The Sumter banner. [volume] (Sumterville, S.C.) 1846-1855, 1853-08-16
EyE EEtEEES Z IS GEL I A N E0US
4. From Glenson's Pictorial
IHE GRBEN CHAMBER;
OR,
s6.i The midnight Visitor.
by FRANCIS a. DuR1vAGE.

tfSSft AZ BY TFRhNC1S a. DuR1NAGE.
@ In my younger days, ghost sto.
8ries 'swere the most popular nara.
6tives cxtant, and tho lady or gen
stleman who could recitc the most
thrilling adventure, involving a gen
*uine spiritual visitant, was sure to
be the lion or lioness Of the evening
party he enlivened CD with the dis
NAL details. The elder auditors ncy-
er seemed particularly hcrriied or
terror-stricken, however much graf
ified they we're, but the young mem
bers would drink in every word, 'snp-
ping full of horrors. After listening
to one Of these authentic narratives.
i've used to be very reluctant to re.
tire to our, dormitories, and never
xeneured to get into bed till we had
examined suspicious looking closets,
old Wardrobes, and, indeed every
nookiand corner that might be sup
8posed to harbor a ghost or a ghoul.
fortunately for the rising genera
sition, these tales have gone out Of
fashion, and though some attempts to
revive that taste have been made. as
in the Might Of Nature such ef
forts have proved dcplorablc failure.
The young people Of to day make
light Of ghosts. The spectres in the
sincantation scene ofsDer FreyschutS,
are received with roar5 of laughter,
and even the statue in Don Giovan.
nj. seems jolly Notwithstanding the
Elusive music Of Mozart. We we're
about to remark that the age had
outgrown superstition, but We re-
membered the Rochester knockings,
! and concluded to be modcstly silent.
One evening, many years since, it
was q clustering Deccmbe. evening,
the wind howling as it dashed the
sold buttonwsod limbs in its fury a.
Fgainst the parlor windows of the
country house where a few of us
where assembled to pass the winter
holidays, we gathered before roar
ing fire Of walnut and oak, which
made everything within doors as
cheery and comfortable, as all with.
out was desolate and drcary. The
window shutters were left unfastcncd,
that the bright lauplight and ruddy
igellght might stream afar upon the
,YYlasgg Waste. and perhaps guide
some benightcd wayfarcr to hospi.
afabIBSs shelter.
We shall not attempt to describe
the group, as any such portrait paint
ing would not be gcrmane to the mat.
ter more imme ediately in hand. Suf.
flee it to say, that one Of the youngs.
Sters begged Aunt Deborah, the mat.
& ron Of the mansion, to tell US ghost
story q real ghost story, Aunt De.
5borah 'rr-for in those days we were
terribly&afraid Of countcrfeits, and
4 hatedstos hear a narrative where the
ghostssurned out in the end to be
nofghostSafter all, but mere com.
4 pound OF flesh and blood like our.
selves. iSt
s$f Aunt Deborah smiled at cur earn.
& es,ness, and tantalized our impaticncc
by some Of those little arts, with
which the practised story-tellcr cn.
shances the value and interest of her
narrative. She tapped her silver snuff:
box, opened it deliberately, took a
very delicate pinch of tile Lundy
81 Foot, shut the box, replaced it in her
pocket, folded her hand before her,
looked round a minute on the cx
Ipooetant group and then began.
l2sllall despair Of imparting to
Bthis. scold,pen and ink record Of her
story the inimitablc conversation
al graceiWltl which she cmbclishcd
3lt. ! made 8ani indelible impression
on n memory, and ifI have ncye,