+things ter eat--fruit, poultry, eggs, an' all sorts of chow, some of it
+mighty funny lookin', but it tasted all right; we lived high, we three.
+The other fellers was wild ter know how we woiked it. An' I tell yer I
+ain't never been skeered o' ghosts sence--that is, not ter speak
+of--_much_!"
+
+Bill, paused, drew a long breath, and looked at the clock. "Gee!" said
+he, "most nine o'clock. I got ter go over ter K troop ter see Sergeant
+Keefe a minute--I promised him. Adios, fellers. Thanks fer the smokin'."
+
+"Keep the change, hombre. Thanks for yo' tale," shouted Whitney after
+him as he disappeared down the hall.
+
+"Well!!" said Stone, and looked at Hansen.
+
+"Well!!" responded Hansen. The big Swede shook with laughter. "Iss he
+not the finest liar! Yess? I wass in the Fourteenth myselluf. That wass
+my company--Chay. He wass not even the army in then--in nineteen
+hund'erd."
+
+"Yes," said Stone, "I knew, but I wasn't goin' to spoil his bloomin'
+yarn. I happened to see his enlistment card only this mornin', and the
+only thing he was ever in before was the Twenty-third Infantry after
+they came back from the Islands. He's never even been out of the
+States."
+
+"But where did he get it from?" asked Whitney. "His imagination is equal
+to most anything but gettin' so many facts straight. Of co'se I noticed
+things yere an' there--but the most of it was O. K."
+
+"I tell you," said Hansen, grinning, "he got it from an old Fourteenth
+man--Dan Powerss--at practice camp last Chuly. He an' I wass often
+talking of China. He wuss in my old company an' wass then telling me how
+he an' the other fellerss all that extra chow got. I tank Bill he hass a
+goot memory."
+
+"But the nerve of him!" cried Whitehall, "tryin' ter pass that off on us
+with Hansen sittin' right there."
+
+"It iss one thing he may have forgot," smiled Hansen.
+
+"Well, who cares anyway?" said Stone. "It was a blame good story. An'
+now clear out, all of you. I want to hit the bunk. Reveille does seem to
+come so early these cold mornin's. Gee! I wish I knew of some kind of
+button that would keep _me_ lyin' down when Shorty wants me to get up
+an' call the roll."
+
+
+
+
+THE SPECTER BRIDEGROOM
+
+BY WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+
+
+
+The Specter Bridegroom
+
+A TRAVELER'S TALE[2]
+
+BY WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+    He that supper for is dight,
+    He lyes full cold, I trow, this night!
+    Yestreen to chamber I him led,
+    This night Gray-Steel has made his bed.
+    SIR EGER, SIR GRAHAME, AND SIR GRAY-STEEL.
+
+
+On the summit of one of the heights of the Odenwald, a wild and romantic
+tract of Upper Germany, that lies not far from the confluence of the
+Main and the Rhine, there stood, many, many years since, the Castle of
+the Baron Von Landshort. It is now quite fallen to decay, and almost
+buried among beech trees and dark firs; above which, however, its old
+watch tower may still be seen, struggling, like the former possessor I
+have mentioned, to carry a high head, and look down upon the neighboring
+country.
+
+The baron was a dry branch of the great family of Katzenellenbogen,[3]
+and inherited the relics of the property, and all the pride of his
+ancestors. Though the warlike disposition of his predecessors had much
+impaired the family possessions, yet the baron still endeavored to keep
+up some show of former state. The times were peaceable, and the German
+nobles, in general, had abandoned their inconvenient old castles,
+perched like eagles' nests among the mountains, and had built more
+convenient residences in the valleys; still the baron remained proudly
+drawn up in his little fortress, cherishing with hereditary inveteracy,
+all the old family feuds; so that he was on ill terms with some of his
+nearest neighbors, on account of disputes that had happened between
+their great-great-grandfathers.
+
+The baron had but one child, a daughter; but nature, when she grants but
+one child, always compensates by making it a prodigy; and so it was with
+the daughter of the baron. All the nurses, gossips, and country cousins
+assured her father that she had not her equal for beauty in all Germany;
+and who should know better than they? She had, moreover, been brought up
+with great care under the superintendence of two maiden aunts, who had
+spent some years of their early life at one of the little German
+courts, and were skilled in all branches of knowledge necessary to the
+education of a fine lady. Under their instructions she became a miracle
+of accomplishments. By the time she was eighteen, she could embroider to
+admiration, and had worked whole histories of the saints in tapestry,
+with such strength of expression in their countenances, that they looked
+like so many souls in purgatory. She could read without great
+difficulty, and had spelled her way through several church legends, and
+almost all the chivalric wonders of the Heldenbuch. She had even made
+considerable proficiency in writing; could sign her own name without
+missing a letter, and so legibly, that her aunts could read it without
+spectacles. She excelled in making little elegant good-for-nothing
+lady-like nicknacks of all kinds; was versed in the most abstruse
+dancing of the day; played a number of airs on the harp and guitar; and
+knew all the tender ballads of the Minnelieders by heart.
+
+Her aunts, too, having been great flirts and coquettes in their younger
+days, were admirably calculated to be vigilant guardians and strict
+censors of the conduct of their niece; for there is no duenna so rigidly
+prudent, and inexorably decorous, as a superannuated coquette. She was
+rarely suffered out of their sight; never went beyond the domains of the
+castle, unless well attended, or rather well watched; had continual
+lectures read to her about strict decorum and implicit obedience; and,
+as to the men--pah!--she was taught to hold them at such a distance, and
+in such absolute distrust, that, unless properly authorized, she would
+not have cast a glance upon the handsomest cavalier in the world--no,
+not if he were even dying at her feet.
+
+The good effects of this system were wonderfully apparent. The young
+lady was a pattern of docility and correctness. While others were
+wasting their sweetness in the glare of the world, and liable to be
+plucked and thrown aside by every hand, she was coyly blooming into
+fresh and lovely womanhood under the protection of those immaculate
+spinsters, like a rosebud blushing forth among guardian thorns. Her
+aunts looked upon her with pride and exultation, and vaunted that though
+all the other young ladies in the world might go astray, yet, thank
+Heaven, nothing of the kind could happen to the heiress of
+Katzenellenbogen.
+
+But, however scantily the Baron Von Landshort might be provided with
+children, his household was by no means a small one; for Providence had
+enriched him with abundance of poor relations. They, one and all,
+possessed the affectionate disposition common to humble relatives; were
+wonderfully attached to the baron, and took every possible occasion to
+come in swarms and enliven the castle. All family festivals were
+commemorated by these good people at the baron's expense; and when they
+were filled with good cheer, they would declare that there was nothing
+on earth so delightful as these family meetings, these jubilees of the
+heart.
+
+The baron, though a small man, had a large soul, and it swelled with
+satisfaction at the consciousness of being the greatest man in the
+little world about him. He loved to tell long stories about the dark old
+warriors whose portraits looked grimly down from the walls around, and
+he found no listeners equal to those that fed at his expense. He was
+much given to the marvelous, and a firm believer in all those
+supernatural tales with which every mountain and valley in Germany
+abounds. The faith of his guests exceeded even his own: they listened to
+every tale of wonder with open eyes and mouth, and never failed to be
+astonished, even though repeated for the hundredth time. Thus lived the
+Baron Von Landshort, the oracle of his table, the absolute monarch of
+his little territory, and happy, above all things, in the persuasion
+that he was the wisest man of the age.
+
+At the time of which my story treats, there was a great family gathering
+at the castle, on an affair of the utmost importance: it was to receive
+the destined bridegroom of the baron's daughter. A negotiation had been
+carried on between the father and an old nobleman of Bavaria, to unite
+the dignity of their houses by the marriage of their children. The
+preliminaries had been conducted with proper punctilio. The young people
+were betrothed without seeing each other, and the time was appointed for
+the marriage ceremony. The young Count Von Altenburg had been recalled
+from the army for the purpose, and was actually on his way to the
+baron's to receive his bride. Missives had even been received from him
+from Wurtzburg, where he was accidentally detained, mentioning the day
+and hour when he might be expected to arrive.
+
+The castle was in a tumult of preparation to give him a suitable
+welcome. The fair bride had been decked out with uncommon care. The two
+aunts had superintended her toilet, and quarreled the whole morning
+about every article of her dress. The young lady had taken advantage of
+their contest to follow the bent of her own taste; and fortunately it
+was a good one. She looked as lovely as youthful bridegroom could
+desire; and the flutter of expectation heightened the luster of her
+charms.
+
+The suffusions that mantled her face and neck, the gentle heaving of the
+bosom, the eye now and then lost in reverie, all betrayed the soft
+tumult that was going on in her little heart. The aunts were continually
+hovering around her; for maiden aunts are apt to take great interest in
+affairs of this nature. They were giving her a world of staid counsel
+how to deport herself, what to say, and in what manner to receive the
+expected lover.
+
+The baron was no less busied in preparations. He had, in truth, nothing
+exactly to do; but he was naturally a fuming bustling little man, and
+could not remain passive when all the world was in a hurry. He worried
+from top to bottom of the castle with an air of infinite anxiety; he
+continually called the servants from their work to exhort them to be
+diligent; and buzzed about every hall and chamber, as idly restless and
+importunate as a blue-bottle fly on a warm summer's day.
+
+In the meantime the fatted calf had been killed; the forests had rung
+with the clamor of the huntsmen; the kitchen was crowded with good
+cheer; the cellars had yielded up whole oceans of _Rheinwein_ and
+_Fernewein_; and even the great Heidelberg tun had been laid under
+contribution. Everything was ready to receive the distinguished guest
+with _Saus und Braus_ in the true spirit of German hospitality--but the
+guest delayed to make his appearance. Hour rolled after hour. The sun,
+that had poured his downward rays upon the rich forest of the Odenwald,
+now just gleamed along the summits of the mountains. The baron mounted
+the highest tower, and strained his eyes in hope of catching a distant
+sight of the count and his attendants. Once he thought he beheld them;
+the sounds of horns came floating from the valley, prolonged by the
+mountain echoes. A number of horsemen were seen far below, slowly
+advancing along the road; but when they had nearly reached the foot of
+the mountain, they suddenly struck off in a different direction. The
+last ray of sunshine departed--the bats began to flit by in the
+twilight--the road grew dimmer and dimmer to the view; and nothing
+appeared stirring in it but now and then a peasant lagging homeward
+from his labor.
+
+While the old castle at Landshort was in this state of perplexity, a
+very interesting scene was transacting in a different part of the
+Odenwald.
+
+The young Count Von Altenburg was tranquilly pursuing his route in that
+sober jog-trot way in which a man travels toward matrimony when his
+friends have taken all the trouble and uncertainty of courtship off his
+hands, and a bride is waiting for him, as certainly as a dinner at the
+end of his journey. He had encountered at Wurtzburg a youthful companion
+in arms with whom he had seen some service on the frontiers: Herman Von
+Starkenfaust, one of the stoutest hands and worthiest hearts of German
+chivalry, who was now returning from the army. His father's castle was
+not far distant from the old fortress of Landshort, although an
+hereditary feud rendered the families hostile, and strangers to each
+other.
+
+In the warm-hearted moment of recognition, the young friends related all
+their past adventures and fortunes, and the count gave the whole history
+of his intended nuptials with a young lady whom he had never seen, but
+of whose charms he had received the most enrapturing descriptions.
+
+As the route of the friends lay in the same direction, they agreed to
+perform the rest of their journey together; and, that they might do it
+the more leisurely, set off from Wurtzburg at an early hour, the count
+having given directions for his retinue to follow and overtake him.
+
+They beguiled their wayfaring with recollections of their military
+scenes and adventures; but the count was apt to be a little tedious, now
+and then, about the reputed charms of his bride and the felicity that
+awaited him.
+
+In this way they had entered among the mountains of the Odenwald, and
+were traversing one of its most lonely and thickly wooded passes. It is
+well known that the forests of Germany have always been as much infested
+by robbers as its castles by specters; and at this time the former were
+particularly numerous, from the hordes of disbanded soldiers wandering
+about the country. It will not appear extraordinary, therefore, that the
+cavaliers were attacked by a gang of these stragglers, in the midst of
+the forest. They defended themselves with bravery, but were nearly
+overpowered, when the count's retinue arrived to their assistance. At
+sight of them the robbers fled, but not until the count had received a
+mortal wound. He was slowly and carefully conveyed back to the city of
+Wurtzburg, and a friar summoned from a neighboring convent who was
+famous for his skill in administering to both soul and body; but half of
+his skill was superfluous; the moments of the unfortunate count were
+numbered.
+
+With his dying breath he entreated his friend to repair instantly to the
+castle of Landshort, and explain the fatal cause of his not keeping his
+appointment with his bride. Though not the most ardent of lovers, he
+was one of the most punctilious of men, and appeared earnestly
+solicitous that his mission should be speedily and courteously executed.
+"Unless this is done," said he, "I shall not sleep quietly in my grave!"
+He repeated these last words with peculiar solemnity. A request, at a
+moment so impressive, admitted no hesitation. Starkenfaust endeavored to
+soothe him to calmness; promised faithfully to execute his wish, and
+gave him his hand in solemn pledge. The dying man pressed it in
+acknowledgment, but soon lapsed into delirium--raved about his
+bride--his engagements--his plighted word; ordered his horse, that he
+might ride to the castle of Landshort; and expired in the fancied act of
+vaulting into the saddle.
+
+Starkenfaust bestowed a sigh and a soldier's tear on the untimely fate
+of his comrade, and then pondered on the awkward mission he had
+undertaken. His heart was heavy, and his head perplexed; for he was to
+present himself an unbidden guest among hostile people, and to damp
+their festivity with tidings fatal to their hopes. Still, there were
+certain whisperings of curiosity in his bosom to see this far-famed
+beauty of Katzenellenbogen, so cautiously shut up from the world; for he
+was a passionate admirer of the sex, and there was a dash of
+eccentricity and enterprise in his character that made him fond of all
+singular adventure.
+
+Previous to his departure he made all due arrangements with the holy
+fraternity of the convent for the funeral solemnities of his friend, who
+was to be buried in the cathedral of Wurtzburg near some of his
+illustrious relatives; and the mourning retinue of the count took charge
+of his remains.
+
+It is now high time that we should return to the ancient family of
+Katzenellenbogen, who were impatient for their guest, and still more for
+their dinner; and to the worthy little baron, whom we left airing
+himself on the watch-tower.
+
+Night closed in, but still no guest arrived. The baron descended from
+the tower in despair. The banquet, which had been delayed from hour to
+hour, could no longer be postponed. The meats were already overdone; the
+cook in an agony; and the whole household had the look of a garrison
+that had been reduced by famine. The baron was obliged reluctantly to
+give orders for the feast without the presence of the guest. All were
+seated at table, and just on the point of commencing, when the sound of
+a horn from without the gate gave notice of the approach of a stranger.
+Another long blast filled the old courts of the castle with its echoes,
+and was answered by the warder from the walls. The baron hastened to
+receive his future son-in-law.
+
+The drawbridge had been let down, and the stranger was before the gate.
+He was a tall, gallant cavalier mounted on a black steed. His
+countenance was pale, but he had a beaming, romantic eye, and an air of
+stately melancholy.
+
+The baron was a little mortified that he should have come in this
+simple, solitary style. His dignity for a moment was ruffled, and he
+felt disposed to consider it a want of proper respect for the important
+occasion, and the important family with which he was to be connected. He
+pacified himself, however, with the conclusion, that it must have been
+youthful impatience which had induced him thus to spur on sooner than
+his attendants.
+
+"I am sorry," said the stranger, "to break in upon you thus
+unseasonably----"
+
+Here the baron interrupted with a world of compliments and greetings;
+for, to tell the truth, he prided himself upon his courtesy and
+eloquence.
+
+The stranger attempted, once or twice, to stem the torrent of words, but
+in vain, so he bowed his head and suffered it to flow on. By the time
+the baron had come to a pause, they had reached the inner court of the
+castle; and the stranger was again about to speak, when he was once more
+interrupted by the appearance of the female part of the family leading
+forth the shrinking and blushing bride. He gazed on her for a moment as
+one entranced; it seemed as if his whole soul beamed forth in the gaze,
+and rested upon that lovely form. One of the maiden aunts whispered
+something in her ear; she made an effort to speak; her moist blue eye
+was timidly raised; gave a shy glance of inquiry on the stranger; and
+was cast again to the ground. The words died away; but there was a
+sweet smile playing about her lips, and a soft dimpling of the cheek
+that showed her glance had not been unsatisfactory. It was impossible
+for a girl of the fond age of eighteen, highly predisposed for love and
+matrimony, not to be pleased with so gallant a cavalier.
+
+The late hour at which the guest had arrived left no time for parley.
+The baron was peremptory, and deferred all particular conversation until
+the morning, and led the way to the untasted banquet.
