The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-04-19
TIM SULLIVAN'S GHOST.
4 Tale III Which the Supernatural
is Second to the Natural.
~Whose ghost is that's


ssWhose ghost is thatf'
This was said by Peter Donnelly, who
was sitting up in his bed, having been
just awakened by the noise of clanking
chains in his bedroom. The window
curtain was up, and the light from a
quarter moon shed soft but clear light
upon all the objects in the room. The
ghost was walking up and down the
apartment, wrapped in clean, white,
sheety looking costume and dragging a
long chain, which was fastened to its
waist, and which made a weird noise at
every movement of the ghost.
The ghost stopped on hearing Donnel-
ly's question, and, turning its head to-
ward the bed, gazed with mournful eyes
upon Peter, and, after one long look, it
took up its walk again. The face which
Donnelly saw was enough to satisfy him
that the ghost was no other than that of
his old friend Tim Sullivan. So, reas-
sured, Peter sang cat, SIS that you,
Tinlf"
The ghost, without stopping in its
walk or turning its head, nodded assent:
Whats upr said Peter.
And then the ghost broke its silence
and answered, "Tm up, and that's what's
the matter"
Didn't they wake you properly, Tim?
+ was there, and thought we did it in
style. There were o fine lot of broken
heads at the wake, and my own was one
of them"
"Yis. yis," said the ghost, @sthe wake
was all right, and thank the boys for
the way they behaved; though I'll say it
now, that didn't like the way of that
Dan Flaherty making love to my wildly,
right before my eyes, as it were. If I
had been able, ] would hive raised me in
me coffin and welted the head of him
never moind, I've me eye on him. IT'S
true, It's dead eye, but he'll hear from
me yet.
"Then what worries you, Tim, that
you're strolling about when it's time for
all honest dead men to be quiet9 Are
You not out of purgatory yet, after al.
the money your sorrowing wildly hns
paid Father Malone for candles and
masses
''Yis, yis; that's all right. I got me
pass two weeks ago.
Then, in the name of the divil, what
do you want, Tim Sullivan, trapesing
around in those nightclothes? And if
it's anything can do for the repose Of
your soul just say the word. Tim, and
for ould friendships sake I'll do it as
sure as me names Pete Donnelly.s
%71f Da4n~ Tov,,a1l~~. 1<,.sA x.e<.
the name Of the divil so familiar like
you don't know him. He is much big
ger man than ! thought him till | saw
him down below, Do you know, Peter,
that he's a bigger man than the mayor
or even the chief of polaceY
And have you seen the divil, Tim?"
cav course I haven
'sAnd what did he say to you?"
'sWell, you see, it was after had me
pass, when was on me way here, when
he was coming along with whole
crowd of his folks, and they stopped me,
and widout word they took me by the
arm and escorted me right to the divil
himself, and the divil he says to me,
very politely hike, What is your name,
sirT And I answered him at onct, Tim
Sullivan, your honor Then says he,
Where are You golngy Then says 1, 4
was thinking of going back to me old
home for bit, Then says he, Have
you your pass wild your I says, 'Yis,
your honor and up and shows it to
him. He took one squint at it, but he
would not touch it, and seen him shake
bit when his eye caught the sign of
the cross, and then he says to me, All
right, Mr.. Sullivan, and taking his hat
off he made me most polite bow, jest
as if was the finest gintleman in the
land, and Twas left alone in the twink
ling of an eye. Oh, the divil is born
gintleman, Peter, and any man who
says anything agin him is no friend of
mine, and ! tell you that for your own
good, Peter Donnelly."
well, well, Tim Sullivan, have it
your own way. Divil word will say
against the diyil, seeing as he is friend
of me old friend Tim Sullivan; but what
can do for We, Tim?''
II hardly know if / can trust the sa-
cret wild ye, Peter, but I've been casting
me eye-me dead eye'-you know, all
around me, and l can think of no friend
of mine but You, Peter, who has the
courage to take the john hand that I've
come for. can do the most of it, but
need a live man to help"
"Win a man risk in the job, Tim, or
is it only the putting some blaguard
out of the way who's disturbing your
pace of mind? If it is the last, Tim,
you can count on me, but no dalings
with your gintlemanly frind the divil,
II You plaze, Tim Sullivan. I'm not
that kind of a man"
"All right, Peter said the ghost,
"and by your leave, I'll take chair.
And now, you reminder Pat O'Rourke's
wake, do you not? where Brannagin
claned out the medicine bottles after the
whisky was gone"
"Yis." said Peter, II remember it
right well, for me cousin Judy Flanagan
broke her leg in falling over the corpse.
"Well," said the ghost, 81, that night,
promised the wildly the prisint of a fine
fat SOW with hone of allayiatiny the