Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1869-07-23
SELECTED STORY
LAYING THE GHOST.
"A STRANGE, TRUE STORY.

will you try t?' said pretty Laura VIII
Der to me. Dare you sleep in the blue
room to- night.
Dare! There are few things I would not
dare for you I dare do anything that you
ask" a'i
But I don't ask it. I only want to know
what you think about this story Of the ghost,
forI confess it frightens me to death.
will you promise torun with your harris
horn-bottle to my rescue if you hear me
scream 2
NO, indeed, I'll promise no such thing.
I'm sure my knees would give way under
me, and l should need all my hartshorn
myself 4..
We'll, then, l suppose the ghost must
get me, for shall sleep in the blue room to-
night, and if am carried off bodily or die
of fright, I'll leave my fortune to you
All right cried Richard WILDER from
his sofa corner. Get that down in black
and white, Cousin Laura, I'll draw your
will, Fred; let's see the thing through
And laughingly he went off to get his
writing desk.
Now for it, said he Make your will,
old fellow I'll draw it up in good form
So | dictated and he wrote
The will was made, signed, and witness
ed, and Laura WILDER was named the heir
ess to my fortune in case Of my death en-
suing that night.
I don't half like it, said she, as Dick left
the room to put away the document. Its
all well enough for a joke, but suppose
something should happen to you accidental
ly, or suppose you should really see the
ghost F?
| And her blue eyes half filed with tears,
and her sweet face expressed such horror,
that burst into one of my intolerable fits Of
laughter that always overtake me at the
wrong moment.
Don't laugh begged Laura: please
don't Indeed | see no fun in such subjects
Death and ghosts are not to be laughed at
and besides, am afraid of Dick ne is a
wild kind of man he has lived in South
America all his life, nobody knows where,
till he is but half civilized. Did you see
how his eyes CLEANED, and you hear him
laugh, when you signed your name?' it
frightens me to joke about such things
Please don't laugh
We'll, if I were to stop laughing every
time you were frightened, I should soon be
melancholy enough; but I won't talk about
such things if you don't like the subject.
Burn that silly will, tben,' persisted she.
why should you leave your fortune to
me 2
| And a twinkle in her eyes told me she
well knew why, but that, being woman,
she must coquette.
Why shouldn't I, Miss Laura? I beg
leave to assure do not intend to die of
fright, but live to enjoy my own money
| 'Oh !! was the only answer she made to
this somewhat rude reply, but her downcast
eyes said rather more. Laura began,
impetuously, "who should have my fortune
if not you ? Do you know that you possess
my heart and soul-then why should not my
money follow ?
sOh for PHYS sake stop. Now you're
worse than when you talked of death and
ghosts. It's Of no consequence, thankie. -
Good-evening.' rse#
And off she ran laughing, leaving me
alone.
who on earth can account for woman's
whim 2 I soliloquised. Here is q girl as
gentle as sunlight, as timid as bird, full of
love to all mankind, yet even she must try
to firt, even she will laugh at fellew the
minute he tries little sentiment. Quoting
Dickens, too. Never mind Miss Laura !;
we've laughed together many time, and we
will do it again, in spite ofghosts, and Dicks,
and Dickens. don't like that Dick any
better than she does, though. He is an
impertinent fellow, and under all his as
sumed bonhomme, there is concealed malice.
I heard he wanted to marry Laura. Well,
let him try. Who's afraid ? Not I !!
With these thoughts occupying my mind,
I went slowly up the old-fashioned stairway,
which was one the chief beauties to me Of
this old fashioned house of the Wilbers, in
which had been guest for three weeks.
Robert WILDER and had been college
chums, but this was my first visit to his home,
and | had fallen in love with his pretty sis
ter before had been twenty minutes within
its walls.
had made up my mind to write formal
offer of my hand that very night, and as I
thought it likely that this all important epis-
tie would occupy me till the small hours, it
mattered little to me which room sat in.
So, making my way to the room, I
gathered together my writing materials, and
marched off to the haunted room.
It seems that it had acquired its name
about seventy years before the period Of
which I write, and Immediately after the
death of old Richard WILDER, who, having
lived a life of adventure, came home finally