+
+It was served up in the great hall of the castle. Around the walls hung
+the hard-favored portraits of the heroes of the house of
+Katzenellenbogen, and the trophies which they had gained in the field
+and in the chase. Hacked corselets, splintered jousting spears, and
+tattered banners were mingled with the spoils of sylvan warfare; the
+jaws of the wolf and the tusks of the boar grinned horribly among
+cross-bows and battle-axes, and a huge pair of antlers branched
+immediately over the head of the youthful bridegroom.
+
+The cavalier took but little notice of the company or the entertainment.
+He scarcely tasted the banquet, but seemed absorbed in admiration of his
+bride. He conversed in a low tone that could not be overheard--for the
+language of love is never loud; but where is the female ear so dull that
+it cannot catch the softest whisper of the lover? There was a mingled
+tenderness and gravity in his manner, that appeared to have a powerful
+effect upon the young lady. Her color came and went as she listened with
+deep attention. Now and then she made some blushing reply, and when his
+eye was turned away, she would steal a sidelong glance at his romantic
+countenance and heave a gentle sigh of tender happiness. It was evident
+that the young couple were completely enamored. The aunts, who were
+deeply versed in the mysteries of the heart, declared that they had
+fallen in love with each other at first sight.
+
+The feast went on merrily, or at least noisily, for the guests were all
+blessed with those keen appetites that attend upon light purses and
+mountain air. The baron told his best and longest stories, and never had
+he told them so well, or with such great effect. If there was anything
+marvelous, his auditors were lost in astonishment; and if anything
+facetious, they were sure to laugh exactly in the right place. The
+baron, it is true, like most great men, was too dignified to utter any
+joke but a dull one; it was always enforced, however, by a bumper of
+excellent Hockheimer; and even a dull joke, at one's own table, served
+up with jolly old wine, is irresistible. Many good things were said by
+poorer and keener wits that would not bear repeating, except on similar
+occasions; many sly speeches whispered in ladies' ears, that almost
+convulsed them with suppressed laughter; and a song or two roared out by
+a poor, but merry and broad-faced cousin of the baron that absolutely
+made the maiden aunts hold up their fans.
+
+Amidst all this revelry, the stranger guest maintained a most singular
+and unseasonable gravity. His countenance assumed a deeper cast of
+dejection as the evening advanced; and, strange as it may appear, even
+the baron's jokes seemed only to render him the more melancholy. At
+times he was lost in thought, and at times there was a perturbed and
+restless wandering of the eye that bespoke a mind but ill at ease. His
+conversations with the bride became more and more earnest and
+mysterious. Lowering clouds began to steal over the fair serenity of her
+brow, and tremors to run through her tender frame.
+
+All this could not escape the notice of the company. Their gayety was
+chilled by the unaccountable gloom of the bridegroom; their spirits were
+infected; whispers and glances were interchanged, accompanied by shrugs
+and dubious shakes of the head. The song and the laugh grew less and
+less frequent; there were dreary pauses in the conversation, which were
+at length succeeded by wild tales and supernatural legends. One dismal
+story produced another still more dismal, and the baron nearly
+frightened some of the ladies into hysterics with the history of the
+goblin horseman that carried away the fair Leonora; a dreadful story
+which has since been put into excellent verse, and is read and believed
+by all the world.
+
+The bridegroom listened to this tale with profound attention. He kept
+his eyes steadily fixed on the baron, and, as the story drew to a close,
+began gradually to rise from his seat, growing taller and taller, until,
+in the baron's entranced eye, he seemed almost to tower into a giant.
+The moment the tale was finished, he heaved a deep sigh and took a
+solemn farewell of the company. They were all amazement. The baron was
+perfectly thunder-struck.
+
+"What! going to leave the castle at midnight? Why, everything was
+prepared for his reception; a chamber was ready for him if he wished to
+retire."
+
+The stranger shook his head mournfully and mysteriously; "I must lay my
+head in a different chamber to-night!"
+
+There was something in this reply, and the tone in which it was uttered,
+that made the baron's heart misgive him; but he rallied his forces and
+repeated his hospitable entreaties.
+
+The stranger shook his head silently, but positively, at every offer;
+and, waving his farewell to the company, stalked slowly out of the hall.
+The maiden aunts were absolutely petrified--the bride hung her head, and
+a tear stole to her eye.
+
+The baron followed the stranger to the great court of the castle, where
+the black charger stood pawing the earth and snorting with impatience.
+When they had reached the portal, whose deep archway was dimly lighted
+by a cresset, the stranger paused, and addressed the baron in a hollow
+tone of voice which the vaulted roof rendered still more sepulchral.
+
+"Now that we are alone," said he, "I will impart to you the reason of my
+going. I have a solemn, an indispensable engagement----"
+
+"Why," said the baron, "cannot you send someone in your place?"
+
+"It admits of no substitute--I must attend it in person--I must away to
+Wurtzburg cathedral----"
+
+"Ay," said the baron, plucking up spirit, "but not until
+to-morrow--to-morrow you shall take your bride there."
+
+"No! no!" replied the stranger, with tenfold solemnity, "my engagement
+is with no bride--the worms! the worms expect me! I am a dead man--I
+have been slain by robbers--my body lies at Wurtzburg--at midnight I am
+to be buried--the grave is waiting for me--I must keep my appointment!"
+
+He sprang on his black charger, dashed over the drawbridge, and the
+clattering of his horses' hoofs was lost in the whistling of the night
+blast.
+
+The baron returned to the hall in the utmost consternation, and related
+what had passed. Two ladies fainted outright, others sickened at the
+idea of having banqueted with a specter. It was the opinion of some,
+that this might be the wild huntsman, famous in German legend. Some
+talked of mountain sprites, of wood-demons, and of other supernatural
+beings, with which the good people of Germany have been so grievously
+harassed since time immemorial. One of the poor relations ventured to
+suggest that it might be some sportive evasion of the young cavalier,
+and that the very gloominess of the caprice seemed to accord with so
+melancholy a personage. This, however, drew on him the indignation of
+the whole company, and especially of the baron, who looked upon him as
+little better than an infidel; so that he was fain to abjure his heresy
+as speedily as possible, and come into the faith of the true believers.
+
+But whatever may have been the doubts entertained, they were completely
+put to an end by the arrival, next day, of regular missives confirming
+the intelligence of the young count's murder, and his interment in
+Wurtzburg cathedral.
+
+The dismay at the castle may well be imagined. The baron shut himself up
+in his chamber. The guests, who had come to rejoice with him, could not
+think of abandoning him in his distress. They wandered about the courts,
+or collected in groups in the hall, shaking their heads and shrugging
+their shoulders at the troubles of so good a man; and sat longer than
+ever at table, and ate and drank more stoutly than ever, by way of
+keeping up their spirits. But the situation of the widowed bride was the
+most pitiable. To have lost a husband before she had even embraced
+him--and such a husband! if the very specter could be so gracious and
+noble, what must have been the living man! She filled the house with
+lamentations.
+
+On the night of the second day of her widowhood, she had retired to her
+chamber, accompanied by one of her aunts who insisted on sleeping with
+her. The aunt, who was one of the best tellers of ghost stories in all
+Germany, had just been recounting one of her longest, and had fallen
+asleep in the very midst of it. The chamber was remote, and overlooked a
+small garden. The niece lay pensively gazing at the beams of the rising
+moon, as they trembled on the leaves of an aspen-tree before the
+lattice. The castle-clock had just tolled midnight, when a soft strain
+of music stole up from the garden. She rose hastily from her bed, and
+stepped lightly to the window. A tall figure stood among the shadows of
+the trees. As it raised its head, a beam of moonlight fell upon the
+countenance. Heaven and earth! she beheld the Specter Bridegroom! A loud
+shriek at that moment burst upon her ear, and her aunt, who had been
+awakened by the music, and had followed her silently to the window, fell
+into her arms. When she looked again, the specter had disappeared.
+
+Of the two females, the aunt now required the most soothing, for she was
+perfectly beside herself with terror. As to the young lady, there was
+something, even in the specter of her lover, that seemed endearing.
+There was still the semblance of manly beauty; and though the shadow of
+a man is but little calculated to satisfy the affections of a love-sick
+girl, yet, where the substance is not to be had, even that is consoling.
+The aunt declared she would never sleep in that chamber again; the
+niece, for once, was refractory, and declared as strongly that she would
+sleep in no other in the castle: the consequence was, that she had to
+sleep in it alone: but she drew a promise from her aunt not to relate
+the story of the specter, lest she should be denied the only melancholy
+pleasure left her on earth--that of inhabiting the chamber over which
+the guardian shade of her lover kept its nightly vigils.
+
+How long the good old lady would have observed this promise is
+uncertain, for she dearly loved to talk of the marvelous, and there is a
+triumph in being the first to tell a frightful story; it is, however,
+still quoted in the neighborhood, as a memorable instance of female
+secrecy, that she kept it to herself for a whole week; when she was
+suddenly absolved from all further restraint, by intelligence, brought
+to the breakfast table one morning, that the young lady was not to be
+found. Her room was empty--the bed had not been slept in--the window was
+open, and the bird had flown!
+
+The astonishment and concern with which the intelligence was received,
+can only be imagined by those who have witnessed the agitation which the
+mishaps of a great man cause among his friends. Even the poor relations
+paused for a moment from the indefatigable labors of the trencher, when
+the aunt, who had at first been struck speechless, wrung her hands, and
+shrieked out, "The goblin! the goblin! She's carried away by the
+goblin!"
+
+In a few words she related the fearful scene of the garden, and
+concluded that the specter must have carried off his bride. Two of the
+domestics corroborated the opinion, for they had heard the clattering of
+a horse's hoofs down the mountain about midnight, and had no doubt that
+it was the specter on his black charger, bearing her away to the tomb.
+All present were struck with the direful probability; for events of the
+kind are extremely common in Germany, as many well-authenticated
+histories bear witness.
+
+What a lamentable situation was that of the poor baron! What a
+heart-rending dilemma for a fond father, and a member of the great
+family of Katzenellenbogen! His only daughter had either been rapt away
+to the grave, or he was to have some wood-demon for a son-in-law, and,
+perchance, a troop of goblin grandchildren. As usual, he was completely
+bewildered and all the castle in an uproar. The men were ordered to take
+horse, and scour every road and path and glen of the Odenwald. The baron
+himself had just drawn on his jack-boots, girded on his sword, and was
+about to mount his steed to sally forth on the doubtful quest, when he
+was brought to a pause by a new apparition. A lady was seen approaching
+the castle, mounted on a palfrey, attended by a cavalier on horseback.
+She galloped up to the gate, sprang from her horse, and falling at the
+baron's feet, embraced his knees. It was his lost daughter, and her
+companion--the Specter Bridegroom! The baron was astounded. He looked at
+his daughter, then at the specter, and almost doubted the evidence of
+his senses. The latter, too, was wonderfully improved in his appearance
+since his visit to the world of spirits. His dress was splendid, and set
+off a noble figure of manly symmetry. He was no longer pale and
+melancholy. His fine countenance was flushed with the glow of youth, and
+joy rioted in his large dark eye.
+
+The mystery was soon cleared up. The cavalier (for in truth, as you must
+have known all the while, he was no goblin) announced himself as Sir
+Herman Von Starkenfaust. He related his adventure with the young count.
+He told how he had hastened to the castle to deliver the unwelcome
+tidings, but that the eloquence of the baron had interrupted him in
+every attempt to tell his tale. How the sight of the bride had
+completely captivated him, and that to pass a few hours near her, he had
+tacitly suffered the mistake to continue. How he had been sorely
+perplexed in what way to make a decent retreat, until the baron's goblin
+stories had suggested his eccentric exit. How, fearing the feudal
+hostility of the family, he had repeated his visits by stealth--had
+haunted the garden beneath the young lady's window--had wooed--had
+won--had borne away in triumph--and, in a word, had wedded the fair.
+
+Under any other circumstances the baron would have been inflexible, for
+he was tenacious of paternal authority, and devoutly obstinate in all
+family feuds; but he loved his daughter; he had lamented her as lost; he
+rejoiced to find her still alive; and, though her husband was of a
+hostile house, yet, thank Heaven, he was not a goblin. There was
+something, it must be acknowledged, that did not exactly accord with his
+notions of strict veracity, in the joke the knight had passed upon him
+of his being a dead man; but several old friends present, who had served
+in the wars, assured him that every stratagem was excusable in love, and
+that the cavalier was entitled to especial privilege, having lately
+served as a trooper.
+
+Matters, therefore, were happily arranged. The baron pardoned the young
+couple on the spot. The revels at the castle were resumed. The poor
+relations overwhelmed this new member of the family with loving
+kindness; he was so gallant, so generous--and so rich. The aunts, it is
+true, were somewhat scandalized that their system of strict seclusion
+and passive obedience should be so badly exemplified, but attributed it
+all to their negligence in not having the windows grated. One of them
+was particularly mortified at having her marvelous story marred, and
+that the only specter she had ever seen should turn out a counterfeit;
+but the niece seemed perfectly happy at having found him substantial
+flesh and blood--and so the story ends.
+
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[2] The erudite reader, well versed in good-for-nothing lore, will
+perceive that the above Tale must have been suggested to the old Swiss
+by a little French anecdote, a circumstance said to have taken place at
+Paris.
+
+[3] _I. e._, CAT'S-ELBOW. The name of a family of those parts very
+powerful in former times. The appellation, we are told, was given in
+compliment to a peerless dame of the family, celebrated for her fine
+arm.
+
+
+
+
+THE SPECTER OF TAPPINGTON
+
+COMPILED BY RICHARD BARHAM
+
+
+
+
+The Specter of Tappington
+
+From _The Ingoldsby Legends_
+
+COMPILED BY RICHARD BARHAM
+
+
+"It is very odd, though; what can have become of them?" said Charles
+Seaforth, as he peeped under the valance of an old-fashioned bedstead,
+in an old-fashioned apartment of a still more old-fashioned manor-house;
+"'tis confoundedly odd, and I can't make it out at all. Why, Barney,
+where are they?--and where the d----l are you?"
+
+No answer was returned to this appeal; and the lieutenant, who was, in
+the main, a reasonable person--at least as reasonable a person as any
+young gentleman of twenty-two in "the service" can fairly be expected to
+be--cooled when he reflected that his servant could scarcely reply
+extempore to a summons which it was impossible he should hear.
+
+An application to the bell was the considerate result; and the footsteps
+of as tight a lad as ever put pipe-clay to belt sounded along the
+gallery.
+
+"Come in!" said his master. An ineffectual attempt upon the door
+reminded Mr. Seaforth that he had locked himself in. "By Heaven! this
+is the oddest thing of all," said he, as he turned the key and admitted
+Mr. Maguire into his dormitory.
+
+"Barney, where are my pantaloons?"
+
+"Is it the breeches?" asked the valet, casting an inquiring eye round
+the apartment;--"is it the breeches, sir?"
+
+"Yes, what have you done with them?"
+
+"Sure then your honor had them on when you went to bed, and it's
+hereabouts they'll be, I'll be bail"; and Barney lifted a fashionable
+tunic from a cane-backed arm-chair, proceeding in his examination. But
+the search was vain; there was the tunic aforesaid, there was a
+smart-looking kerseymere waistcoat; but the most important article of
+all in a gentleman's wardrobe was still wanting.
+
+"Where _can_ they be?" asked the master, with a strong accent on the
+auxiliary verb.
+
+"Sorrow a know I knows," said the man.
+
+"It _must_ have been the devil, then, after all, who has been here and
+carried them off!" cried Seaforth, staring full into Barney's face.
+
+Mr. Maguire was not devoid of the superstition of his countrymen, still
+he looked as if he did not quite subscribe to the _sequitur_.
+
+His master read incredulity in his countenance. "Why, I tell you,
+Barney, I put them there, on that arm-chair, when I got into bed; and,
+by Heaven! I distinctly saw the ghost of the old fellow they told me
+of, come in at midnight, put on my pantaloons, and walk away with them."
+
+"May be so," was the cautious reply.
+
+"I thought, of course, it was a dream; but then--where the d----l are
+the breeches?"
+
+The question was more easily asked than answered. Barney renewed his
+search, while the lieutenant folded his arms, and, leaning against the
+toilet, sunk into a reverie.
+
+"After all, it must be some trick of my laughter-loving cousins," said
+Seaforth.
+
+"Ah! then, the ladies!" chimed in Mr. Maguire, though the observation
+was not addressed to him; "and will it be Miss Caroline or Miss Fanny,
+that's stole your honor's things?"
+
+"I hardly know what to think of it," pursued the bereaved lieutenant,
+still speaking in soliloquy, with his eye resting dubiously on the
+chamber-door. "I locked myself in, that's certain; and--but there must
+be some other entrance to the room--pooh! I remember--the private
+staircase; how could I be such a fool?" and he crossed the chamber to
+where a low oaken doorcase was dimly visible in a distant corner. He
+paused before it. Nothing now interfered to screen it from observation;
+but it bore tokens of having been at some earlier period concealed by
+tapestry, remains of which yet clothed the walls on either side the
+portal.
+
+"This way they must have come," said Seaforth; "I wish with all my heart
+I had caught them!"
