The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1882-06-09
THE THREE KNIVES.


$50 you want me to tell you story about
a ghost, do you, children % said Parson
GoOdharts, looking up from his book, with
a queer little twinkle in the corner of his
dark gray eyes, as his three nephews and
two ueices came troOping around the snug
armchair in which he was sitting by the fire.
''Well that won't be very easy, because I
never saw a ghost myself, and I've never
met anyone else who has, either. But
once knew a man who thought he had seen
one--or felt one rather-and a very serious
matter it was for him, as you shall hear.
"When first came here as a young curate
long before any Of you young folks were
born, every man. woman and child in the
village believed as firmly in ghosts, witches
and all that nonsense, as they believed that
the sun shone or that the wind blew.
1--WE seen a strapping fellow six feet high,
big and strong enough to knock horse
down, go half a mile out of his way rather
than pass after dark spot where highway
man had been hanged in chains and more
than one old woman was scared into fits by
a COW suddenly getting up from behind
hedge, as she was going home through the
fields in the twilight
"As for the church-yard, all the money in
the Cottonborough Bank wouldn't have
tempted any Of our village folks to go thro'
it after nightfaH. And certainly it was a
dismal place-there's no denving it.
"Our pretty little new church over the
way wasn't built then, and the old church
stood right out at the very end of the village
just where Farmer Thomson's big barn is
now.
''It was a grim old building, all of dark
gray stone turned almost black by the
weather, and fast crumbling away. The
tower was one mass of dark ivy, and the
church yard itself was full of gloomy frs
and expresses, growing together in thick
clumps which harbOred owls and bats with
out number; and when the moon glimmered
through the clouds upon a stormy night
making the white tombstones whittier and the
black trees blacker than ever, it certainly
did look as ghostlY place as ever 1 saw in
my life.
"But as If all this was not enough, the
spot had legend attached to it, and a very
grim one too. Just at the further end of the
church-yard, the ground fell steeply away to
dark hollow, through which ran a stream
''This hollow bore the pleasant name of
Dead Mans GuIley,' and the traditions of
the country recorded that a great battle had
been fought in this place in the days of King
Alfred, and that a number of wounded
Danes, who had crawled to the stream to
drink, had been cruelty slaughtered by the
Saxons, despite the entreaties of a good
monk, who tried hard TO save them.
Ever since that day-sO ran the legend
a.
who passed the spot after nightfall would
hear the shouts of the slayers, and shrieks of
the slain, mingled with the hoarse rush of
the water, and would see-if the moon were
bright enough to show it to him-the stream
running as led as blood.
$50, what with this nice story (Which ev-
cry soul in the district knew by hearty, and
what with the 6loominess of the place itself
the village people were as shy of it as if it
had been a fever hospital.
"Of course, was very much put out at
seeing my paTishioners making such geese
of themselves but what was to be done?
Talking to them would only have made
them worse, for they would have told me
that they, who had lived in the country all
their lives, must know more about it than l.
who had only Just come there.
"At first 1 tried to shame them out of
their terrors by constantly going about
haunted spots myself, by night as well as by
day.
But it was not bit of use, for they were
accustomed to consider it part of the cler-
gyman's business TO deal with ghosts, and
held out that ought to be match for any
amount of them, if did my work properly.
80 the only thing L could do was to leave
their beliefs alone, and trust to time to wear
them out
'It was toward the end of my first year in
the village, and the nights were getting long
and dark, when, one evening, as / was com
ing home in the twilight from visiting an old
labOTeT, VINO had fallen Ill, man came f1v-
ing down the lane, full speed, and ran bump
against NE so violently that he almost
Knocked me down.
Gently, my friend, said 1, I'm not
made of iron.
BE that thee, parson p answered shaky
voice, which L recognized at once as that of
Dick Grimes, the miller. Stand by me if
thee be a Christian mon
whats the matter?' asked 1, wonder !
ing not little what could have happened to |
frighten great sturdy fellow like him-for /
frightened he evidently was--so badly that /
be could hardly speak.
"'There be a boggart (ghost) after me,
painted Grimes, 'rattlin chain and shroik-
~. Try if thee can stop him, for the love
# heaven. l cannot
"Sure enough, at that very moment l
heard sound of pattefing feet approaching,
mingled with .he clanking of a chain and
through the darkness 1 could just make out
omething white coming swiftly toward us.
Irimes, who seemed TOO much scared even
o uu away. got behind me as il 1 had been