Seattle daily post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, W.T. [Wash.]) 1881-1888, 1882-10-07

When the house is alone by itself. in
experienced persons may believe that
1t behaves exactly as il does when there
are people IN 1t; but that is q deiusion,
rs you VIII discover, if you are eve. Ies.
alone IN ii ~ midnight. sitting up for
the rest of tho family; al this hour its
true disposition viii reveal itself.
10 catch it at its best, pretend to re-
tire, pat out the gas or the lamp, and 20
up stairs. Afterwards, come down soft
y, light no more than one lamp, go into
the empty parlor, and seat yourself at a
table, with something to read.
No sooner than you have done 30 than
viii hear little chip-chip-chip along
the top OF the roOm-a small sound, but
persistent. 1t is evidently the wall-pa-
per coming of; and you decide. after
some tribuiation, that il it does come
on, You can't help it, and go on with
your book.
As you sit with your book in your
hand, you begin to be quite sure that
someone Lis coming down stairs. Squeak
-squeak-sqeak. What folly! There
Ii nobody up there to come down; but
tLere-no, it is on the kitchen stairs.
Somebody is coming up.
Squeak-suap. Well. if it is a robber
you might as well face him. You get
the poker, anu stand with your back
against the wall. Nobody comes up.
Finally, you decide that You are a
goose. put the poker down, get maya
ZINE. and try to read.
There, that's the door. You heard the
lock turn! They are coming home.
You run TO the door, unlock and unbolt
it, and peep out. Nobody there.
But. as you linger, the door lock gives
q click that makes you jump.
BY daylight neither lock nor stairs
make any of these noises unless they
are touched or trodden on.
You go back to the parlor in hurry,
with a feeling that the next thing you
know something may catch you by the
hair: and YOU try to remember where
you left of.
Now, it is the table that snaps and
cracks, as if all the spiritual,silc knocks
were hidden III its mahogany. You do
not lean ON it heavily, without this re-
suit; but ii fid2ets you. and you take an
easy char and put the book on your
knee.
Your eyes wander up and down the
page, and you grow dreamy; when, ap-
parently, the book case fires off a pis-
toll.
At least a loud fierce crack comes
from the heart of that piece of furni-
ture-so loud, so fierce, that you jump
to your feet, trembling.
You cannot stand the parlOr any more.
You go upstairs.
No sooner do y0u get there than it
seems to you that somebody il walking
on the roof. If the house is a detached
one, and the sthing is impossible. that
makes it all tie more mysterious.
Nothing ever mOaned in the chimney
before, but something means now. There
il ghostly step in the bathroom, You
find out afterwards that it is the tap
dripping, but You do not dare to look at
that time.
And it is evident that there is some
thing up the chimney--yOu would not
like to ask what.
If You have gas. it hobs up and down
in a phantom dance. If you have II
lamp, it goes ont in blue explosion. If
you have candle, shroud plainly en-
wraps the wick and falls towards you.
The blinds shake, as if hand
clutched them: aud, finally, a doleful
Cat begins to moan in the cellar.
You do not keep cat and this finish.
es you.
You pretend to read no longer; and.
sitting with towel over your head and
face, and hearing something below go
''shew. shew, shew," like a little saw.
you believe in the old ghost stories.
Ten minutes afterwards the bell rings:
the belated one comes home; the lights
are lit; perhaps something must be got
out to eat. People talk and tell where
they have been, and ask you if you are
lonesome.
And not a stair creaks. No step is
heard on the roof; no click at tho front
door. Neither bookcase nor table
cracks. The house has on its company
manners-only you have found ont how
it behaves when it is alone.