+
+"Och! the kittens!" sighed Mr. Barney Maguire.
+
+But the mystery was yet as far from being solved as before. True, there
+_was_ the "other door"; but then that, too, on examination, was even
+more firmly secured than the one which opened on the gallery--two heavy
+bolts on the inside effectually prevented any _coup de main_ on the
+lieutenant's _bivouac_ from that quarter. He was more puzzled than ever;
+nor did the minutest inspection of the walls and floor throw any light
+upon the subject: one thing only was clear--the breeches were gone! "It
+is _very_ singular," said the lieutenant.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Tappington (generally called Tapton) Everard is an antiquated but
+commodious manor-house in the eastern division of the county of Kent. A
+former proprietor had been high-sheriff in the days of Elizabeth, and
+many a dark and dismal tradition was yet extant of the licentiousness of
+his life, and the enormity of his offenses. The Glen, which the keeper's
+daughter was seen to enter, but never known to quit, still frowns darkly
+as of yore; while an ineradicable blood-stain on the oaken stair yet
+bids defiance to the united energies of soap and sand. But it is with
+one particular apartment that a deed of more especial atrocity is said
+to be connected. A stranger guest--so runs the legend--arrived
+unexpectedly at the mansion of the "Bad Sir Giles." They met in
+apparent friendship; but the ill-concealed scowl on their master's brow
+told the domestics that the visit was not a welcome one; the banquet,
+however, was not spared; the wine-cup circulated freely--too freely,
+perhaps--for sounds of discord at length reached the ears of even the
+excluded serving-men, as they were doing their best to imitate their
+betters in the lower hall. Alarmed, some of them ventured to approach
+the parlor, one, an old and favored retainer of the house, went so far
+as to break in upon his master's privacy. Sir Giles, already high in
+oath, fiercely enjoined his absence, and he retired; not, however,
+before he had distinctly heard from the stranger's lips a menace that
+"there was that within his pocket which could disprove the knight's
+right to issue that or any other command within the walls of Tapton."
+
+The intrusion, though momentary, seemed to have produced a beneficial
+effect; the voices of the disputants fell, and the conversation was
+carried on thenceforth in a more subdued tone, till, as evening closed
+in, the domestics, when summoned to attend with lights, found not only
+cordiality restored, but that a still deeper carouse was meditated.
+Fresh stoups, and from the choicest bins, were produced; nor was it till
+at a late, or rather early hour, that the revelers sought their
+chambers.
+
+The one allotted to the stranger occupied the first floor of the
+eastern angle of the building, and had once been the favorite apartment
+of Sir Giles himself. Scandal ascribed this preference to the facility
+which a private staircase, communicating with the grounds, had afforded
+him, in the old knight's time, of following his wicked courses unchecked
+by parental observation; a consideration which ceased to be of weight
+when the death of his father left him uncontrolled master of his estate
+and actions. From that period Sir Giles had established himself in what
+were called the "state apartments," and the "oaken chamber" was rarely
+tenanted, save on occasions of extraordinary festivity, or when the yule
+log drew an unusually large accession of guests around the Christmas
+hearth.
+
+On this eventful night it was prepared for the unknown visitor, who
+sought his couch heated and inflamed from his midnight orgies, and in
+the morning was found in his bed a swollen and blackened corpse. No
+marks of violence appeared upon the body; but the livid hue of the lips,
+and certain dark-colored spots visible on the skin, aroused suspicions
+which those who entertained them were too timid to express. Apoplexy,
+induced by the excesses of the preceding night, Sir Giles's confidential
+leech pronounced to be the cause of his sudden dissolution. The body was
+buried in peace; and though some shook their heads as they witnessed the
+haste with which the funeral rites were hurried on, none ventured to
+murmur. Other events arose to distract the attention of the retainers;
+men's minds became occupied by the stirring politics of the day; while
+the near approach of that formidable armada, so vainly arrogating itself
+a title which the very elements joined with human valor to disprove,
+soon interfered to weaken, if not obliterate, all remembrance of the
+nameless stranger who had died within the walls of Tapton Everard.
+
+Years rolled on: the "Bad Sir Giles" had himself long since gone to his
+account, the last, as it was believed, of his immediate line; though a
+few of the older tenants were sometimes heard to speak of an elder
+brother, who had disappeared in early life, and never inherited the
+estate. Rumors, too, of his having left a son in foreign lands, were at
+one time rife; but they died away, nothing occurring to support them:
+the property passed unchallenged to a collateral branch of the family,
+and the secret, if secret there were, was buried in Denton churchyard,
+in the lonely grave of the mysterious stranger. One circumstance alone
+occurred, after a long-intervening period, to revive the memory of these
+transactions. Some workmen employed in grubbing an old plantation, for
+the purpose of raising on its site a modern shrubbery, dug up, in the
+execution of their task, the mildewed remnants of what seemed to have
+been once a garment. On more minute inspection, enough remained of
+silken slashes and a coarse embroidery, to identify the relics as having
+once formed part of a pair of trunk hose; while a few papers which fell
+from them, altogether illegible from damp and age, were by the unlearned
+rustics conveyed to the then owner of the estate.
+
+Whether the squire was more successful in deciphering them was never
+known; he certainly never alluded to their contents; and little would
+have been thought of the matter but for the inconvenient memory of one
+old woman, who declared she heard her grandfather say, that when the
+"strange guest" was poisoned, though all the rest of his clothes were
+there, his breeches, the supposed repository of the supposed documents,
+could never be found. The master of Tapton Everard smiled when he heard
+Dame Jones's hint of deeds which might impeach the validity of his own
+title in favor of some unknown descendant of some unknown heir; and the
+story was rarely alluded to, save by one or two miracle-mongers, who had
+heard that others had seen the ghost of old Sir Giles, in his night-cap,
+issue from the postern, enter the adjoining copse, and wring his shadowy
+hands in agony, as he seemed to search vainly for something hidden among
+the evergreens. The stranger's death-room had, of course, been
+occasionally haunted from the time of his decease; but the periods of
+visitation had latterly become very rare--even Mrs. Botherby, the
+housekeeper, being forced to admit that, during her long sojourn at the
+manor, she had never "met with anything worse than herself"; though, as
+the old lady afterwards added upon more mature reflection, "I must say I
+think I saw the devil _once_."
+
+Such was the legend attached to Tapton Everard, and such the story which
+the lively Caroline Ingoldsby detailed to her equally mercurial cousin,
+Charles Seaforth, lieutenant in the Hon. East India Company's second
+regiment of Bombay Fencibles, as arm-in-arm they promenaded a gallery
+decked with some dozen grim-looking ancestral portraits, and, among
+others, with that of the redoubted Sir Giles himself. The gallant
+commander had that very morning paid his first visit to the house of his
+maternal uncle, after an absence of several years passed with his
+regiment on the arid plains of Hindostan, whence he was now returned on
+a three years' furlough. He had gone out a boy--he returned a man; but
+the impression made upon his youthful fancy by his favorite cousin
+remained unimpaired, and to Tapton he directed his steps, even before he
+sought the home of his widowed mother--comforting himself in this breach
+of filial decorum by the reflection that, as the manor was so little out
+of his way, it would be unkind to pass, as it were, the door of his
+relatives, without just looking in for a few hours.
+
+But he found his uncle as hospitable, and his cousin more charming than
+ever; and the looks of one, and the requests of the other, soon
+precluded the possibility of refusing to lengthen the "few hours" into
+a few days, though the house was at the moment full of visitors.
+
+The Peterses were from Ramsgate; and Mr., Mrs., and the two Miss
+Simpkinsons, from Bath, had come to pass a month with the family; and
+Tom Ingoldsby had brought down his college friend the Honorable Augustus
+Sucklethumbkin, with his groom and pointers, to take a fortnight's
+shooting. And then there was Mrs. Ogleton, the rich young widow, with
+her large black eyes, who, people did say, was setting her cap at the
+young squire, though Mrs. Botherby did not believe it; and, above all,
+there was Mademoiselle Pauline, her _femme de chambre_, who
+"_mon-Dieu'd_" everything and everybody, and cried "_Quel horreur!_" at
+Mrs. Botherby's cap. In short, to use the last-named and much-respected
+lady's own expression, the house was "choke-full" to the very
+attics--all save the "oaken chamber," which, as the lieutenant expressed
+a most magnanimous disregard of ghosts, was forthwith appropriated to
+his particular accommodation. Mr. Maguire meanwhile was fain to share
+the apartment of Oliver Dobbs, the squire's own man; a jocular proposal
+of joint occupancy having been first indignantly rejected by
+"Mademoiselle," though preferred with the "laste taste in life" of Mr.
+Barney's most insinuating brogue.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Come, Charles, the urn is absolutely getting cold; your breakfast will
+be quite spoiled: what can have made you so idle?" Such was the morning
+salutation of Miss Ingoldsby to the _militaire_ as he entered the
+breakfast-room half an hour after the latest of the party.
+
+"A pretty gentleman, truly, to make an appointment with," chimed in Miss
+Frances. "What is become of our ramble to the rocks before breakfast?"
+
+"Oh! the young men never think of keeping a promise now," said Mrs.
+Peters, a little ferret-faced woman with underdone eyes.
+
+"When I was a young man," said Mr. Peters, "I remember I always made a
+point of----"
+
+"Pray, how long ago was that?" asked Mr. Simpkinson from Bath.
+
+"Why, sir, when I married Mrs. Peters, I was--let me see--I was----"
+
+"Do pray hold your tongue, P., and eat your breakfast!" interrupted his
+better half, who had a mortal horror of chronological references; "it's
+very rude to tease people with your family affairs."
+
+The lieutenant had by this time taken his seat in silence--a
+good-humored nod, and a glance, half-smiling, half-inquisitive, being
+the extent of his salutation. Smitten as he was, and in the immediate
+presence of her who had made so large a hole in his heart, his manner
+was evidently _distrait_, which the fair Caroline in her secret soul
+attributed to his being solely occupied by her _agremens_: how would she
+have bridled had she known that they only shared his meditations with a
+pair of breeches!
+
+Charles drank his coffee and spiked some half-dozen eggs, darting
+occasionally a penetrating glance at the ladies, in hope of detecting
+the supposed waggery by the evidence of some furtive smile or conscious
+look. But in vain; not a dimple moved indicative of roguery, nor did the
+slightest elevation of eyebrow rise confirmative of his suspicions.
+Hints and insinuations passed unheeded--more particular inquiries were
+out of the question--the subject was unapproachable.
+
+In the meantime, "patent cords" were just the thing for a morning's
+ride; and, breakfast ended, away cantered the party over the downs,
+till, every faculty absorbed by the beauties, animate and inanimate,
+which surrounded him. Lieutenant Seaforth of the Bombay Fencibles
+bestowed no more thought upon his breeches than if he had been born on
+the top of Ben Lomond.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Another night had passed away; the sun rose brilliantly, forming with
+his level beams a splendid rainbow in the far-off west, whither the
+heavy cloud, which for the last two hours had been pouring its waters on
+the earth, was now flying before him.
+
+"Ah! then, and it's little good it'll be the claning of ye,"
+apostrophized Mr. Barney Maguire, as he deposited, in front of his
+master's toilet, a pair of "bran new" jockey boots, one of Hoby's
+primest fits, which the lieutenant had purchased in his way through
+town. On that very morning had they come for the first time under the
+valet's depurating hand, so little soiled, indeed, from the turfy ride
+of the preceding day, that a less scrupulous domestic might, perhaps,
+have considered the application of "Warren's Matchless," or oxalic acid,
+altogether superfluous. Not so Barney: with the nicest care had he
+removed the slightest impurity from each polished surface, and there
+they stood, rejoicing in their sable radiance. No wonder a pang shot
+across Mr. Maguire's breast as he thought on the work now cut out for
+them, so different from the light labors of the day before; no wonder he
+murmured with a sigh, as the scarce dried window-panes disclosed a road
+now inch deep in mud! "Ah! then, it's little good claning of ye!"--for
+well had he learned in the hall below that eight miles of a stiff clay
+soil lay between the manor and Bolsover Abbey, whose picturesque ruins,
+
+    "Like ancient Rome, majestic in decay,"
+
+the party had determined to explore. The master had already commenced
+dressing, and the man was fitting straps upon a light pair of
+crane-necked spurs, when his hand was arrested by the old
+question--"Barney, where are the breeches?"
+
+They were nowhere to be found!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Seaforth descended that morning, whip in hand, and equipped in a
+handsome green riding-frock, but no "breeches and boots to match" were
+there: loose jean trousers, surmounting a pair of diminutive
+Wellingtons, embraced, somewhat incongruously, his nether man, _vice_
+the "patent cords," returned, like yesterday's pantaloons, absent
+without leave. The "top-boots" had a holiday.
+
+"A fine morning after the rain," said Mr. Simpkinson from Bath.
+
+"Just the thing for the 'ops," said Mr. Peters. "I remember when I was a
+boy----"
+
+"Do hold your tongue, P.," said Mrs. Peters--advice which that exemplary
+matron was in the constant habit of administering to "her P." as she
+called him, whenever he prepared to vent his reminiscences. Her precise
+reason for this it would be difficult to determine, unless, indeed, the
+story be true which a little bird had whispered into Mrs. Botherby's
+ear--Mr. Peters, though now a wealthy man had received a liberal
+education at a charity school, and was apt to recur to the days of his
+muffin-cap and leathers. As usual, he took his wife's hint in good part,
+and "paused in his reply."
+
+"A glorious day for the ruins!" said young Ingoldsby. "But Charles, what
+the deuce are you about? you don't mean to ride through our lanes in
+such toggery as that?"
+
+"Lassy me!" said Miss Julia Simpkinson, "won't yo' be very wet?"
+
+"You had better take Tom's cab," quoth the squire.
+
+But this proposition was at once over-ruled; Mrs. Ogleton had already
+nailed the cab, a vehicle of all others the best adapted for a snug
+flirtation.
+
+"Or drive Miss Julia in the phaeton?" No; that was the post of Mr.
+Peters, who, indifferent as an equestrian, had acquired some fame as a
+whip while traveling through the midland counties for the firm of
+Bagshaw, Snivelby, and Ghrimes.
+
+"Thank you, I shall ride with my cousins," said Charles, with as much
+_nonchalance_ as he could assume--and he did so; Mr. Ingoldsby, Mrs.
+Peters, Mr. Simpkinson from Bath, and his eldest daughter with her
+_album_, following in the family coach. The gentleman-commoner "voted
+the affair d----d slow," and declined the party altogether in favor of
+the gamekeeper and a cigar. "There was 'no fun' in looking at old
+houses!" Mrs. Simpkinson preferred a short _sejour_ in the still-room
+with Mrs. Botherby, who had promised to initiate her in that grand
+_arcanum_, the transmutation of gooseberry jam into Guava jelly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Did you ever see an old abbey before, Mrs. Peters?"
+
+"Yes, miss, a French one; we have got one at Ramsgate; he teaches the
+Miss Joneses to parley-voo and is turned of sixty."
+
+Miss Simpkinson closed her album with an air of ineffable disdain.
+
+Mr. Simpkinson from Bath was a professed antiquary, and one of the
+first water; he was master of Gwillim's Heraldry, and Mill's History of
+the Crusades; knew every plate in the Monasticon; had written an essay
+on the origin and dignity of the office of overseer, and settled the
+date on a Queen Anne's farthing. An influential member of the
+Antiquarian Society, to whose "Beauties of Bagnigge Wells" he had been a
+liberal subscriber, procured him a seat at the board of that learned
+body, since which happy epoch Sylvanus Urban had not a more
+indefatigable correspondent. His inaugural essay on the President's
+cocked hat was considered a miracle of erudition; and his account of the
+earliest application of gilding to gingerbread, a masterpiece of
+antiquarian research. His eldest daughter was of a kindred spirit: if
+her father's mantle had not fallen upon her, it was only because he had
+not thrown it off himself; she had caught hold of its tail, however,
+while it yet hung upon his honored shoulders. To souls so congenial,
+what a sight was the magnificent ruin of Bolsover! its broken arches,
+its mouldering pinnacles, and the airy tracery of its half-demolished
+windows. The party were in raptures; Mr. Simpkinson began to meditate an
+essay, and his daughter an ode: even Seaforth, as he gazed on these
+lonely relics of the olden time, was betrayed into a momentary
+forgetfulness of his love and losses; the widow's eye-glass turned from
+her _cicisbeo's_ whiskers to the mantling ivy; Mrs. Peters wiped her
+spectacles; and "her P." supposed the central tower "had once been the
+county jail." The squire was a philosopher, and had been there often
+before, so he ordered out the cold tongue and chickens.
+
+"Bolsover Priory," said Mr. Simpkinson, with the air of a
+connoisseur--"Bolsover Priory was founded in the reign of Henry the
+Sixth, about the beginning of the eleventh century. Hugh de Bolsover had
+accompanied that monarch to the Holy Land, in the expedition undertaken
+by way of penance for the murder of his young nephews in the Tower. Upon
+the dissolution of the monasteries, the veteran was enfeoffed in the
+lands and manor, to which he gave his own name of Bowlsover, or
+Bee-owls-over (by corruption Bolsover)--a Bee in chief, over three Owls,
+all proper, being the armorial ensigns borne by this distinguished
+crusader at the siege of Acre."
