Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1879-01-17

1
heart with sympathy until the
rays of daylight shone into thesea.
ern window. Then the ghost be
came quiet, after the manner o
ghosts whether in fact or fiction
and in the tumultuous silence of tn
early morning, Milly, too, lapse,
softly away into dreamland.
".
A vigorous search is prOsecutet
the next morning, but without result
Every article of furniture is moved
and the carpet taken up; but in vain
No trap door is found, not even
knot-hole through which the winC
might pipe in ghOstly cadences. Tht
mystery remains a mystery, which
all their searching, as yet, fails tt
unravel.
"Ready to 90 home yit?" calls Z
CHEEKY voice, and their driver of the
night before saunters up to the porct
where John and Milly are resting
after their labors. 'Ready to &c
home yit? l am ready to take ye, il
ye be-"
"Ready to homew cries Milly, in
a surprised little voice. "Why, OF
course lot, we came for two weeks,
and two weeks we are going to stay.
Two weeks from yesterday you can
bring your wagon up to the door,
and you'll find us ready, but not be-
fore"
The man looks at her with a sur
prised and thoughtful air.
"Hevn't found the ghost yit, hev
YEP" he says, slowly. "Mebbe We
didn't light on the right room fust
off? I'll show ye, ify like"
"We Sit on the the right room,
thank you," says Milly, laughing,
eve found-No, we didn't find the
ghost; that's Just the trouble. We
mean to find him yet before we leave
though"
''Hear any noises?" says the man,
peering at her curiously.
"Plenty," says John, laconieally,
declining to satisfy curiosity further.
But Milly, less reticent, cries, Can
you, oh! can you tell US the story of
the haunted house? The ghost is all
very nice and interesting; but who
was he before he was ghost, and
what did he do? Did he kill any
body, or was he killed himself? Did
he die of a broken heart, or what?
There must have been something to
make him keep up such a bowling
as he does, but what is it? There
must be some story.
Stories a-plenty, says Hiram, curt
ly, an one as goods another, fur's /
see. There's some says a miser that
lived here once keeps a-moanin' roun
bout the way his heirs squandered
his money. Others thinks there was
a murder done here fifty year ago
a man murdered his wife out o. ieal-
Ously. If that's so, it must "a tux
him consid'able time to come to his
senses, fur the house hain't ben
haunted above ten year. Folks lived
in it quiet an easy enough afore that.
But the people who lived here last,
who were they? asks Milly, eagerly.
The last that lived here, fore the
ghost come, says Hiram, was Wild
der Mickens an her daughter. No
chance fur ghosts there; as plain a
straight-going' couple as ever you
see. The daughter got married, an
went TO live with her folks a ways
back in the country, an the house
was shet mp for a spell. Then some
city folks tux it fur the summer;
but, gosh! they cleared out like all
possessed the very next day, an so
has everybody that's tried it sence.
Eff you're going to stay out your two
weeks, you'll be the fust that's ever
had pluck enough to do it. An now
eff you'll show me what chores you
want done I'll go an do 'em, an then
be gittin' along home, time fur din
ner.
Do you know, Milly, says John,
taking his pipe out of his mouth, as
Hiram goes off, after the "chores"
are finished-do you know that you
talk as if you thoroughly believed in
the ghost? What do you mean BY
it, madam? Are you becoming de-
moralized at your time of life, or
what?
Believe in it? says MilIy, opening
her innocent eyes. Why, how can
l help believing him, poor fellow!
after the way he went on last nightP
l only wish could do something to
help him out of his misery.
Mrs. Gaines, says John, solemnlY,
look me in the face and answer me
one question. Do you or do You not
believe that disembodied spirits are
in the habit of coming back to this
world for the purpose OF grubbing
under floors and making themselves
generally disagreeable? You used
TO be a woman of common sense.
Have you or have you not taken
leave of that character?
Milly paused and meditated a mo-
ment; then she answered very slow
ly: John, l really don't know.
Believe in ghosts? No, I suppose
not. Oh, of course not. It's quite
too absurd. But then, you see,
there's something there, that's GER
tain-something that howls and
walls and bemoans itself. What we
heard last night was no fancy; you
know that as well as / do, John; and
whatever it is, ghost or not, Pm sorry
for it. That's all l can say.
John laughs, and his blue eyes
twinkle through the clouds of smoke
which curl upward from his meer-
schaum and melt slowly away in the
golden sunshine. He knows we'll his
little wife's tender heart as we'll as
he knows her indomitable pluck and
utter incapacity for logic, and this
new development of the three traits
appeals fOrcibly to his sense of hu-
NOR. Milly sees the laugh, and,
knowing its cause, jumps up with
pretty pout, and goes off about her
household business, while John
smokes Oh dreamily, and watches the
flock of pigeons from the neighbor-