The true northerner., 1878-05-24

last and saw Miss Carney standing In
the middle of the floor with her long
black hair in curls about her shoulders,
and blue ribbon around her taper girls
waist.
Now he looked at her, and she was
really old and stout, but somehow she
seemed to be nobody else but Priscy
Carney.
She saw him looking from the furni-
ture to her face, and interpreted his
thought.
"Yes," she said, almost angrily, "is
il not strange? There are the bits OF
wood, and glass, and china, Just as they
used to be. There are the oak trees,
only finer and greener. The very grass
and flowers might be the same; and here
am /, old, faded and lonely, and my
handsome, bright-eyed father dead in
his grave, and all care for gone. !
wish were gone also. think people
who have not seen each other for forty
years neel not seek each other again.
wish they would not come to me after
being all the same as dead for forty
years. 1t is precisely like seeing
ghosts"
She looked as though she wanted to
"Poor old ghost" said he, "whom
no one wants to see-not even those
who promised to remember him for
ever"
Forty years is much worse than for
ever" said she, "and Sc is terribly un-
romantic age"
"Yes, it is, said he; "but it is a good
age enough for ghosts. By the
way, do you like ghost stories? Let me
tell you one.
Once there was ghost-now ]
think of it, he wasn't always ghost; he
was boy once-the son of a miller down
by the water-side. He worked in the
mill, and was fioury and white as ghost
should be most of the time; but he was
happy and gay, and many things hap
pened as he liked. One of them was
when certain rich farmer in the neigh
borhood came to the mill. The grain
his servants brought in the great wagons,
but he, the farmer, used to drive to the
mill with his little daughter in the gig
beside him. She was pretty child, with
long curls. and her eyes were big and
brown.
She made a pretty picture in her
white dresses and bright ribbons, and she
came when she was 80 young that she
used to hold her hands out to this boy
and cry, Come here, little boy. Show
me where the flour siffs FROM
"For that was what she liked to see
the best, the flour sitting through the
fine muslin. Every week she used to
come until the miller sent his boy away
to school. When he came home again
she was girl of 16, prettier than ever,
and she remembered asking him to let
her see the -four sift, and she talked to
him while her father was attending to
his business and the days when she
did not come the boy cared nothing for,
and the days that brought her were
marked and picked out as blessed days.
:" After while he got over the shy
ness that kept him from going to see
her, and went, and she was not dis
pleased. She was the mistress of the
house, for her mother died young. She
used to make tea for him on Sunday
afternoon, and after tea her father would
put his handkerchief over his head and
fall into a nap. Then they used to
whisper together. Long after the poor
boy came to be ghost he remembered
those evenings, when he was bright
checked young fellow, the son of O rich
miller, and had the hope of marrying
the girl he loved before his eyes.
He thought the girl loved him as
well as he loved her, and he had no
fears of the future, no thought that
trouble could come to him in any way
until misfortune overlook his father.
The good old man failed. The mill was
sold. There was nothing but anxiety at
home. At last worse came-his father
died soon after his mother. He was
very sad (; he was poor, also; but he
had hope, for he was beloved by the one
he loved.
"One day he went to her for comfort
He remembered the day ever after.
The low built, old fashioned house, the
great oaks, flower garden, the girl in
her white dress and blue ribbons who
came to greet him. He was full of life
still, but that night, when he turned
away from the house, he was ghost
the miserable ghost of his old self. for |
he no longer had any faith in love.
Standing before him, pale and sad,
and with tears in her eyes. it is true, he
uau ucdtu ueT WHO uau MADE the world
bright for him say: 1t is my fathers
will that we should part. 1 cannot dis
obey my old parent.
"Then she had told him that she
loved him as well as ever; but he did not
believe her.
He thought his poverty had turned
her heart from him, that she had never
felt tenderly toward him, and he left her
in anger, believing all that had been
said and written about the falsehood of
women. Yes, he was turned into a
ghost"
"He might have known she was az
unhappy as he was" said Miss Carney.
from behind her handkerchief; "bnt
what can girl do when her father
threatens to curse her, and she the only
child he has Only nothing could make
her marry any one else-nothing. That
she could do at least"
But the poor ghost did not know
hat, said the old man. "It wandered
lway broken-hearted. 1t found its way
o the sea first, and then into the battle.
For years it was a wretched ghost
greatly to be pitied, and only wishing to