+
+"Ah! that was Sir Sidney Smith," said Mr. Peters; "I've heard tell of
+him, and all about Mrs. Partington, and----"
+
+"P. be quiet, and don't expose yourself!" sharply interrupted his lady.
+P. was silenced, and betook himself to the bottled stout.
+
+"These lands," continued the antiquary, "were held in grand serjeantry
+by the presentation of three white owls and pot of honey----"
+
+"Lassy me! how nice!" said Miss Julia. Mr. Peters licked his lips.
+
+"Pray give me leave, my dear--owls and honey, whenever the king should
+come a rat-catching into this part of the country."
+
+"Rat-catching!" ejaculated the squire, pausing abruptly in the
+mastication of a drumstick.
+
+"To be sure, my dear sir; don't you remember the rats came under the
+forest laws--a minor species of venison? 'Rats and mice, and such small
+deer,' eh?--Shakespeare, you know. Our ancestors ate rats ('The nasty
+fellows!' shuddered Miss Julia, in a parenthesis); and owls, you know,
+are capital mousers----"
+
+"I've seen a howl," said Mr. Peters; "there's one in the Sohological
+Gardens--a little hook-nosed chap in a wig--only its feathers and----"
+
+Poor P. was destined never to finish a speech.
+
+"_Do_ be quiet!" cried the authoritative voice; and the would-be
+naturalist shrank into his shell, like a snail in the "Sohological
+Gardens."
+
+"You should read Blount's _Jocular Tenures_, Mr. Ingoldsby," pursued
+Simpkinson. "A learned man was Blount! Why, sir, His Royal Highness the
+Duke of York once paid a silver horse-shoe to Lord Ferrers----"
+
+"I've heard of him," broke in the incorrigible Peters; "he was hanged at
+the Old Bailey in a silk rope for shooting Dr. Johnson."
+
+The antiquary vouchsafed no notice of the interruption; but, taking a
+pinch of snuff, continued his harangue.
+
+"A silver horse-shoe, sir, which is due from every scion of royalty who
+rides across one of his manors; and if you look into the penny county
+histories, now publishing by an eminent friend of mine, you will find
+that Langhale in Co. Norf. was held by one Baldwin _per saltum,
+sufflatum, et pettum_; that is, he was to come every Christmas into
+Westminster Hall, there to take a leap, cry hem! and----"
+
+"Mr. Simpkinson, a glass of sherry?" cried Tom Ingoldsby, hastily.
+
+"Not any, thank you, sir. This Baldwin, surnamed _Le----_"
+
+"Mrs. Ogleton challenges you, sir; she insists upon it," said Tom still
+more rapidly, at the same time filling a glass, and forcing it on the
+_scavant_, who, thus arrested in the very crisis of his narrative,
+received and swallowed the potation as if it had been physic.
+
+"What on earth has Miss Simpkinson discovered there?" continued Tom;
+"something of interest. See how fast she is writing."
+
+The diversion was effectual; every one looked towards Miss Simpkinson,
+who, far too ethereal for "creature comforts," was seated apart on the
+dilapidated remains of an altar-tomb, committing eagerly to paper
+something that had strongly impressed her; the air--the eye in a "fine
+frenzy rolling"--all betokened that the divine _afflarus_ was come. Her
+father rose, and stole silently towards her.
+
+"What an old boar!" muttered young Ingoldsby; alluding, perhaps, to a
+slice of brawn which he had just begun to operate upon, but which, from
+the celerity with which it disappeared, did not seem so very difficult
+of mastication.
+
+But what had become of Seaforth and his fair Caroline all this while?
+Why, it so happened that they had been simultaneously stricken with the
+picturesque appearance of one of those high and pointed arches, which
+that eminent antiquary, Mr. Horseley Curties, has described in his
+_Ancient Records_, as "a _Gothic_ window of the _Saxon_ order"; and then
+the ivy clustered so thickly and so beautifully on the other side, that
+they went round to look at that; and then their proximity deprived it of
+half its effect, and so they walked across to a little knoll, a hundred
+yards off, and in crossing a small ravine, they came to what in Ireland
+they call "a bad step," and Charles had to carry his cousin over it; and
+then when they had to come back, she would not give him the trouble
+again for the world, so they followed a better but more circuitous
+route, and there were hedges and ditches in the way, and stiles to get
+over and gates to get through, so that an hour or more had elapsed
+before they were able to rejoin the party.
+
+"Lassy me!" said Miss Julia Simpkinson, "how long you have been gone!"
+
+And so they had. The remark was a very just as well as a very natural
+one. They were gone a long while, and a nice cosy chat they had; and
+what do you think it was all about, my dear miss?
+
+"O lassy me! love, no doubt, and the moon, and eyes, and nightingales,
+and----"
+
+Stay, stay, my sweet young lady; do not let the fervor of your feelings
+run away with you! I do not pretend to say, indeed, that one or more of
+these pretty subjects might not have been introduced; but the most
+important and leading topic of the conference was--Lieutenant Seaforth's
+breeches.
+
+"Caroline," said Charles, "I have had some very odd dreams since I have
+been at Tappington."
+
+"Dreams, have you?" smiled the young lady, arching her taper neck like a
+swan in pluming. "Dreams, have you?"
+
+"Ah, dreams--or dream, perhaps, I should say; for, though repeated, it
+was still the same. And what do you imagine was its subject?"
+
+"It is impossible for me to divine," said the tongue; "I have not the
+least difficulty in guessing," said the eye, as plainly as ever eye
+spoke.
+
+"I dreamt--of your great-grandfather!"
+
+There was a change in the glance--"My great-grandfather?"
+
+"Yes, the old Sir Giles, or Sir John, you told me about the other day:
+he walked into my bedroom in his short cloak of murrey-colored velvet,
+his long rapier, and his Raleigh-looking hat and feather, just as the
+picture represents him; but with one exception."
+
+"And what was that?"
+
+"Why, his lower extremities, which were visible, were those of a
+skeleton."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, after taking a turn or two about the room, and looking round him
+with a wistful air, he came to the bed's foot, stared at me in a manner
+impossible to describe--and then he--he laid hold of my pantaloons;
+whipped his long bony legs into them in a twinkling; and strutting up to
+the glass, seemed to view himself in it with great complacency. I tried
+to speak, but in vain. The effort, however, seemed to excite his
+attention; for, wheeling about, he showed me the grimmest-looking
+death's head you can well imagine, and with an indescribable grin
+strutted out of the room."
+
+"Absurd! Charles. How can you talk such nonsense?"
+
+"But, Caroline--the breeches are really gone."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the following morning, contrary to his usual custom, Seaforth was the
+first person in the breakfast parlor. As no one else was present, he did
+precisely what nine young men out of ten so situated would have done; he
+walked up to the mantelpiece, established himself upon the rug, and
+subducting his coat-tails one under each arm, turned towards the fire
+that portion of the human frame which it is considered equally
+indecorous to present to a friend or an enemy. A serious, not to say
+anxious, expression was visible upon his good-humored countenance, and
+his mouth was fast buttoning itself up for an incipient whistle, when
+little Flo, a tiny spaniel of the Blenheim breed--the pet object of Miss
+Julia Simpkinson's affections--bounced out from beneath a sofa, and
+began to bark at--his pantaloons.
+
+They were cleverly "built," of a light-grey mixture, a broad stripe of
+the most vivid scarlet traversing each seam in a perpendicular direction
+from hip to ankle--in short, the regimental costume of the Royal Bombay
+Fencibles. The animal, educated in the country, had never seen such a
+pair of breeches in her life--_Omne ignotum pro magnifico!_ The scarlet
+streak, inflamed as it was by the reflection of the fire, seemed to act
+on Flora's nerves as the same color does on those of bulls and turkeys;
+she advanced at the _pas de charge_, and her vociferation, like her
+amazement, was unbounded. A sound kick from the disgusted officer
+changed its character, and induced a retreat at the very moment when the
+mistress of the pugnacious quadruped entered to the rescue.
+
+"Lassy me! Flo, what _is_ the matter?" cried the sympathizing lady, with
+a scrutinizing glance leveled at the gentleman.
+
+It might as well have lighted on a feather bed. His air of imperturbable
+unconsciousness defied examination; and as he would not, and Flora could
+not, expound, that injured individual was compelled to pocket up her
+wrongs. Others of the household soon dropped in, and clustered round the
+board dedicated to the most sociable of meals; the urn was paraded
+"hissing hot," and the cups which "cheer, but not inebriate," steamed
+redolent of hyson and pekoe; muffins and marmalade, newspapers, and
+Finnan haddies, left little room for observation on the character of
+Charles's warlike "turn-out." At length a look from Caroline, followed
+by a smile that nearly ripened to a titter, caused him to turn abruptly
+and address his neighbor. It was Miss Simpkinson, who, deeply engaged in
+sipping her tea and turning over her album, seemed, like a female
+Chrononotonthologos, "immersed in cogibundity of cogitation." An
+interrogatory on the subject of her studies drew from her the confession
+that she was at that moment employed in putting the finishing touches to
+a poem inspired by the romantic shades of Bolsover. The entreaties of
+the company were of course urgent. Mr. Peters, "who liked verses," was
+especially persevering, and Sappho at length compliant. After a
+preparatory hem! and a glance at the mirror to ascertain that her look
+was sufficiently sentimental, the poetess began:--
+
+    "There is a calm, a holy feeling,
+      Vulgar minds, can never know,
+    O'er the bosom softly stealing,--
+      Chasten'd grief, delicious woe!
+    Oh! how sweet at eve regaining
+      Yon lone tower's sequester'd shade--
+    Sadly mute and uncomplaining----"
+
+"--Yow!--yeough!--yeough!--yow!--yow!" yelled a hapless sufferer from
+beneath the table. It was an unlucky hour for quadrupeds; and if "every
+dog will have his day," he could not have selected a more unpropitious
+one than this. Mrs. Ogleton, too, had a pet--a favorite pug--whose squab
+figure, black muzzle, and tortuosity of tail, that curled like a head of
+celery in a salad-bowl, bespoke his Dutch extraction. Yow! yow! yow!
+continued the brute--a chorus in which Flo instantly joined. Sooth to
+say, pug had more reason to express his dissatisfaction than was given
+him by the muse of Simpkinson; the other only barked for company.
+Scarcely had the poetess got through her first stanza, when Tom
+Ingoldsby, in the enthusiasm of the moment, became so lost in the
+material world, that, in his abstraction, he unwarily laid his hand on
+the cock of the urn. Quivering with emotion, he gave it such an unlucky
+twist, that the full stream of its scalding contents descended on the
+gingerbread hide of the unlucky Cupid. The confusion was complete; the
+whole economy of the table disarranged--the company broke up in most
+admired disorder--and "vulgar minds will never know" anything more of
+Miss Simpkinson's ode till they peruse it in some forthcoming Annual.
+
+Seaforth profited by the confusion to take the delinquent who had caused
+this "stramash" by the arm, and to lead him to the lawn, where he had a
+word or two for his private ear. The conference between the young
+gentlemen was neither brief in its duration nor unimportant in its
+result. The subject was what the lawyers call tripartite, embracing the
+information that Charles Seaforth was over head and ears in love with
+Tom Ingoldsby's sister; secondly, that the lady had referred him to
+"papa" for his sanction; thirdly, and lastly, his nightly visitations
+and consequent bereavement. At the two first times Tom smiled
+suspiciously--at the last he burst out into an absolute "guffaw."
+
+"Steal your breeches! Miss Bailey over again, by Jove," shouted
+Ingoldsby. "But a gentleman, you say--and Sir Giles, too. I am not sure,
+Charles, whether I ought not to call you out for aspersing the honor of
+the family."
+
+"Laugh as you will, Tom--be as incredulous as you please. One fact is
+incontestable--the breeches are gone! Look here--I am reduced to my
+regimentals; and if these go, to-morrow I must borrow of you!"
+
+Rochefoucault says, there is something in the misfortunes of our very
+best friends that does not displease us; assuredly we can, most of us,
+laugh at their petty inconveniences, till called upon to supply them.
+Tom composed his features on the instant, and replied with more gravity,
+as well as with an expletive, which, if my Lord Mayor had been within
+hearing might have cost him five shillings.
+
+"There is something very queer in this, after all. The clothes, you say,
+have positively disappeared. Somebody is playing you a trick; and, ten
+to one, your servant had a hand in it. By the way, I heard something
+yesterday of his kicking up a bobbery in the kitchen, and seeing a
+ghost, or something of that kind, himself. Depend upon it, Barney is in
+the plot."
+
+It now struck the lieutenant at once, that the usually buoyant spirits
+of his attendant had of late been materially sobered down, his loquacity
+obviously circumscribed, and that he, the said lieutenant, had actually
+rung his bell three several times that very morning before he could
+procure his attendance. Mr. Maguire was forthwith summoned, and
+underwent a close examination. The "bobbery" was easily explained. Mr.
+Oliver Dobbs had hinted his disapprobation of a flirtation carrying on
+between the gentleman from Munster and the lady from the Rue St. Honore.
+Mademoiselle had boxed Mr. Maguire's ears, and Mr. Maguire had pulled
+Mademoiselle upon his knee, and the lady had _not_ cried _Mon Dieu_! And
+Mr. Oliver Dobbs said it was very wrong; and Mrs. Botherby said it was
+"scandalous," and what ought not to be done in any moral kitchen; and
+Mr. Maguire had got hold of the Honorable Augustus Sucklethumbkin's
+powder-flask, and had put large pinches of the best Double Dartford into
+Mr. Dobbs's tobacco-box; and Mr. Dobbs's pipe had exploded, and set fire
+to Mrs. Botherby's Sunday cap; and Mr. Maguire had put it out with the
+slop-basin, "barring the wig"; and then they were all so "cantankerous,"
+that Barney had gone to take a walk in the garden; and then--then Mr.
+Barney had seen a ghost.
+
+"A what? you blockhead!" asked Tom Ingoldsby.
+
+"Sure then, and it's meself will tell your honor the rights of it," said
+the ghost-seer. "Meself and Miss Pauline, sir--or Miss Pauline and
+meself, for the ladies comes first anyhow--we got tired of the
+hobstroppylous scrimmaging among the ould servants, that didn't know a
+joke when they seen one: and we went out to look at the comet--that's
+the rorybory-alehouse, they calls him in this country--and we walked
+upon the lawn--and divil of any alehouse there was there at all; and
+Miss Pauline said it was bekase of the shrubbery maybe, and why wouldn't
+we see it better beyonst the tree? and so we went to the trees, but
+sorrow a comet did meself see there, barring a big ghost instead of it."
+
+"A ghost? And what sort of a ghost, Barney?"
+
+"Och, then, divil a lie I'll tell your honor. A tall ould gentleman he
+was, all in white, with a shovel on the shoulder of him, and a big torch
+in his fist--though what he wanted with that it's meself can't tell, for
+his eyes were like gig-lamps, let alone the moon and the comet, which
+wasn't there at all--and 'Barney,' says he to me--'cause why he knew
+me--'Barney,' says he, 'what is it you're doing with the _colleen_
+there, Barney?'--Divil a word did I say. Miss Pauline screeched, and
+cried murther in French, and ran off with herself; and of course meself
+was in a mighty hurry after the lady, and had no time to stop palavering
+with him any way: so I dispersed at once, and the ghost vanished in a
+flame of fire!"
+
+Mr. Maguire's account was received with avowed incredulity by both
+gentlemen; but Barney stuck to his text with unflinching pertinacity. A
+reference to Mademoiselle was suggested, but abandoned, as neither party
+had a taste for delicate investigations.
+
+"I'll tell you what, Seaforth," said Ingoldsby, after Barney had
+received his dismissal, "that there is a trick here, is evident; and
+Barney's vision may possibly be a part of it. Whether he is most knave
+or fool, you best know. At all events, I will sit up with you to-night,
+and see if I can convert my ancestor into a visiting acquaintance.
+Meanwhile your finger on your lip!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'Twas now the very witching time of night,
+    When churchyards yawn, and graves give up their dead.
+
+Gladly would I grace my tale with decent horror, and therefore I do
+beseech the "gentle reader" to believe, that if all the _succedanea_ to
+this mysterious narrative are not in strict keeping, he will ascribe it
+only to the disgraceful innovations of modern degeneracy upon the sober
+and dignified habits of our ancestors. I can introduce him, it is true,
+into an old and high-roofed chamber, its walls covered in three sides
+with black oak wainscoting, adorned with carvings of fruit and flowers
+long anterior to those of Grinling Gibbons; the fourth side is clothed
+with a curious remnant of dingy tapestry, once elucidatory of some
+Scriptural history, but of _which_ not even Mrs. Botherby could
+determine. Mr. Simpkinson, who had examined it carefully, inclined to
+believe the principal figure to be either Bathsheba, or Daniel in the
+lions' den; while Tom Ingoldsby decided in favor of the king of Bashan.
