The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1879-01-23
How He Won a Ghost.
at was suicide.n
at was murder

1T was murder"
at was a natural death"
The three speakers holding to these
three diverse opinions were sitting
around a dreaTy sort Of "A fire in a grO-
cery store Of a Philadelphia suburb.
The time was over twenty years ago,
and the night beautiful one. mOonlit
but chilly, in November. The men
were old citizens, highly respectable,
veracious, but gozsipy, who had called
to exchange the news.
"Nou will allow, Deacon Brent, that
her body was picked up on Chestnut
street, that it was dressed ia white,
and"
"Of course, Carson, Of course; she left
home in a delirium," interrupted the
Deacon.
"D-d-d-don't 90 too fast, " said Carson,
suffering with wrath at being inter
rupted. 81 amt got through. Her
hands were bloody, an there was a cut
10 her neck. All how's thatc'
"Feil down and hurt herself. That
was proven. You know that was the
corOner's verdict" aus wered the Dea-
con, turning first to Carson and the next
to Grosshelm, who had declared for
murder.
"Me? I don't know nothing about
dat crowner. ! shdicks to IL dat Ellen
Bateman was murdered. Vat dinks ]
knows / dinks. IL bote de same nit
dat girl. She killed herself, sure" aud
Grosshelm held up both hands in oppo-
sition 10 any forcibie argument to the
contrary.
at was suicide, friends; and that is
why she don't lie still iu her grave"
said Mr. Carson, in a solemn hut insist
ing voice. "She's the ghost of Chestnut
street"
"Fudgew cried the Deacon. "There's
no such thing as ghosts"
"Haf you seen'im, DOT woman, eh ~
cried Grosshelm.
'Irs the talk Of the town." said Car
son.
Bot You? exclaimed bis eompan-
ions, at once.
ayes; / saw her last night" replied
Carson. hitching his chair closer 20 the
two, and dropping hts voice almost 10
whisper as John Mercer, stout young
fellow, came shiveriug 10 the great stove.
at went by me slowly, right across the
way from Elliott's. where the body was
found. II just fioated along down the
street, aud when 10 got in front Of me,
% put its hands together, as IL pray ing.
The face was Ellen Bateman's, and
AAaNAN .AH AAfH NNNNNAH AaN WNNllN AhNMN ~ 9
hut it looked just as natural as when she
used 90 laugh and talk with Us / was
a little scared, aud shut my eyes; when
opened them again, in a second, there
was nobody around"
"Id like 20 see that ghost, or any
ghost remarked young Mercer. "Peo-
pie have been talking about this thing
for fortnight 10 may scare old women
aud children, but no man ought to be
afraid"
"Dors So" said Grossheim, approy-
iugly. "Elien, she vas goot girl, and
shleeps ia a pooty grafe, il she vas
killed.
suicide" said Carson.
Natural death" remarked the Dea-
con.
They all left their chairs.
"Stick 20 your textsv suggested
Mercer, with a laugh. "As for me, it's
the ghost l. m after"
For the next two weeks the village
was agitated by talk Of this spirit of
Ellen Bateman. It was seen 10y dozen
persons-if you believed their stories.
One night it would glide down Chestnut
street like form Of light; and another
time il rested on Dr. Bunsen's front
steps; and again IL seemed 10 he enjoy
ing itself in the little park on the river
side, always appearing I'm white gar
ments like those in which she had been
buried. In life the girl had been a
pretty, weil-behaved lass, beloved by "a 10
who knew her. her death being caused
by exposure, she having escaped from
ber house during a delirium, aud wan
, dered around i'm the rain for the greater
part Of the night. II was enough to Kill
a strong person, let alone a poor girl
weakened by a months illness. When
her body was found, after hours Of
search, she was breathing her last. Ont
Of this fact was born the story Of her
ghost.
John Mercer was in earnest when he
! said he woult like 10 meet that ghost
2 He did not believe in the supernatural
. He had known Miss Bateman, and is her
white shadow was floating up and down
, the street, be would like to encounter it,
q Therefore he made 10 a matter Of curios-
/ ity to search for the apparition; to be out
at all times Of the night, and to visit all
points where il was likely to present it.
, self His efforts were useless. Other
people might see the specter, but his
search had been in vain, and he fiuallv
r came TO consider the story fabrication
by people who were influenced by their
fears Of the supernatural.
In the end, however, his efforts re-
: suited in the capture Of a ghost. He
aud his friend, Jerry Denuisou, having
passed the evening with an acquaint-
ance, were returning home. There was
a thick mist aud the night was dark, the
street lamps looking like candles. A
portion Of their journey WIS along thai
, portion Of the street which had come TO
be known as the Ghosts Walk They
were laughing and conversing about the
phantom, ridiculiug the idea Of such a
thing as specter, when ahead of and
approaching them was seen a figure all
IN white. Mercer put his hand on his
companion's arm.
Vow we have il, Jerry,n he whis-
} pered. There is the spirit; what will
you do 90
stick by you, Jack" =" answered Jerry.
Inc figure drew nearer. There was
nothing but white garments visible.
Inc mist made its size almost gigantic,
and It's motions imperceptible. As it
continued to advance, the young men
leit their hair rise and their knees
weaken. They would have run had
there not been two Of them, one to tell
the story of cOwardice.
afraid ?'i asked Jerry, gently.
"a little" says John. "But we must
not back down. There's the mystery.
Now is your chance"
"Oh, don't be alarmed about me, old
fellow says Jerry.
"Nery g0odl Now remember what
I'm going TO say. Do you pass TO the
right while pass to the left When u
is fairly between Us, both will grab at
il. II there's anything solid about the
affair, we'll have il. II there's not,
why-well, 1 suppose we can't any more
than die for our courage"