The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1892-06-03
A GH0STLY MATCHMAKER.
AND THE INFLUENCE HE USED TO BRING
ABOUT A MARRIAGE

Kindly allow me to introduce myself.
OF course, you will imagine that the
somewhat commonplace person who
calls himself the author of this story is
addressing you. Nothing of the sort.
l have rented him for the occasion, al.
though l am sensible he makes but &.
poor vehicle for the transmission OF
ghostly thoughts and ideas. STILL as it
was necessary to materialize myself fol
this occasion, and he happened to be to let.
l closed with him at once on the con.
dition that he should have vacation ip
space until midnight.
This arrangement will enable me to
briefly tell you how I, a disembodied ghost
not that 1 ever heard of any other
kind of ghost-am speaking to you
with the voice of a living man-at least
he thinks himself man. I want to
tell you how l visited Aunt Matilda
and had it out with her. admit that
the proceeding was rude, but really
couldn't help myself. Any ghost with
a shadow of shadowy self respect would
have treated her in the same way.
Only last night I was off duty in
Shadowland. Something had disagreed
with me. My bones ached; they weren't
properly articulated-I believe that is the
correct term. One also suffers from
rheumatism in Ghostland, not to any
great extent, but just sufficiently so to
be unpleasant.
Kindly put out your tongue, said
my professional adviser, still sticking to
worldly phraseology from sheer force Of
habit.
hadn't a tongue, so couldn't.
"My dear Biffles, he said (my name
is Biff1es), as he dug me in the ribs until
they ratified, "my dear Biffies, what we
want is change of scene. We're de-
cidedly low-pining for something.
, We've been here 30 years without holi.
day and it's growing monotonous We
must have a night off. We want tone
-bracing up-we want to think of some
thing unpleasant which will instantly
dissipate the placidity of Ghostland.
Some one who used to quarrel with us in
the old days when we were alive. Think,
we must think, of some one down there.
"No; can't think of any one down
there, said, after moment of shadowy
reflection; "it's long time ago."
"Think, my doctor repeated, as he
felt for an imaginary watch, and rammed
it into nonexistent pocket. "Some one
who used to disagree with you very much.
Didn't you-eh-ever marry down there?"
Then remembered Matilda. A shud.
der ran down my spine. "N-no," !
said; very nearly, but she wriggled out
of it,"
ais she-eh-still down there?" he
asked, in his old professional tones. "We
want tonic, my dear Biffies-we want
tone-we want rousing-forcible rousing
we've must look her up if she hasn't
married. She'll rouse us. Who was
she 2"
Matilda" said sorrowfully, for
didn't want to be reused Il remembered
Matilda's methods of rousing ME in the
past), "she was very pretty then, but had
IA temper enough to make your bones
rattle"
"Ah, yes; just the very thing, the very
thing for us, !" he murmured. go down
and call there tonight. You will be
thankful enough to get back again, but il
will, doubtless, make little change for
you.
Somehow I had forgotten all about
Matilda. She had been oneof the dreams
had failed to grasp when l was alive.
We were psychical affinities once. How
pretty she was then! Golden hair, too,
and blue eyes, and voice like the soft
music of the wind among the pine tops
she wasn't angry; but when
she was angry it became like the roaring
of gale at sea. All, that temper! She
said she would never marry man who
smoked, unless he did it in greenhouse,
where it would keep off the flies. And
so we had parted. She said had seemed
to think that matrimony was all smoke;
and that smoke in drawing room cur.
tains was thing no woman would put
up with. So we agreed to disagree.
caught the 10 o'clock Phantom Spe
cial, and reached London in 40 seconds.
The guard landed me in Matilda's draw.
ing room. In another second l found
myself confronting two psychical atfin'