+All, however, was conjecture, tradition being silent on the subject. A
+lofty arched portal led into, and a little arched portal led out of,
+this apartment; they were opposite each other, and each possessed the
+security of massy bolts on its interior. The bedstead, too, was not one
+of yesterday, but manifestly coeval with days ere Seddons was, and when
+a good four-post "article" was deemed worthy of being a royal bequest.
+The bed itself, with all the appurtenances of palliasse, mattresses,
+etc., was of far later date, and looked most incongruously comfortable;
+the casements, too, with their little diamond-shaped panes and iron
+binding, had given way to the modern heterodoxy of the sash-window. Nor
+was this all that conspired to ruin the costume, and render the room a
+meet haunt for such "mixed spirits" only as could condescend to don at
+the same time an Elizabethan doublet and Bond Street inexpressibles.
+
+With their green morocco slippers on a modern fender, in front of a
+disgracefully modern grate, sat two young gentlemen, clad in "shawl
+pattern" dressing-gowns and black silk stocks, much at variance with
+the high cane-backed chairs which supported them. A bunch of
+abomination, called a cigar, reeked in the left-hand corner of the mouth
+of one, and in the right-hand corner of the mouth of the other--an
+arrangement happily adapted for the escape of the noxious fumes up the
+chimney, without that unmerciful "funking" each other, which a less
+scientific disposition of the weed would have induced. A small pembroke
+table filled up the intervening space between them, sustaining, at each
+extremity, an elbow and a glass of toddy--thus in "lonely pensive
+contemplation" were the two worthies occupied, when the "iron tongue of
+midnight had tolled twelve."
+
+"Ghost-time's come!" said Ingoldsby, taking from his waistcoat pocket a
+watch like a gold half-crown, and consulting it as though he suspected
+the turret-clock over the stables of mendacity.
+
+"Hush!" said Charles; "did I not hear a footstep?"
+
+There was a pause--there _was_ a footstep--it sounded distinctly--it
+reached the door it hesitated, stopped, and--passed on.
+
+Tom darted across the room, threw open the door, and became aware of
+Mrs. Botherby toddling to her chamber, at the other end of the gallery,
+after dosing one of the housemaids with an approved julep from the
+Countess of Kent's "Choice Manual."
+
+"Good-night, sir!" said Mrs. Botherby.
+
+"Go to the d----l!" said the disappointed ghost-hunter.
+
+An hour--two--rolled on, and still no spectral visitation; nor did aught
+intervene to make night hideous; and when the turret-clock sounded at
+length the hour of three, Ingoldsby, whose patience and grog were alike
+exhausted, sprang from his chair, saying:
+
+"This is all infernal nonsense, my good fellow. Deuce of any ghost shall
+we see to-night; it's long past the canonical hour. I'm off to bed; and
+as to your breeches, I'll insure them for the next twenty-four hours at
+least, at the price of the buckram."
+
+"Certainly.--Oh! thank'ee--to be sure!" stammered Charles, rousing
+himself from a reverie, which had degenerated into an absolute snooze.
+
+"Good-night, my boy! Bolt the door behind me; and defy the Pope, the
+Devil, and the Pretender!"
+
+Seaforth followed his friend's advice, and the next morning came down to
+breakfast dressed in the habiliments of the preceding day. The charm was
+broken, the demon defeated; the light greys with the red stripe down the
+seams were yet _in rerum natura_, and adorned the person of their lawful
+proprietor.
+
+Tom felicitated himself and his partner of the watch on the result of
+their vigilance; but there is a rustic adage, which warns us against
+self-gratulation before we are quite "out of the wood."--Seaforth was
+yet within its verge.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A rap at Tom Ingoldsby's door the following morning startled him as he
+was shaving--he cut his chin.
+
+"Come in, and be d----d to you!" said the martyr, pressing his thumb on
+the scarified epidermis. The door opened, and exhibited Mr. Barney
+Maguire.
+
+"Well, Barney, what is it?" quoth the sufferer, adopting the vernacular
+of his visitant.
+
+"The master, sir----"
+
+"Well, what does he want?"
+
+"The loanst of a breeches, plase your honor."
+
+"Why, you don't mean to tell me--By Heaven, this is too good!" shouted
+Tom, bursting into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "Why, Barney, you
+don't mean to say the ghost has got them again?"
+
+Mr. Maguire did not respond to the young squire's risibility; the cast
+of his countenance was decidedly serious.
+
+"Faith, then, it's gone they are sure enough! Hasn't meself been looking
+over the bed, and under the bed, and _in_ the bed, for the matter of
+that, and divil a ha'p'orth of breeches is there to the fore at
+all:--I'm bothered entirely!"
+
+"Hark'ee! Mr. Barney," said Tom, incautiously removing his thumb, and
+letting a crimson stream "incarnadine the multitudinous" lather that
+plastered his throat--"this may be all very well with your master, but
+you don't humbug _me_, sir:--Tell me instantly what have you done with
+the clothes?"
+
+This abrupt transition from "lively to severe" certainly took Maguire by
+surprise, and he seemed for an instant as much disconcerted as it is
+possible to disconcert an Irish gentleman's gentleman.
+
+"Me? is it meself, then, that's the ghost to your honor's thinking?"
+said he after a moment's pause, and with a slight shade of indignation
+in his tones; "is it I would stale the master's things--and what would I
+do with them?"
+
+"That you best know: what your purpose is I can't guess, for I don't
+think you mean to 'stale' them, as you call it; but that you are
+concerned in their disappearance, I am satisfied. Confound this
+blood!--give me a towel, Barney."
+
+Maguire acquitted himself of the commission. "As I've a sowl, your
+honor," said he, solemnly, "little it is meself knows of the matter: and
+after what I seen----"
+
+"What you've seen! Why, what _have_ you seen?--Barney, I don't want to
+inquire into your flirtations; but don't suppose you can palm off your
+saucer eyes and gig-lamps upon me!"
+
+"Then, as sure as your honor's standing there, I saw him: and why
+wouldn't I, when Miss _Pauline_ was to the fore as well as meself,
+and----"
+
+"Get along with your nonsense--leave the room, sir!"
+
+"But the master?" said Barney, imploringly; "and without a
+breeches?--sure he'll be catching cowld----!"
+
+"Take that, rascal!" replied Ingoldsby, throwing a pair of pantaloons
+at, rather than to, him: "but don't suppose, sir, you shall carry on
+your tricks here with impunity; recollect there is such a thing as a
+treadmill, and that my father is a county magistrate."
+
+Barney's eye flashed fire--he stood erect, and was about to speak; but,
+mastering himself, not without an effort, he took up the garment, and
+left the room as perpendicular as a Quaker.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Ingoldsby," said Charles Seaforth, after breakfast, "this is now past a
+joke; to-day is the last of my stay; for, notwithstanding the ties which
+detain me, common decency obliges me to visit home after so long an
+absence. I shall come to an immediate explanation with your father on
+the subject nearest my heart, and depart while I have a change of dress
+left. On his answer will my return depend! In the meantime tell me
+candidly--I ask it in all seriousness, and as a friend--am I not a dupe
+to your well-known propensity to hoaxing? have you not a hand in----"
+
+"No, by heaven, Seaforth; I see what you mean: on my honor, I am as much
+mystified as yourself; and if your servant----"
+
+"Not he:--If there be a trick, he at least is not privy to it."
+
+"If there _be_ a trick? why, Charles, do you, think----"
+
+"I know not _what_ to think, Tom. As surely as you are a living man, so
+surely did that spectral anatomy visit my room again last night, grin in
+my face, and walk away with my trousers; nor was I able to spring from
+my bed, or break the chain which seemed to bind me to my pillow."
+
+"Seaforth!" said Ingoldsby, after a short pause, "I will--But hush! here
+are the girls and my father. I will carry off the females, and leave you
+a clear field with the governor: carry your point with him, and we will
+talk about your breeches afterwards."
+
+Tom's diversion was successful; he carried off the ladies _en masse_ to
+look at a remarkable specimen of the class _Dodecandria
+Monogynia_--which they could not find--while Seaforth marched boldly up
+to the encounter, and carried "the governor's" outworks by a _coup de
+main_. I shall not stop to describe the progress of the attack; suffice
+it that it was as successful as could have been wished, and that
+Seaforth was referred back again to the lady. The happy lover was off at
+a tangent; the botanical party was soon overtaken; and the arm of
+Caroline, whom a vain endeavor to spell out the Linnaean name of a
+daffy-down-dilly had detained a little in the rear of the others, was
+soon firmly locked in his own.
+
+        What was the world to them,
+    Its noise, its nonsense and its "breeches" all?
+
+Seaforth was in the seventh heaven; he retired to his room that night as
+happy as if no such thing as a goblin had ever been heard of, and
+personal chattels were as well fenced in by law as real property. Not so
+Tom Ingoldsby: the mystery--for mystery there evidently was--had not
+only piqued his curiosity, but ruffled his temper. The watch of the
+previous night had been unsuccessful, probably because it was
+undisguised. To-night he would "ensconce himself"--not indeed "behind
+the arras"--for the little that remained was, as we have seen, nailed to
+the wall--but in a small closet which opened from one corner of the
+room, and by leaving the door ajar, would give to its occupant a view of
+all that might pass in the apartment. Here did the young ghost-hunter
+take up a position, with a good stout sapling under his arm, a full
+half-hour before Seaforth retired for the night. Not even his friend did
+he let into his confidence, fully determined that if his plan did not
+succeed, the failure should be attributed to himself alone.
+
+At the usual hour of separation for the night, Tom saw, from his
+concealment, the lieutenant enter his room, and after taking a few turns
+in it, with an expression so joyous as to betoken that his thoughts were
+mainly occupied by his approaching happiness, proceed slowly to disrobe
+himself. The coat, the waistcoat, the black silk stock, were gradually
+discarded; the green morocco slippers were kicked off, and then--ay, and
+then--his countenance grew grave; it seemed to occur to him all at once
+that this was his last stake--nay, that the very breeches he had on were
+not his own--that to-morrow morning was his last, and that if he lost
+_them_--A glance showed that his mind was made up; he replaced the
+single button he had just subducted, and threw himself upon the bed in a
+state of transition--half chrysalis, half grub.
+
+Wearily did Tom Ingoldsby watch the sleeper by the flickering light of
+the night-lamp, till the clock striking one, induced him to increase the
+narrow opening which he had left for the purpose of observation. The
+motion, slight as it was, seemed to attract Charles's attention; for he
+raised himself suddenly to a sitting posture, listened for a moment, and
+then stood upright upon the floor. Ingoldsby was on the point of
+discovering himself, when, the light flashing full upon his friend's
+countenance, he perceived that, though his eyes were open, "their sense
+was shut"--that he was yet under the influence of sleep. Seaforth
+advanced slowly to the toilet, lit his candle at the lamp that stood on
+it, then, going back to the bed's foot, appeared to search eagerly for
+something which he could not find. For a few moments he seemed restless
+and uneasy, walking round the apartment and examining the chairs, till,
+coming fully in front of a large swing-glass that flanked the
+dressing-table, he paused as if contemplating his figure in it. He now
+returned towards the bed; put on his slippers, and, with cautious and
+stealthy steps, proceeded towards the little arched doorway that opened
+on the private staircase.
+
+As he drew the bolt, Tom Ingoldsby emerged from his hiding-place; but
+the sleep-walker heard him not; he proceeded softly downstairs, followed
+at a due distance by his friend; opened the door which led out upon the
+gardens; and stood at once among the thickest of the shrubs, which there
+clustered round the base of a corner turret, and screened the postern
+from common observation. At this moment Ingoldsby had nearly spoiled all
+by making a false step: the sound attracted Seaforth's attention--he
+paused and turned; and, as the full moon shed her light directly upon
+his pale and troubled features, Tom marked, almost with dismay, the
+fixed and rayless appearance of his eyes:
+
+    There was no speculation in those orbs
+    That he did glare withal.
+
+The perfect stillness preserved by his follower seemed to reassure him;
+he turned aside, and from the midst of a thickest laurustinus drew forth
+a gardener's spade, shouldering which he proceeded with great rapidity
+into the midst of the shrubbery. Arrived at a certain point where the
+earth seemed to have been recently disturbed, he set himself heartily
+to the task of digging, till, having thrown up several shovelfuls of
+mould, he stopped, flung down his tool, and very composedly began to
+disencumber himself of his pantaloons.
+
+Up to this moment Tom had watched him with a wary eye; he now advanced
+cautiously, and, as his friend was busily engaged in disentangling
+himself from his garment, made himself master of the spade. Seaforth,
+meanwhile, had accomplished his purpose: he stood for a moment with
+
+    His streamers waving in the wind,
+
+occupied in carefully rolling up the small-clothes into as compact a
+form as possible, and all heedless of the breath of heaven, which might
+certainly be supposed at such a moment, and in such a plight, to "visit
+his frame too roughly."
+
+He was in the act of stooping low to deposit the pantaloons in the grave
+which he had been digging for them, when Tom Ingoldsby came close behind
+him, and with the flat side of the spade----
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The shock was effectual; never again was Lieutenant Seaforth known to
+act the part of a somnambulist. One by one, his breeches--his
+trousers--his pantaloons--his silk-net tights--his patent cords--his
+showy greys with the broad red stripe of the Bombay Fencibles were
+brought to light--rescued from the grave in which they had been buried,
+like the strata of a Christmas pie; and after having been well aired by
+Mrs. Botherby, became once again effective.
+
+The family, the ladies especially, laughed; the Peterses laughed; the
+Simpkinsons laughed;--Barney Maguire cried "Botheration!" and _Ma'mselle
+Pauline_, "_Mon Dieu!_"
+
+Charles Seaforth, unable to face the quizzing which awaited him on all
+sides, started off two hours earlier than he had proposed:--he soon
+returned, however; and having, at his father-in-law's request, given up
+the occupation of Rajah-hunting and shooting Nabobs, led his blushing
+bride to the altar.
+
+Mr. Simpkinson from Bath did not attend the ceremony, being engaged at
+the Grand Junction meeting of _Scavans_, then, congregating from all
+parts of the known world in the city of Dublin. His essay, demonstrating
+that the globe is a great custard, whipped into coagulation by
+whirlwinds and cooked by electricity--a little too much baked in the
+Isle of Portland, and a thought underdone about the Bog of Allen--was
+highly spoken of, and narrowly escaped obtaining a Bridgewater prize.
+
+Miss Simpkinson and her sister acted as brides-maids on the occasion;
+the former wrote an _epithalamium_, and the latter cried "Lassy me!" at
+the clergyman's wig. Some years have since rolled on; the union has been
+crowned with two or three tidy little off-shoots from the family tree,
+of whom Master Neddy is "grandpapa's darling," and Mary Anne mamma's
+particular "Sock." I shall only add, that Mr. and Mrs. Seaforth are
+living together quite as happily as two good-hearted, good-tempered
+bodies, very fond of each other, can possibly do; and that, since the
+day of his marriage, Charles has shown no disposition to jump out of
+bed, or ramble out of doors o' nights--though from his entire devotion
+to every wish and whim of his young wife, Tom insinuates that the fair
+Caroline does still occasionally take advantage of it so far as to "slip
+on the breeches."
+
+
+
+
+IN THE BARN
+
+BY BURGES JOHNSON
+
+From the _Century Magazine_, June, 1920. By permission of the Century
+Company and Burges Johnson.
+
+
+
+
+In the Barn
+
+BY BURGES JOHNSON
+
+
+The moment we had entered the barn, I regretted the rash good nature
+which prompted me to consent to the plans of those vivacious young
+students. Miss Anstell and Miss Royce and one or two others, often
+leaders in student mischief, I suspect, were the first to enter, and
+they amused themselves by hiding in the darkness and greeting the rest
+of our party as we entered with sundry shrieks and moans such as are
+commonly attributed to ghosts. My wife and I brought up the rear,
+carrying the two farm lanterns. She had selected the place after an
+amused consideration of the question, and I confess I hardly approved
+her judgment. But she is native to this part of the country, and she had
+assured us that there were some vague traditions hanging about the
+building that made it most suitable for our purposes.
+
+It was a musty old place, without even as much tidiness as is usually
+found in barns, and there was a dank smell about it, as though
+generations of haymows had decayed there. There were holes in the floor,
+and in the dusk of early evening it was necessary for us to pick our
+way with the greatest care. It occurred to me then, in a premonitory
+sort of way, that if some young woman student sprained her ankle in this
+absurd environment, I should be most embarrassed to explain it.
+Apparently it was a hay barn, whose vague dimensions were lost in
+shadow. Rafters crossed its width about twenty feet above our heads, and
+here and there a few boards lay across the rafters, furnishing foothold
+for anyone who might wish to operate the ancient pulley that was
+doubtless once used for lifting bales. The northern half of the floor
+was covered with hay to a depth of two or three feet. How long it had
+actually been there I cannot imagine. It was extremely dusty, and I
+feared a recurrence of my old enemy, hay fever; but it was too late to
+offer objection on such grounds, and my wife and I followed our
+chattering guides, who disposed themselves here and there on this
+ancient bed of hay, and insisted that we should find places in the
+center of their circle.
