The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1894-12-29
Select Sturp.
A NEW YEARS GHOST.

The wind races wildly through the
town. making weird, moaning sound in
desolate places near the coast, where great,
dark rocks cast their uncanny shadows,
and around the village gables The few
stars which glimmer between the heavy
clouds look pale and shivering, but the
village windows are red with light, and it
is evident that an event of no small i'm
portanee is at hand Lanterns gleam
along the main street, footsteps echo on
the ground, for there is only the lightest
sprinkling of snow over the rough hub
bles But lanterns and footsteps all wind
towards the village store just now, where
every evening the sailor and farmer, and
and even the squire, the aristocracy, as
well as the humber portion of the town,
congregate to discuss the weather, the
crops, the news, and to relate thrilling
stories of adventures at sea.
Tonight conversation is unusually brisk
and interesting. The parson himself is
there, and condescends to joke little with
the cozy group at the back of the glowing
stove, while waiting for his purchases to
be weighed and tied up in separate brown
paper parcels, and, in spite of himself,
waits moment to hear the announcement
of thrilling ghost story, told with the
assurance that it is a solemn fact, by
brown old sailor, who shakes his gold ear
rings as he proceeds in his recital. with
great deal of nervous energy,
Now, this is ez true as | set in this
cheer, gentlemen, he announces, grave
ly at the end of nearly every sentence.
And though he is not sitting at all, but
leaning his stalwart length over -four
barrel, no one seems to doubt The
squire looks as gravely interested as the
boys. The parson smiles, but it is notice
able 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 advertisement of the toothache medi-
cine 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 lamplighs, the
weird shadows in the corners, and mean
dering wreaths of smoke which curl up to-
ward the dingy rafters overhead. and en-
circle the head of the old story teller, Civ
ing him the look Of an enchanter or a genii
of old working over the fire.
There is the trouble of the sea, the
wailing of the wind The story ended,
long=drawn breath goes around the circle
The parson gives utteranee to nervous
little laugh then suddenly becoming alive
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
fisherman i see John Norton's ghost
last night as plain as | see you this blessed
minute. went daown to my boat house
there to 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 staDdin n
lookin' me in the face. The moon shene
right onto his features, n lor! there
wa MT no more mistakim' L m than mis-
takin' my brothers. | didn' say moth
in was so kinder took aback, not be-
levin in ghosts afore, n he turned into
the woods road that leads to the old Nor
ton place. He moves ernuf, but wat
like walkin' He kinder glided off like
shadder, N his coat looked sorter thin n
white
s.WaIl, now, if | had n I dashed ex-
claimed jolly Hooking farmer, rubbing his
stubby chin, excited MY wife N her