Wyandot County Republican. [volume] (Upper Sandusky, Ohio) 1869-1903, 1869-09-23
ALMOST A GHOST STORY.
A REAL INCIDENT.
BY GRACE GREENWOOD.

On Christmas night, some fifty
or sixty years ago there was gath
cred about the wide fireplace Of
large New England kitchen happy
family circle, consisting of a we'll
to-do farmer, who was exc magis-
trate-known far and wide as
esquire Percival"- comely wife,
two fair daughters, a niece, and
last, but not least, son, just home
from Yale for the holidays.
The night without was seasona
bly, cold, and brilliant with moon
light and starlight. The large stone
farm house stood on the brow. of a
hill, behind protecting line of tall
pine trees--the only green in the
wide landscape. The steep hillside
and wide valley beneath were heavi-
ly blanketed with snow.
The early part of the evening had
passed merrily with games, jests,
aud song But for an hour or two
the conversation had taken a. drift
into the realm of the supernatural.
One ghost story had succeeded to
another, till, as the "witching time
of night approached, and the fire
burned low, the circle instinctively
drew closer together, with thrills
and shudders of strange spiritual
dread, which is yet akin to the
keenest pleasure-an awesome joy
an exquisite terror. The solemn
|sighing Of the winds among the
pines, heard in the pauses ofghostly
recitals, added its wondrous, wierd
effect to the theme.
Just as young John Percival had
concluded wild German legend,
which he declared "splended stuff
for dreams," the outside door was
heard to open suddenly. All look
ed round, more or less fearfully, to
see standing on the threshold the
slight form of fair young woman,
clad all in white, and looking
strangely pure, and cold, and lumi-
nous, like incarnated moonlight.
"With the glide of spirit she
came forward. Her feet were quite
bare, and her arms were dropping
wearily Masses of fair hair fell
over her shoulders, but her eyes
were dark and fixed with melan-
choly stare. Her lips were slightly
parted and almost colorless. She
came into the circle about the
hearth, and there paused, standing
utterly motionless-a beautiful, ap-
palling figure.
For a moment, all the startled
group remained as silent as that
strange visitor-then one young
girl caught her breath in hysteri.
cal scream, which was instantly
answered by cry from the pale
lips of the "woman in white," into
whose blank eyes rushed a wild,
keen light. She gazed about Der
in terror and bewilderment, then
glanced down upon herself, and
sunk covering upon the floor, Gov
ering her face with her hands, and
giving way to childish paroxysm
of weeping.
The farmers wife, a woman of
rare sense and presence of mind, at
once OWNED the truth.
"She is sleep walker!'' she
said. "She must be half dead with
the cold! Girls, bring some wrap
pings!"
Immediately all was hustle. The
farmer and his son discreetly van
ished from the scene, and the kind
mother, daughters, and niece de-
voted themselves to their bewilder-
ed charge, who still wept and
sobbed under their kind ministra-
tions, but declared that she felt no
cold and no pain, though her deli
cate feet were actually bleeding
from her long walk up the icy hill
side and over the crusted snow.
After having been tenderly put to
bed, however, she became sufficient
ly composed to reply to the few
questions put to her. She said she
was Lucy Ellet, the niece of the
village physician-that she had
lately been taken from school, on
account of nervousness, and sent to
him tor medical treatment, but that
homesickness and loneliness had
made her worse. She had occa-
sionally walked in her sleep before,
| but only about the house and
grounds at home,- and on summer
moonlight nights. II think the
moon bewitches me-" she said, smil-
ing through her tears. That night
she had, before going to bed,
looked across the little valley to the
pleasant house on the hill, watched
the cheerful Christmas lights gleam-
ing through the pine trees, and
longed to be one of the happy
party there, though she was stran-
ger to all.
She had cried herself to sleep,
she said, and that was all she knew
of her mysterious midnight tramp
over snow and stones and ice. Not
a memory, not thought could she
recall till the moment when she
found herself standing on that
hearth, in her night-dress, with so
many wondering eyes fixed upon
her.
80 dear! what did you think of
me? What can you think of me
now ?" she moaned.
"Never mind what we think of
/