+
+At my suggestion, the two farm lanterns had been left at a suitable
+distance, in fact, quite at the other side of the barn, and our only
+light came from the rapidly falling twilight of outdoors, which found
+its way through a little window and sundry cracks high in the eaves
+above the rafters.
+
+There was something about the place, now that we were settled and no
+longer occupied with adjustments of comfort, that subdued our spirits,
+and it was with much less hilarity that the young people united in
+demanding a story. I looked across at my wife, whose face was faintly
+visible within the circle. I thought that even in the half-light I
+glimpsed the same expression of amused incredulity which she had worn
+earlier in the day when I had yielded to the importunities of a
+deputation of my students for this ghost-story party on the eve of a
+holiday.
+
+"There is no reason," I thought to myself, repeating the phrases I had
+used then--"there is no reason why I should not tell a ghost story.
+True, I had never done so before, but the literary attainments which
+have enabled me to perfect my recent treatise upon the 'Disuse of the
+Comma' are quite equal to impromptu experimentation in the field of
+psychic phenomena." I was aware that the young people themselves hardly
+expected serious acquiescence, and that, too, stimulated me. I cleared
+my throat in a prefatory manner, and silence fell upon the group. A
+light breeze had risen outside, and the timbers of the barn creaked
+persistently. From the shadows almost directly overhead there came a
+faint clanking. It was evidently caused by the rusty pulley-wheel which
+I had observed there as we entered. An iron hook at the end of an
+ancient rope still depended from it, and swung in the lightly stirring
+air several feet above our heads, directly over the center of our
+circle.
+
+Some curious combination of influences--perhaps the atmosphere of the
+place, added to the stimulation of the faintly discernible faces around
+me, and my impulse to prove my own ability in this untried field of
+narration--gave me a sudden sense of being inspired. I found myself
+voicing fancies as though they were facts, and readily including
+imaginary names and data which certainly were not in any way
+premeditated.
+
+"This barn stands on the old Creed place," I began. "Peter Creed was its
+last owner, but I suppose that it has always been and always will be
+known as the Turner barn. A few yards away to the south you will find
+the crumbling brick-work and gaping hollows of an old foundation, now
+overgrown with weeds that almost conceal a few charred timbers. That is
+all that is left of the old Ashley Turner house."
+
+I cleared my throat again, not through any effort to gain time for my
+thoughts, but to feel for a moment the satisfaction arising from the
+intent attitude of my audience, particularly my wife, who had leaned
+forward and was looking at me with an expression of startled surprise.
+
+"Ashley Turner must have had a pretty fine-looking farm here thirty
+years or so ago," I continued, "when he brought his wife to it. This
+barn was new then. But he was a ne'er-do-well, with nothing to be said
+in his favor, unless you admit his fame as a practical joker. Strange
+how the ne'er-do-well is often equipped with an extravagant sense of
+humor! Turner had a considerable retinue among the riffraff boys of the
+neighborhood, who made this barn a noisy rendezvous and followed his
+hints in much whimsical mischief. But he committed most of his practical
+jokes when drunk, and in his sober moments he abused his family and let
+his wife struggle to keep up the acres, assisted only by a
+half-competent man of all work. Finally he took to roving. No one knew
+how he got pocket-money; his wife could not have given him any. Then
+someone discovered that he was going over to Creed's now and then, and
+everything was explained."
+
+This concise data of mine was evidently not holding the close attention
+of my youthful audience. They annoyed me by frequent pranks and
+whisperings. No one could have been more surprised at my glibness than I
+myself, except perhaps my wife, whose attitude of strained attention had
+not relaxed. I resumed my story.
+
+"Peter Creed was a good old-fashioned usurer of the worst type. He went
+to church regularly one day in the week and gouged his neighbors--any
+that he could get into his clutches--on the other six. He must have been
+lending Turner drinking money, and everyone knew what the security must
+be.
+
+"At last there came a day when the long-suffering wife revolted. Turner
+had come home extra drunk and in his most maudlin humor. Probably he
+attempted some drunken prank upon his over-taxed helpmate. Old Ike, the
+hired man, said that he thought Turner had rigged up some scare for her
+in the barn and that he had never heard anything so much like straight
+talking from his mistress, either before or since, and he was working in
+the woodshed at the time, with the door shut. Shortly after that tirade
+Ashley Turner disappeared, and no one saw or heard of him or thought
+about him for a couple of years except when the sight of his
+tired-looking wife and scrawny children revived the recollection.
+
+"At last, on a certain autumn day, old Peter Creed turned up here at the
+Turner place. I imagine Mrs. Turner knew what was in store for her when
+his rusty buggy came in sight around the corner of the barn. At any
+rate, she made no protest, and listened meekly to his curt statement
+that he held an overdue mortgage, with plenty of back interest owing,
+and it was time for her to go. She went. Neither she nor anyone else
+doubted Creed's rights in the matter, and, after all, I believe it got a
+better home for her somewhere in the long run."
+
+I paused here in my narration to draw breath and readjust my leg, which
+had become cramped. There was a general readjustment and shifting of
+position, with some levity. It was darker now. The rafters above us were
+invisible, and the faces about me looked oddly white against the shadowy
+background. After a moment or two of delay I cleared my throat sharply
+and continued.
+
+"Old Creed came thus into possession of this place, just as he had come
+to own a dozen others in the county. He usually lived on one until he
+was able to sell it at a good profit over his investment; so he settled
+down in the Turner house, and kept old Ike because he worked for little
+or nothing. But he seemed to have a hard time finding a purchaser.
+
+"It must have been about a year later when an unexpected thing happened.
+Creed had come out here to the barn to lock up--he always did that
+himself--when he noticed something unusual about the haymow--this
+haymow--which stood then about six feet above the barn floor. He looked
+closer through the dusk, and saw a pair of boots; went nearer, and found
+that they were fitted to a pair of human legs whose owner was sound
+asleep in his hay. Creed picked up a short stick and beat on one boot.
+
+"'Get out of here,' he said, 'or I'll have you locked up.' The sleeper
+woke in slow fashion, sat up, grinned, and said:
+
+"'Hello, Peter Creed.' It was Ashley Turner, beyond question. Creed
+stepped back a pace or two and seemed at a loss for words. An object
+slipped from Turner's pocket as he moved, slid along the hay, and fell
+to the barn floor. It was a half-filled whisky-flask.
+
+"No one knows full details of the conversation that ensued, of course.
+Such little as I am able to tell you of what was said and done comes
+through old Ike, who watched from a safe distance outside the barn,
+ready to act at a moment's notice as best suited his own safety and
+welfare. Of one thing Ike was certain--Creed lacked his usual
+browbeating manner. He was apparently struggling to assume an unwonted
+friendliness. Turner was very drunk, but triumphant, and his
+satisfaction over what he must have felt was the practical joke of his
+life seemed to make him friendly.
+
+"'I kept 'em all right,' he said again and again. 'I've got the proof. I
+wasn't working for nothing all these months. I ain't fool enough yet to
+throw away papers even when I'm drunk.'
+
+"To the watchful Ike's astonishment, Creed evidently tried to persuade
+him to come into the house for something to eat. Turner slid off the
+haymow, found his steps too unsteady, laughed foolishly, and suggested
+that Creed bring some food to him there. 'Guess I've got a right to
+sleep in the barn or house, whichever I want,' he said, leering into
+Creed's face. The old usurer stood there for a few minutes eying Turner
+thoughtfully. Then he actually gave him a shoulder back onto the hay,
+said something about finding a snack of supper, and started out of the
+barn. In the doorway he turned, looked back, then walked over to the
+edge of the mow and groped on the floor until he found the whisky-flask,
+picked it up, tossed it into Turner's lap, and stumbled out of the barn
+again."
+
+I was becoming interested in my own story and somewhat pleased with the
+fluency of it, but my audience annoyed me. There was intermittent
+whispering, with some laughter, and I inferred that one or another
+would occasionally stimulate this inattention by tickling a companion
+with a straw. Miss Anstell, who is so frivolous by nature that I
+sometimes question her right to a place in my classroom, I even
+suspected of irritating the back of my own neck in the same fashion.
+Naturally, I ignored it.
+
+"Peter Creed," I repeated, "went into the house. Ike hung around the
+barn, waiting. He was frankly curious. In a few minutes his employer
+reappeared, carrying a plate heaped with an assortment of scraps. Ike
+peered and listened then without compunction.
+
+"'It's the best I've got,' he heard Creed say grudgingly. Turner's tones
+were now more drunkenly belligerent.
+
+"'It had better be,' he said loudly. 'And I'll take the best bed after
+to-night.' Evidently he was eating and muttering between mouthfuls. 'You
+might have brought me another bottle.'
+
+"'I did,' said Creed, to the listening Ike's great astonishment. Turner
+laughed immoderately.
+
+"A long silence followed. Turner was either eating or drinking. Then he
+spoke again, more thickly and drowsily.
+
+"'Damn unpleasant that rope. Why don't you haul it up out of my way?'
+
+"'It don't hurt you any,' said Creed.
+
+"'Don't you wish it would?' said Turner, with drunken shrewdness. 'But I
+don't like it. Haul it away.'
+
+"'I will,' said Creed.
+
+"There was a longer silence, and then there came an intermittent rasping
+sound. A moment later Creed came suddenly from the barn. Ike fumbled
+with a large rake, and made as though to hang it on its accustomed peg
+near the barn door. Creed eyed him sharply. 'Get along to bed,' he
+ordered, and Ike obeyed.
+
+"That was a Saturday night. On Sunday morning Ike went to the barn later
+than usual and hesitatingly. Even then he was first to enter. He found
+the drunkard's body hanging here over the mow, just about where we are
+sitting, stark and cold. It was a gruesome end to a miserable
+home-coming."
+
+My audience was quiet enough now. Miss Anstell and one or two others
+giggled loudly, but it was obviously forced, and found no further echo.
+The breeze which had sprung up some time before was producing strange
+creakings and raspings in the old timbers, and the pulley-wheel far
+above us clanked with a dismal repetitious sound, like the tolling of a
+cracked bell.
+
+I waited a moment, well satisfied with the effect, and then continued.
+
+"The coroner's jury found it suicide, though some shook their heads
+meaningly. Turner had apparently sobered up enough to stand, and, making
+a simple loop around his neck by catching the rope through its own hook,
+had then slid off the mow. The rope which went over the pulley-wheel up
+there in the roof ran out through a window under the eaves, and was made
+fast near the barn door outside, where anyone could haul on it. Creed
+testified the knot was one he had tied many days before. Ike was a
+timorous old man, with a wholesome fear of his employer, and he
+supported the testimony and made no reference to his eavesdropping of
+the previous evening, though he heard Creed swear before the jury that
+he did not recognize the tramp he had fed and lodged. There were no
+papers in Turner's pockets; only a few coins, and a marked pocket-knife
+that gave the first clue to his identity.
+
+"A few of the neighbors said that it was a fitting end, and that the
+verdict was a just one. Nevertheless, whisperings began and increased.
+People avoided Creed and the neighborhood. Rumors grew that the barn was
+haunted. Passers-by on the road after dark said they heard the old
+pulley-wheel clanking when no breeze stirred, much as you hear it now.
+Some claim to have heard maudlin laughter. Possible purchasers were
+frightened away, and Creed grew more and more solitary and misanthropic.
+Old Ike hung on, Heaven knows why, though I suppose Creed paid him some
+sort of wage.
+
+"Rumors grew. Folks said that neither Ike nor Creed entered this barn
+after a time, and no hay was put in, though Creed would not have been
+Creed if he had not sold off the bulk of what he had, ghost or no ghost.
+I can imagine him slowly forking it out alone, daytimes, and the amount
+of hay still here proves that even he finally lost courage."
+
+I paused a moment, but though there was much uneasy stirring about, and
+the dismal clanking directly above us was incessant, no one of my
+audience spoke. It was wholly dark now, and I think all had drawn closer
+together.
+
+"About ten years ago people began calling Creed crazy." Here I was
+forced to interrupt my own story. "I shall have to ask you, Miss
+Anstell, to stop annoying me. I have been aware for some moments that
+you are brushing my head with a straw, but I have ignored it for the
+sake of the others." Out of the darkness came Miss Anstell's voice,
+protesting earnestly, and I realized from the direction of the sound
+that in the general readjustment she must have settled down in the very
+center of our circle, and could not be the one at fault. One of the
+others was childish enough to simulate a mocking burst of raucous
+laughter, but I chose to ignore it.
+
+"Very well," said I, graciously; "shall I go on?"
+
+"Go on," echoed a subdued chorus.
+
+"It was the night of the twenty-eighth of May, ten years ago----"
+
+"Not the twenty-eighth," broke in my wife's voice, sharply; "that is
+to-day's date." There was a note in her voice that I hardly recognized,
+but it indicated that she was in some way affected by my narration, and
+I felt a distinct sense of triumph.
+
+"It was the night of May twenty-eighth," I repeated firmly.
+
+"Are you making up this story?" my wife's voice continued, still with
+the same odd tone.
+
+"I am, my dear, and you are interrupting it."
+
+"But an Ashley Turner and later a Peter Creed owned this place," she
+persisted almost in a whisper, "and I am sure you never heard of them."
+
+I confess that I might wisely have broken off my story then and called
+for a light. There had been an hysterical note in my wife's voice, and I
+was startled at her words, for I had no conscious recollection of either
+name; yet I felt a resultant exhilaration. Our lanterns had grown
+strangely dim, though I was certain both had been recently trimmed and
+filled; and from their far corner of the barn they threw no light
+whatever into our circle. I faced an utter blackness.
+
+"On that night," said I, "old Ike was wakened by sounds as of someone
+fumbling to unbar and open the housedoor. It was an unwonted hour, and
+he peered from the window of his little room. By the dim starlight--it
+was just before dawn--he could see all of the open yard and roadway
+before the house, with the great barn looming like a black and sinister
+shadow as its farther barrier. Crossing this space, he saw the figure of
+Peter Creed, grotesquely stooped and old in the obscuring gloom, moving
+slowly, almost gropingly, and yet directly, as though impelled, toward
+the barn's overwhelming shadow. Slowly he unbarred the great door,
+swung it open, and entered the blacker shadows it concealed. The door
+closed after him.
+
+"Ike in his secure post of observation did not stir. He could not. Even
+to his crude imagining there was something utterly horrible in the
+thought of Creed alone at that hour in just such black darkness as this,
+with the great timbered chamber haunted at least by its dread memories.
+He could only wait, tense and fearful of he knew not what.
+
+"A shriek that pierced the silence relaxed his tension, bringing almost
+a sense of relief, so definite had been his expectancy. But it was a
+burst of shrill laughter, ribald, uncanny, undeniable, accompanying the
+shriek that gave him power of motion. He ran half naked a quarter of a
+mile to the nearest neighbor's and told his story."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"They found Creed hanging, the rope hooked simply around his neck. It
+was a silent jury that filed from the barn that morning after viewing
+the body. 'Suicide,' said they, after Ike, shivering and stammering, had
+testified, harking back to the untold evidence of that other morning
+years before. Yes, Creed was dead, with a terrible look on his wizen
+face, and the dusty old rope ran through its pulley-wheel and was fast
+to a beam high above.
+
+"'He must of climbed to the beam, made the rope fast, and jumped,' said
+the foreman, solemnly. 'He must of, he must of,' repeated the man,
+parrot-like, while the sweat stood out on his forehead, 'because there
+wasn't no other way; but as God is my judge, the knot in the rope and
+the dust on the beam ain't been disturbed for years.'"
+
+At this dramatic climax there was an audible sigh from my audience. I
+sat quietly for a time, content to allow the silence and the atmosphere
+of the place, which actually seemed surcharged with influences not of my
+creation, to add to the effect my story had caused. There was scarcely a
+movement in our circle; of that I felt sure. And yet once more, out of
+the almost tangible darkness above me, something seemed to reach down
+and brush against my head. A slight motion of air, sufficient to disturb
+my rather scanty locks, was additional proof that I was the butt of some
+prank that had just missed its objective. Then, with a fearful
+suddenness, close to my ear burst a shrill discord of laughter, so
+uncanny and so unlike the usual sound of student merriment that I
+started up, half wondering if I had heard it. Almost immediately after
+it the heavy darkness was torn again by a shriek so terrible in its
+intensity as completely to differentiate it from the other cries which
+followed.
+
+"Bring a light!" cried a voice that I recognized as that of my wife,
+though strangely distorted by emotion. There was a great confusion.
+Young women struggled from their places and impeded one another in the
+darkness; but finally, and it seemed an unbearable delay, someone
+brought a single lantern.
