The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1884-01-05
A New Years Ghost.

The wind races wildly through the town
making weird, moaning sound in desolat
places near the coast, where great darl
rocks cast their uncanny shadows, an
around the village gables. The few star
which glimmer between the heavy cloud
look pale and shivering, but the village win
dows are red with light, and it is eyiden
that an event of no small Importance is a
hand. Lanterns CLEAN along the mair
street, footsteps echo on the ground, fol-
there is only the lightest sprinkling Of snow
over the rough bubbles. But lanterns ant
footsteps all wind toward the village stor
Just now, where every evening the saio
and farmer, and even the squire, the arts
tocracy as well as the humber portion O.
the town, congregate 10 discuss the wealth
er, the crops, the news, and to relate thrill
ing stories Of adventures at sea.
Tonight conversation is unusually brisI
and interesting. The parson himself il
there, and condescends to joke little will
the coy group at the back of The glowiny
stove, while waiting for his purchases to b.
weighed and tied up in separate brown pa
per parcels, and, in spite of himself, waits :
moment to hear the denouement of thrill
ing ghost story, told with the assurance thai
it is solemn fact, by a brown old sailor
who shakes his gold ear rings, as he pro
ceeds in his recital, with great deal of ner
V0us energy.
Now this is ez true ez l set in this cheer
gentlemen" he announces gravey at the
end of nearly every sentence.
And though he is not sitting at all, but
leaning his stalwart length over flour bar,
rel, no one seems to doubt The squire
looks as gravely interested as the bows
The parson smiles, but it is noticeable that
the smile affects only one side of his mouth,
and is as lacking in amusement as is the
open mouth of the man who is waiting for
the forceps of the dentist in the advertise
ment of the toothache medicine which adorns
the smoky wall. The teller seems to be as
awe-stricken himself as his hearers, The
effect of the tale is heightened by the dead
silence of the place, the dimness of the
lamplight, the weird shadows in the cor
ners, and meendering wreaths of smoke
which curl up toward the dingy rafters
overhead, and encircle the head of the old
story-teller, giving him the look of an en-.
chanter or a genii of old working over the
fire.
Outside there is the troubled voice of the
sea, the wailing of the wind. The story
ended, a long-drawn breath goes around the
circle. The parson gives utterance to a ner-
vous little laugh, then, suddenly becoming
sif I;;sc to his dignity and his duty, speaks
against the folly Of superstition, with which
he declares the whole town to be alive.
"Wall, 'ta'n't no wonder, parson, when
ghosts is seen walkin' these here streets on
dark nights" spoke up another old fisher
man. 81 see John Norton's ghost last
night as plain as l see you this blessed min
ute. l went daown to my boat haouse there
10 the landin' about eight o'clock, an
comm back, jest ez / waz against them
tew tall pine trees afore you git to my
haouse, there he was standir' m lookin'
me in the face. The moon shone right onto
his features, m lor'. here WANT no more
mistaken 'em than mistakin' my brothers..
didn't say nothin', was so kinder took
back, not believin' in ghosts afore, m he
turned into the woods road that leads to the
old Norton place. He moved spy ernuff,
but it wat like waikiki, He kinder giided
off like shadder, n his coat looked sortelS
thin m white"
"Wall, naow, If / ha'n't dashed,'' ex-
claimed a jolly-looking farmer, rubbing his
stubby chin excitedly. "My wife m her
sister declared to Moses that they'd seed the
same Teller last night walkin' past the house
bout twilight, but sence that spiritualist
woman has been here in the village, they've
been SEEM m hearin' all sorts o. things,
N j didn't make no account of their ghosts
no more'n nothin' at ALL
"Who was John Norton?' inquired the
parson, who was a newcomer.
ga sea cap'in, who got wrecked some
eight years ago, and as promising a young
man as we ever raised in the town." said
the squire slowly. SIT was his first voyage
as captain, and those who were saved say
that he stood by the ship until the very last
moment, he was found frozen to death on
the wreck after the storm was over by
vessel which was bound for Boston. John
=, 81, e kI,s
and he brought the body into port with him,
and it was sent on here and buried"
"Then there is no doubt but what the
man is really dead, said the parson. "Sail-
ors have sometimes the faculty of coming to
life again, you know; that is" he added
with due seriousness, "there are false re-
ports of their death. How many sailors
have come back to yarmouth safe and
sound, who have been reported drowned?'
'Neyer but one sence Pve been old
enough to remember" said an old man, who
had hitherto been silent. "That wuz Luke
Higgins, IN he'd "a done hisself m the
LaoWn both a favor if he he'd aided. It's
them kind O chaps what dew turn up, not
starlin' good fellers like John. John, he
was dretful loss"
sob, there's no possibility Of Johns be-
ing alive" said the squire, nervously. st
saw him buried myself, poor fellow. He
was engaged to my daughter Elsie, and she,
poor girl, has done nothing but mourn for
him all these years. l objected to the
match at first, but before he went away on
his last voyage became fully alive to his
good qualities. He was brave, manly fell
low"
Enter Mrs. Blagg, the wife of a fisherman,
quite out of breath, and looking very wild.
"What is it, Mary Jane? You look as if
you'd seed ghost, too," said her husband,
who was one of the circle by the fire.
$50 have, Lemuel, true ez you are alive.
] come right face to face with John Norton
comm through the field from our house to
the main road. / see him just as plain as ]
you folks naow, but / didn't wait to see
him long, kin tell We, but just scud by him
like lightin', m run intew the squire's, m
told Miss Elsie all about it. l was dretfn
scarf, but | thought she'd orter know about
it. so 1 KEEP up till got there, m then
went off inteW a kinder faint. Bein' sorter
weak after a fit er phthisic couldn't stan
it."
''Haow did he look?" inquired one man
under his breath.
'Dretful material, only kinder white m
peaked, m he kinder halted m looked
straight at me kinder wild m s'prised
They say ghosts don't never like to be over
took, m don't s'pose he expected to NEE
nobody III that lonesome field"
''But how could you see his face so dis
tlnctly on SO dark nightp' said the squire
seeming considerably disturbed.
"Good erasmus. you don't s'pose 1 wen
through that there field without no Ian
tern? Still, after giving him one good look
was so fustered that l dropped the Ian
tern on the spot, m run screeching alon:
as fast as l could. You'll hev to git tina
there lantern, Lemuel, fur It wouldn't dew
TO lose it nohaow; we can't afford tew git {
moo one"
'Well, good people" said the squire, "w
mustn't let ghosts interfere with our New
Years festivities. 1t is time that all in
vited guests should be at my house; an,
here l am, the host, away from home.
And the squire hurried out OF the store
and along the dusky wood until he came t
a brilliantly Lighted old mansion on the hill
1t had long been his custom to give
house warming, as he called it, on New
Years Eve. Nearly all the town were bid
Ten to these festivities, and they were en-
ioyed hugely by young and old, rich az
Door, Some of the old families thought tn
SQUIRE somewhat Democratic in his way {
giving entertainments, and rather turne
IN their noses at the small sailors and fish
efman's families; but neither the sailors nc
the fishermen took it to heart, and ever.
thing went merry as marriage bell, as
general thing.
The squire entered the house, greeted