+
+Its frail light revealed Miss Anstell half upright from her place in the
+center of our circle, my wife's arms sustaining her weight. Her face, as
+well as I could see it, seemed darkened and distorted, and when we
+forced her clutching hands away from her bared throat we could see, even
+in that light, the marks of an angry, throttling scar entirely
+encircling it. Just above her head the old pulley-rope swayed menacingly
+in the faint breeze.
+
+My recollection is even now confused as to the following moments and our
+stumbling escape from that gruesome spot. Miss Anstell is now at her
+home, recovering from what her physician calls mental shock. My wife
+will not speak of it. The questions I would ask her are checked on my
+lips by the look of utter terror in her eyes. As I have confessed to
+you, my own philosophy is hard put to it to withstand not so much the
+community attitude toward what they are pleased to call my taste in
+practical joking, but to assemble and adjust the facts of my
+experience.
+
+
+
+
+A SHADY PLOT
+
+BY ELSIE BROWN
+
+This story was submitted as a class exercise in one of my short-story
+classes at Columbia University. At my request the author, Elsie Brown,
+contributed it to this volume.
+
+
+
+
+A Shady Plot
+
+BY ELSIE BROWN
+
+
+So I sat down to write a ghost story.
+
+Jenkins was responsible.
+
+"Hallock," he had said to me, "give us another on the supernatural this
+time. Something to give 'em the horrors; that's what the public wants,
+and your ghosts are live propositions."
+
+Well, I was in no position to contradict Jenkins, for, as yet, his
+magazine had been the only one to print my stuff. So I had said,
+"Precisely!" in the deepest voice I was capable of, and had gone out.
+
+I hadn't the shade of an idea, but at the time that didn't worry me in
+the least. You see, I had often been like that before and in the end
+things had always come my way--I didn't in the least know how or why. It
+had all been rather mysterious. You understand I didn't specialize in
+ghost stories, but more or less they seemed to specialize in me. A ghost
+story had been the first fiction I had written. Curious how that idea
+for a plot had come to me out of nowhere after I had chased inspiration
+in vain for months! Even now whenever Jenkins wanted a ghost, he called
+on me. And I had never found it healthy to contradict Jenkins. Jenkins
+always seemed to have an uncanny knowledge as to when the landlord or
+the grocer were pestering me, and he dunned me for a ghost. And somehow
+I'd always been able to dig one up for him, so I'd begun to get a bit
+cocky as to my ability.
+
+So I went home and sat down before my desk and sucked at the end of my
+pencil and waited, but nothing happened. Pretty soon my mind began to
+wander off on other things, decidedly unghostly and material things,
+such as my wife's shopping and how on earth I was going to cure her of
+her alarming tendency to take every new fad that came along and work it
+to death. But I realized _that_ would never get me any place, so I went
+back to staring at the ceiling.
+
+"This writing business _is_ delightful, isn't it?" I said sarcastically at
+last, out loud, too. You see, I had reached the stage of imbecility when
+I was talking to myself.
+
+"Yes," said a voice at the other end of the room, "I should say it is!"
+
+I admit I jumped. Then I looked around.
+
+It was twilight by this time and I had forgotten to turn on the lamp.
+The other end of the room was full of shadows and furniture. I sat
+staring at it and presently noticed something just taking shape. It was
+exactly like watching one of these moving picture cartoons being put
+together. First an arm came out, then a bit of sleeve of a stiff white
+shirtwaist, then a leg and a plaid skirt, until at last there she was
+complete,--whoever she was.
+
+She was long and angular, with enormous fishy eyes behind big
+bone-rimmed spectacles, and her hair in a tight wad at the back of her
+head (yes, I seemed able to see right through her head) and a jaw--well,
+it looked so solid that for the moment I began to doubt my very own
+senses and believe she was real after all.
+
+She came over and stood in front of me and glared--yes, positively
+glared down at me, although (to my knowledge) I had never laid eyes on
+the woman before, to say nothing of giving her cause to look at me like
+that.
+
+I sat still, feeling pretty helpless I can tell you, and at last she
+barked:
+
+"What are you gaping at?"
+
+I swallowed, though I hadn't been chewing anything.
+
+"Nothing," I said. "Absolutely nothing. My dear lady, I was merely
+waiting for you to tell me why you had come. And excuse me, but do you
+always come in sections like this? I should think your parts might get
+mixed up sometimes."
+
+"Didn't you send for me?" she crisped.
+
+Imagine how I felt at that!
+
+"Why, no. I--I don't seem to remember----"
+
+"Look here. Haven't you been calling on heaven and earth all afternoon
+to help you write a story?"
+
+I nodded, and then a possible explanation occurred to me and my spine
+got cold. Suppose this was the ghost of a stenographer applying for a
+job! I had had an advertisement in the paper recently. I opened my mouth
+to explain that the position was filled, and permanently so, but she
+stopped me.
+
+"And when I got back to the office from my last case and was ready for
+you, didn't you switch off to something else and sit there driveling so
+I couldn't attract your attention until just now?"
+
+"I--I'm very sorry, really."
+
+"Well, you needn't be, because I just came to tell you to stop bothering
+us for assistance; you ain't going to get it. We're going on Strike!"
+
+"What!"
+
+"You don't have to yell at me."
+
+"I--I didn't mean to yell," I said humbly. "But I'm afraid I didn't
+quite understand you. You said you were----"
+
+"Going on strike. Don't you know what a strike is? Not another plot do
+you get from us!"
+
+I stared at her and wet my lips.
+
+"Is--is that where they've been coming from?"
+
+"Of course. Where else?"
+
+"But my ghosts aren't a bit like you----"
+
+"If they were people wouldn't believe in them." She draped herself on
+the top of my desk among the pens and ink bottles and leaned towards me.
+"In the other life _I_ used to write."
+
+"You did!"
+
+She nodded.
+
+"But that has nothing to do with my present form. It might have, but I
+gave it up at last for that very reason, and went to work as a reader on
+a magazine." She sighed, and rubbed the end of her long eagle nose with
+a reminiscent finger. "Those were terrible days; the memory of them made
+me mistake purgatory for paradise, and at last when I attained my
+present state of being, I made up my mind that something should be done.
+I found others who had suffered similarly, and between us we organized
+'The Writer's Inspiration Bureau.' We scout around until we find a
+writer without ideas and with a mind soft enough to accept impression.
+The case is brought to the attention of the main office, and one of us
+assigned to it. When that case is finished we bring in a report."
+
+"But I never saw you before----"
+
+"And you wouldn't have this time if I hadn't come to announce the
+strike. Many a time I've leaned on your shoulder when you've thought
+_you_ were thinking hard--" I groaned, and clutched my hair. The very
+idea of that horrible scarecrow so much as touching me! and wouldn't my
+wife be shocked! I shivered. "But," she continued, "that's at an end.
+We've been called out of our beds a little too often in recent years,
+and now we're through."
+
+"But my dear madam, I assure you I have had nothing to do with that. I
+hope I'm properly grateful and all that, you see."
+
+"Oh, it isn't you," she explained patronizingly. "It's those Ouija board
+fanatics. There was a time when we had nothing much to occupy us and
+used to haunt a little on the side, purely for amusement, but not any
+more. We've had to give up haunting almost entirely. We sit at a desk
+and answer questions now. And such questions!"
+
+She shook her head hopelessly, and taking off her glasses wiped them,
+and put them back on her nose again.
+
+"But what have I got to do with this?"
+
+She gave me a pitying look and rose.
+
+"You're to exert your influence. Get all your friends and acquaintances
+to stop using the Ouija board, and then we'll start helping you to
+write."
+
+"But----"
+
+There was a footstep outside my door.
+
+"John! Oh, John!" called the voice of my wife.
+
+I waved my arms at the ghost with something of the motion of a beginner
+when learning to swim.
+
+"Madam, I must ask you to leave, and at once. Consider the impression if
+you were seen here----"
+
+The ghost nodded, and began, very sensibly, I thought, to demobilize and
+evaporate. First the brogans on her feet grew misty until I could see
+the floor through them, then the affection spread to her knees and
+gradually extended upward. By this time my wife was opening the door.
+
+"Don't forget the strike," she repeated, while her lower jaw began to
+disintegrate, and as my Lavinia crossed the room to me the last vestige
+of her ear faded into space.
+
+"John, why in the world are you sitting in the dark?"
+
+"Just--thinking, my dear."
+
+"Thinking, rubbish! You were talking out loud."
+
+I remained silent while she lit the lamps, thankful that her back was
+turned to me. When I am nervous or excited there is a muscle in my face
+that starts to twitch, and this pulls up one corner of my mouth and
+gives the appearance of an idiotic grin. So far I had managed to conceal
+this affliction from Lavinia.
+
+"You know I bought the loveliest thing this afternoon. Everybody's wild
+over them!"
+
+I remembered her craze for taking up new fads and a premonitory chill
+crept up the back of my neck.
+
+"It--it isn't----" I began and stopped. I simply couldn't ask; the
+possibility was too horrible.
+
+"You'd never guess in the world. It's the duckiest, darlingest Ouija
+board, and so cheap! I got it at a bargain sale. Why, what's the matter,
+John?"
+
+I felt things slipping.
+
+"Nothing," I said, and looked around for the ghost. Suppose she had
+lingered, and upon hearing what my wife had said should suddenly
+appear----Like all sensitive women, Lavinia was subject to hysterics.
+
+"But you looked so funny----"
+
+"I--I always do when I'm interested," I gulped. "But don't you think
+that was a foolish thing to buy?"
+
+"Foolish! Oh, John! Foolish! And after me getting it for you!"
+
+"For me! What do you mean?"
+
+"To help you write your stories. Why, for instance, suppose you wanted
+to write an historical novel. You wouldn't have to wear your eyes out
+over those musty old books in the public library. All you'd have to do
+would be to get out your Ouija and talk to Napoleon, or William the
+Conqueror, or Helen of Troy--well, maybe not Helen--anyhow you'd have
+all the local color you'd need, and without a speck of trouble. And
+think how easy writing your short stories will be now."
+
+"But Lavinia, you surely don't believe in Ouija boards."
+
+"I don't know, John--they are awfully thrilling."
+
+She had seated herself on the arm of my chair and was looking dreamily
+across the room. I started and turned around. There was nothing there,
+and I sank back with relief. So far so good.
+
+"Oh, certainly, they're thrilling all right. That's just it, they're a
+darn sight too thrilling. They're positively devilish. Now, Lavinia, you
+have plenty of sense, and I want you to get rid of that thing just as
+soon as you can. Take it back and get something else."
+
+My wife crossed her knees and stared at me through narrowed lids.
+
+"John Hallock," she said distinctly. "I don't propose to do anything of
+the kind. In the first place they won't exchange things bought at a
+bargain sale, and in the second, if you aren't interested in the other
+world _I_ am. So there!" and she slid down and walked from the room
+before I could think of a single thing to say. She walked very huffily.
+
+Well, it was like that all the rest of the evening. Just as soon as I
+mentioned Ouija boards I felt things begin to cloud up; so I decided to
+let it go for the present, in the hope that she might be more reasonable
+later.
+
+After supper I had another try at the writing, but as my mind continued
+a perfect blank I gave it up and went off to bed.
+
+The next day was Saturday, and it being near the end of the month and a
+particularly busy day, I left home early without seeing Lavinia.
+Understand, I haven't quite reached the point where I can give my whole
+time to writing, and being bookkeeper for a lumber company does help
+with the grocery bills and pay for Lavinia's fancy shopping. Friday had
+been a half holiday, and of course when I got back the work was piled up
+pretty high; so high, in fact, that ghosts and stories and everything
+else vanished in a perfect tangle of figures.
+
+When I got off the street car that evening my mind was still churning.
+I remember now that I noticed, even from the corner, how brightly the
+house was illuminated, but at the time that didn't mean anything to me.
+I recall as I went up the steps and opened the door I murmured:
+
+"Nine times nine is eighty-one!"
+
+And then Gladolia met me in the hall.
+
+"Misto Hallock, de Missus sho t'inks you's lost! She say she done 'phone
+you dis mawnin' to be home early, but fo' de lawd's sake not to stop to
+argify now, but get ready fo' de company an' come on down."
+
+Some memory of a message given me by one of the clerks filtered back
+through my brain, but I had been hunting three lost receipts at the
+time, and had completely forgotten it.
+
+"Company?" I said stupidly. "What company?"
+
+"De Missus's Ouija boahrd pahrty," said Gladolia, and rolling her eyes
+she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
+
+I must have gone upstairs and dressed and come down again, for I
+presently found myself standing in the dimly lighted lower hall wearing
+my second best suit and a fresh shirt and collar. But I have no
+recollections of the process.
+
+There was a great chattering coming from our little parlor and I went
+over to the half-opened door and peered through.
+
+The room was full of women--most of them elderly--whom I recognized as
+belonging to my wife's Book Club. They were sitting in couples, and
+between each couple was a Ouija board! The mournful squeak of the legs
+of the moving triangular things on which they rested their fingers
+filled the air and mixed in with the conversation. I looked around for
+the ghost with my heart sunk down to zero. What if Lavinia should see
+her and go mad before my eyes! And then my wife came and tapped me on
+the shoulder.
+
+"John," she said in her sweetest voice, and I noticed that her cheeks
+were very pink and her eyes very bright. My wife is never so pretty as
+when she's doing something she knows I disapprove of, "John, dear I know
+you'll help us out. Mrs. William Augustus Wainright 'phoned at the last
+moment to say that she couldn't possibly come, and that leaves poor
+Laura Hinkle without a partner. Now, John, I know _some_ people can work
+a Ouija by themselves, but Laura can't, and she'll just have a horrible
+time unless you----"
+
+"Me!" I gasped. "Me! I won't----" but even as I spoke she had taken my
+arm, and the next thing I knew I was sitting with the thing on my knees
+and Miss Laura Hinkle opposite, grinning in my face like a flirtatious
+crocodile.
+
+"I--I won't----" I began.
+
+"Now, Mr. Hallock, don't you be shy." Miss Laura Hinkle leaned forward
+and shook a bony finger almost under my chin.
+
+"I--I'm not! Only I say I won't----!"
+
+"No, it's very easy, really. You just put the tips of your fingers
+right here beside the tips of my fingers----"
+
+And the first thing I knew she had taken my hands and was coyly holding
+them in the position desired. She released them presently, and the
+little board began to slide around in an aimless sort of way. There
+seemed to be some force tugging it about. I looked at my partner, first
+with suspicion, and then with a vast relief. If she was doing it, then
+all that talk about spirits----Oh, I did hope Miss Laura Hinkle was
+cheating with that board!
+
+"Ouija, dear, won't you tell us something?" she cooed, and on the
+instant the thing seemed to take life.
+
+It rushed to the upper left hand corner of the board and hovered with
+its front leg on the word "Yes." Then it began to fly around so fast
+that I gave up any attempt to follow it. My companion was bending
+forward and had started to spell out loud:
+
+"'T-r-a-i-t-o-r.' Traitor! Why, what does she mean?"
+
+"I don't know," I said desperately. My collar felt very tight.
+
+"But she must mean something. Ouija, dear, won't you explain yourself
+more fully?"
+
+"'A-s-k-h-i-m!' Ask him. Ask who, Ouija?"
+
+"I--I'm going." I choked and tried to get up but my fingers seemed stuck
+to that dreadful board and I dropped back again.
+
+Apparently Miss Hinkle had not heard my protest. The thing was going
+around faster than ever and she was reading the message silently, with
+her brow corrugated, and the light of the huntress in her pale blue
+eyes.
+
+"Why, she says it's you, Mr. Hallock. What _does_ she mean? Ouija, won't
+you tell us who is talking?"
+
+I groaned, but that inexorable board continued to spell. I always did
+hate a spelling match! Miss Hinkle was again following it aloud:
+
+"'H-e-l-e-n.' Helen!" She raised her voice until it could be heard at
+the other end of the room. "Lavinia, dear, do you know anyone by the
+name of Helen?"
+
+"By the name of----? I can't hear you." And my wife made her way over to
+us between the Book Club's chairs.
+
+"You know the funniest thing has happened," she whispered excitedly.
+"Someone had been trying to communicate with John through Mrs. Hunt's
+and Mrs. Sprinkle's Ouija! Someone by the name of Helen----"
+
+"Why, _isn't_ that curious!"
+
+"What is?"
+
+Miss Hinkle simpered.
+
+"Someone giving the name of Helen has just been calling for your husband
+here."
+
+"But we don't know anyone by the name of Helen----"
+
+Lavinia stopped and began to look at me through narrowed lids much as
+she had done in the library the evening before.
+
+And then from different parts of the room other manipulators began to
+report. Every plagued one of those five Ouija boards was calling me by
+name! I felt my ears grow crimson, purple, maroon. My wife was looking
+at me as though I were some peculiar insect. The squeak of Ouija boards
+and the murmur of conversation rose louder and louder, and then I felt
+my face twitch in the spasm of that idiotic grin. I tried to straighten
+my wretched features into their usual semblance of humanity, I tried
+and----
+
+"Doesn't he look sly!" said Miss Hinkle. And then I got up and fled from
+the room.
+
+I do not know how that party ended. I do not want to know. I went
+straight upstairs, and undressed and crawled into bed, and lay there in
+the burning dark while the last guest gurgled in the hall below about
+the wonderful evening she had spent. I lay there while the front door
+shut after her, and Lavinia's steps came up the stairs and--passed the
+door to the guest room beyond. And then after a couple of centuries
+elapsed the clock struck three and I dozed off to sleep.
+
+At the breakfast table the next morning there was no sign of my wife. I
+concluded she was sleeping late, but Gladolia, upon being questioned,
+only shook her head, muttered something, and turned the whites of her
+eyes up to the ceiling. I was glad when the meal was over and hurried
+to the library for another try at that story.
+
+I had hardly seated myself at the desk when there came a tap at the door
+and a white slip of paper slid under it. I unfolded it and read:
+
+     "DEAR JOHN,
+
+     "I am going back to my grandmother. My lawyer will
+     communicate with you later."
+
+"Oh," I cried. "Oh, I wish I was dead!"
+
+And:
+
+"That's exactly what you ought to be!" said that horrible voice from the
+other end of the room.
+
+I sat up abruptly--I had sunk into a chair under the blow of the
+letter--then I dropped back again and my hair rose in a thick prickle on
+the top of my head. Coming majestically across the floor towards me was
+a highly polished pair of thick laced shoes. I stared at them in a sort
+of dreadful fascination, and then something about their gait attracted
+my attention and I recognized them.
+
+"See here," I said sternly. "What do you mean by appearing here like
+this?"
+
+"_I_ can't help it," said the voice, which seemed to come from a point
+about five and a half feet above the shoes. I raised my eyes and
+presently distinguished her round protruding mouth.
+
+"Why can't you? A nice way to act, to walk in sections----"
+
+"If you'll give me time," said the mouth in an exasperated voice, "I
+assure you the rest of me will presently arrive."
+
+"But what's the matter with you? You never acted this way before."
+
+She seemed stung to make a violent effort, for a portion of a fishy eye
+and the end of her nose popped into view with a suddenness that made me
+jump.
+
+"It's all your fault." She glared at me, while part of her hair and her
+plaid skirt began slowly to take form.
+
+"My fault!"
+
+"Of course. How can you keep a lady up working all night and then expect
+her to retain all her faculties the next day? I'm just too tired to
+materialize."
+
+"Then why did you bother?"
+
+"Because I was sent to ask when your wife is going to get rid of that
+Ouija board."
+
+"How should I know! I wish to heaven I'd never seen you!" I cried. "Look
+what you've done! You've lost me my wife, you've lost me my home and
+happiness, you've----you've----"
+
+"Misto Hallock," came from the hall outside, "Misto Hallock, I's gwine
+t' quit. I don't like no hoodoos." And the steps retreated.
+
+"You've----you've lost me my cook----"
+
+"I didn't come here to be abused," said the ghost coldly. "I--I----"
+
+And then the door opened and Lavinia entered. She wore the brown hat and
+coat she usually travels in and carried a suitcase which she set down
+on the floor.
+
+That suitcase had an air of solid finality about it, and its lock leered
+at me brassily.
+
+I leaped from my chair with unaccustomed agility and sprang in front of
+my wife. I must conceal that awful phantom from her, at any risk!
+
+She did not look at me, or--thank heaven!--behind me, but fixed her
+injured gaze upon the waste-basket, as if to wrest dark secrets from it.
+
+"I have come to tell you that I am leaving," she staccatoed.
+
+"Oh, yes, yes!" I agreed, flapping my arms about to attract attention
+from the corner. "That's fine--great!"
+
+"So you want me to go, do you?" she demanded.
+
+"Sure, yes--right away! Change of air will do you good. I'll join you
+presently!" If only she would go till Helen could _de_-part! I'd have
+the devil of a time explaining afterward, of course, but anything would
+be better than to have Lavinia see a ghost. Why, that sensitive little
+woman couldn't bear to have a mouse say boo at her--and what would she
+say to a ghost in her own living-room?
+
+Lavinia cast a cold eye upon me. "You are acting very queerly," she
+sniffed. "You are concealing something from me."
+
+Just then the door opened and Gladolia called, "Mis' Hallock! Mis'
+Hallock! I've come to tell you I'se done lef' dis place."
+
+My wife turned her head a moment. "But why, Gladolia?"
+
+"I ain't stayin' round no place 'long wid dem Ouija board contraptions.
+I'se skeered of hoodoos. I's done gone, I is."
+
+"Is that all you've got to complain about?" Lavinia inquired.
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"All right, then. Go back to the kitchen. You can use the board for
+kindling wood."
+
+"Who? Me touch dat t'ing? No, ma'am, not dis nigger!"
+
+"I'll be the coon to burn it," I shouted. "I'll be glad to burn it."
+
+Gladolia's heavy steps moved off kitchenward.
+
+Then my Lavinia turned waspishly to me again. "John, there's not a bit
+of use trying to deceive me. What is it you are trying to conceal from
+me?"
+
+"Who? Me? Oh, no," I lied elaborately, looking around to see if that
+dratted ghost was concealed enough. She was so big, and I'm rather a
+smallish man. But that was a bad move on my part.
+
+"John," Lavinia demanded like a ward boss, "you are hiding some_body_ in
+here! Who is it?"
+
+I only waved denial and gurgled in my throat. She went on, "It's bad
+enough to have you flirt over the Ouija board with that hussy----"
+
+"Oh, the affair was quite above-board, I assure you, my love!" I cried,
+leaping lithely about to keep her from focusing her gaze behind me.
+
+She thrust me back with sudden muscle. "_I will_ see who's behind you!
+Where is that Helen?"
+
+"Me? I'm Helen," came from the ghost.
+
+Lavinia looked at that apparition, that owl-eyed phantom, in plaid skirt
+and stiff shirtwaist, with hair skewed back and no powder on her nose. I
+threw a protecting husbandly arm about her to catch her when she should
+faint. But she didn't swoon. A broad, satisfied smile spread over her
+face.
+
+"I thought you were Helen of Troy," she murmured.
+
+"I used to be Helen of Troy, New York," said the ghost. "And now I'll be
+moving along, if you'll excuse me. See you later."
+
+With that she telescoped briskly, till we saw only a hand waving
+farewell.
+
+My Lavinia fell forgivingly into my arms. I kissed her once or twice
+fervently, and then I shoved her aside, for I felt a sudden strong
+desire to write. The sheets of paper on my desk spread invitingly before
+me.
+
+"I've got the bulliest plot for a ghost story!" I cried.
+
+
+
+
+THE LADY AND THE GHOST
+
+BY ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
+
+From the _Cosmopolitan Magazine_. By permission of John Brisben Walker
+and Rose O'Neill.
+
+
+
+
+The Lady and the Ghost
+
+BY ROSE CECIL O'NEILL
+
+
+It was some moments before the Lady became rationally convinced that
+there was something occurring in the corner of the room, and then the
+actual nature of the thing was still far from clear.
+
+"To put it as mildly as possible," she murmured, "the thing verges upon
+the uncanny"; and, leaning forward upon her silken knees, she attended
+upon the phenomenon.
+
+At first it had seemed like some faint and unexplained atmospheric
+derangement, occasioned, apparently, neither by an opened window nor by
+a door. Some papers fluttered to the floor, the fringes of the hangings
+softly waved, and, indeed, it would still have been easy to dismiss the
+matter as the effect of a vagrant draft had not the state of things
+suddenly grown unmistakably unusual. All the air of the room, it then
+appeared, rushed even with violence to the point and there underwent
+what impressed her as an aerial convulsion, in the very midst and
+well-spring of which, so great was the confusion, there seemed to appear
+at intervals almost the semblance of a shape.
+
+The silence of the room was disturbed by a book that flew open with
+fluttering leaves, the noise of a vase of violets blown over, from which
+the perfumed water dripped to the floor, and soft touchings all around
+as of a breeze passing through a chamber full of trifles.
+
+The ringlets of the Lady's hair were swept forward toward the corner
+upon which her gaze was fixed, and in which the conditions had now grown
+so tense with imminent occurrence and so rent with some inconceivable
+throe that she involuntarily rose, and, stepping forward against the
+pressure of her petticoats which were blown about her ankles, she
+impatiently thrust her hand into the----
+
+She was immediately aware that another hand had received it, though with
+a far from substantial envelopment, and for another moment what she saw
+before her trembled between something and nothing. Then from the
+precarious situation there slowly emerged into dubious view the shape of
+a young man dressed in evening clothes over which was flung a mantle of
+voluminous folds such as is worn by ghosts of fashion.
+
+"The very deuce was in it!" he complained; "I thought I should never
+materialize."
+
+She flung herself into her chair, confounded; yet, even in the shock of
+the emergency, true to herself, she did not fail to smooth her ruffled
+locks.
+
+Her visitor had been scanning his person in a dissatisfied way, and with
+some vexation he now ejaculated: "Beg your pardon, my dear, but are my
+feet on the floor, or where in thunder are they?"
+
+It was with a tone of reassurance that she confessed that his
+patent-leathers were the trivial matter of two or three inches from the
+rug. Whereupon, with still another effort, he brought himself down until
+his feet rested decently upon the floor. It was only when he walked
+about to examine the bric-a-brac that a suspicious lightness was
+discernible in his tread.
+
+When he had composed himself by the survey, effecting it with an air of
+great insouciance, which, however, failed to conceal the fact that his
+heart was beating somewhat wildly, he approached the Lady.
+
+"Well, here we are again, my love!" he cried, and devoured her hands
+with ghostly kisses. "It seems an eternity that I've been struggling
+back to you through the outer void and what-not. Sometimes, I confess I
+all but despaired. Life is not, I assure you, all beer and skittles for
+the disembodied."
+
+He drew a long breath, and his gaze upon her and the entire chamber
+seemed to envelop all and cherish it.
+
+"Little room, little room! And so you are thus! Do you know," he
+continued, with vivacity, "I have wondered about it in the grave, and I
+could hardly sleep for this place unpenetrated. Heigho! What a lot of
+things we leave undone! I dashed this off at the time, the literary
+passion strong in me, thus:
+
+    "Now, when all is done, and I lie so low,
+      I cannot sleep for this, my only care;
+    For though of that dim place I could not know;
+      That where my heart was fain I did not go,
+        Nor saw you musing there!
+
+"Well, well, these things irk a ghost so. Naturally, as soon as possible
+I made my way back--to be satisfied--to be satisfied that you were still
+mine." He bent a piercing look upon her.
+
+"I observe by the calendar on your writing-table that some years have
+elapsed since my----um----since I expired," he added, with a faint
+blush. It appears that the matter of their dissolution is, in
+conversation, rather kept in the background by well-bred ghosts.
+
+"Heigho! How time does fly! You'll be joining me soon, my dear."
+
+She drew herself splendidly up, and he was aware of her beauty in the
+full of its tenacious excellence--of the delicate insolence of Life
+looking upon Death--of the fact _that she had forgotten him_.
+
+He rose, and confronted this, his trembling hands thrust into his
+pockets, then turned away to hide the dismay of his countenance. He was,
+however, a spook of considerable spirit, and in a jiffy he met the
+occasion. To her blank, indignant gaze he drew a card from his case,
+and, taking a pencil from the secretary, wrote, beneath the name:
+
+    Quiet to the breast
+      Wheresoe'er it be,
+    That gave an hour's rest
+      To the heart of me.
+    Quiet to the breast
+      Till it lieth dead,
+    And the heart be clay
+      Where I visited.
+    Quiet to the breast,
+      Though forgetting quite
+    The guest it sheltered once;
+      To the heart, good night!
+
+Handing her the card he bowed, and, through force of habit, turned to
+the door, forgetting that his ghostly pressure would not turn the knob.
+
+As the door did not open, with a sigh of recollection for his spiritual
+condition, he prepared to disappear, casting one last look at the
+faithless Lady. She was still looking at the card in her hand, and the
+tears ran down her face.
+
+"She has remembered," he reflected; "how courteous!" For a moment it
+seemed he could contain his disappointment, discreetly removing himself
+now at what he felt was the vanishing-point, with the customary
+reticence of the dead, but feeling overcame him. In an instant he had
+her in his arms, and was pouring out his love, his reproaches, the story
+of his longing, his doubts, his discontent, and his desperate journey
+back to earth for a sight of her. "And, ah!" cried he, "picture my agony
+at finding that you had forgotten. And yet I surmised it in the gloom.
+I divined it by my restlessness and my despair. Perhaps some lines that
+occurred to me will suggest the thing to you--you recall my old knack
+for versification?
+
+    "Where the grasses weep
+      O'er his darkling bed,
+    And the glow-worms creep,
+      Lies the weary head
+    Of one laid deep, who cannot sleep:
+      The unremembered dead."
+
+He took a chair beside her, and spoke of their old love for each other,
+of his fealty through all transmutations; incidentally of her beauty, of
+her cruelty, of the light of her face which had illumined his darksome
+way to her--and of a lot of other things--and the Lady bowed her head,
+and wept.
+
+The hours of the night passed thus: the moon waned, and a pallor began
+to tinge the dusky cheek of the east, but the eloquence of the visitor
+still flowed on, and the Lady had his misty hands clasped to her
+reawakened bosom. At last a suspicion of rosiness touched the curtain.
+He abruptly rose.
+
+"I cannot hold out against the morning," he said; "it is time all good
+ghosts were in bed."
+
+But she threw herself on her knees before him, clasping his ethereal
+waist with a despairing embrace.
+
+"Oh, do not leave me," she cried, "or my love will kill me!"
+
+He bent eagerly above her. "Say it again--convince me!"
+
+"I love you," she cried, again and again and again, with such an anguish
+of sincerity as would convince the most skeptical spook that ever
+revisited the glimpses of the moon.
+
+"You will forget again," he said.
+
+"I shall never forget!" she cried. "My life will henceforth be one
+continual remembrance of you, one long act of devotion to your memory,
+one oblation, one unceasing penitence, one agony of waiting!"
+
+He lifted her face, and saw that it was true.
+
+"Well," said he, gracefully wrapping his cloak about him, "well, now I
+shall have a little peace."
+
+He kissed her, with a certain jaunty grace, upon her hair, and prepared
+to dissolve, while he lightly tapped a tattoo upon his leg with the
+dove-colored gloves he carried.
+
+"Good-by, my dear!" he said; "henceforth I shall sleep o' nights; my
+heart is quite at rest."
+
+"But mine is breaking," she wailed, madly trying once more to clasp his
+vanishing form.
+
+He threw her a kiss from his misty finger-tips, and all that remained
+with her, besides her broken heart, was a faint disturbance of the air.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Page 25--Possible typo, but left it as the original. "...and contented
+himself, as a rule, with creeping about the passages in =list=
+slippers,..."
+
+Page 25--arquebuse--printer typo corrected to arquebus.
+
+Page 231--setting--printer typo corrected to sitting.
+
+Page 255--missing word "have" inserted to: "But now I'll none of you,
+for you've played with me."
+
+Page 304--Potential typo. "...walkin' round an' round the graveyard
+=lie= a six days' race fer the belt at Madison Square."
+
+Page 325--inpatient--typo corrected to impatient. Although inpatient is
+a valid word, it is incorrectly used in this instance.
+
+Page 345--is--printer typo corrected to in.
+
+Page 408--Possible typo, but left it as in the original. "...then the
+=affection= spread to her knees and gradually extended upward."
+
+Several instances of variant spelling of reci-pe and recipe. Left as in
+the original.
+
+
+
+
+From
+A Southern Porch
+
+By
+
+Dorothy Scarborough
+
+_A Book of Whimsy_
+
+The author does not preach the lost art of loafing. No! Nothing so
+direct as preaching. She merely loafs,--consistently, restfully,
+delightfully, but with an almost fatal hypnotic persuasiveness. She is a
+sort of stationary Pied Piper, luring the unwary reader to her
+sun-flecked porch, to watch with her the queer procession of created
+things go by,--from lovers and ghosts to lizards and toads.
+
+Under the spell, convinced that loafing is better than doing, the reader
+stays and chuckles over the quiet humor and quaint fancies. He gets away
+finally,--all delightful experiences must end in this work-a-day
+world,--still chuckling, but with a renewed sense of life and life's
+values.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+G. P. Putnam's Sons
+
+New York London
+
+
+
+
+The
+Kiltartan
+Poetry Book
+
+_Prose Translations from the Irish_
+
+By
+
+Lady Gregory
+
+Author of "Irish Folk-History Plays," "Seven Short
+Plays," "Our Irish Theatre," etc.
+
+Certainly no single individual has done more than Lady Gregory to revive
+the Irish Literature, and to bring again to light the brave old legends,
+the old heroic poems. From her childhood, the author has studied this
+ancient language, and has collected most of her material from close
+association with the peasants who have inherited these poems and tales.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+G. P. Putnam's Sons
+
+New York London
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Humorous Ghost Stories, by Dorothy Scarborough
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOROUS GHOST STORIES ***
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