The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1895-09-27
A GHOST STORY.

Not many years ago people used to sheer
- ghosts and ghost stories much more
than they do now, and one would con-
stantly hear people whisper TO one anoth-
ar, while some individual was relating his
or her experience: "Ah, it is very odd that
these ghost stories should always be relat-
cd at second or third hand. Now, want
TO see a person who personally has seen the
ghost, and then I will believed"
Yes, people are more accustomed to
hearing about ghosts now, and yet even
now should it be wife, daughter or sister
who ventures to narrate some supernatural
experience she Is poohpoohed, or laughed
at, or told to take pill"
Now, / have seen a ghost and am pre-
pared to attest most solemnly to the fact
as we'll as to the truth of every word here
set down. have of course avoided names,
but nothing else, so, without further pre-
amble, l will state my case.
Some years ago l became the object of
the infatuated alteration of u person Of my
own age and sex, and 1 use the word Sin
fatuated" advisedly, because l feel now,
as did at the time, that neither nor any
mortal that ever lived could possibly be
worthy of the overwhelming affection
which my poor friend lavished upon me.
/, on my side, was not ungrateful toward
her. for loved her In return very dearly,
but when 1 explain that 1 was wife and
the mother of young children, and that
she was unmarried, it will easily be I'M
derstood that our devotion to each other
must of necessity be rather one sided, and
this fact caused some dispeace between us
at times
For many years my friend held post at
court, which she resigned soon after she
began to know me, and although her royal
mistress in her gracious kindness, assign
ed two houses to her she gave them both
up To be free to live near me in P.
Indeed she gave up relatives, old servants
and comforts In order that she might come
and live land die, alas In lodgings, over
a shop, near me. But she was not happy.
She "gloomed'' over the inevitable fact
that. in consequence of the differences In
her home circumstances and mine, could
not be with her every day and all day
long. 1 think she was naturally of an
unhappy disposition, being deeply, pas
sionately and unjustiflably jealous, and
also painfully incapable Of taking things
and people as they were. All this gave me
often much annoyance, but we were, all
the same, sometimes very cheerful and
happy together and sometimes the re-
verse.
Later on, she, poor soul, was taken i'll,
and during months of fluctuating health
nursed her-sometimes in hope, sometimes
without-and at, moments during her i'll
ness she found strange comfort in foretell-
ing to me, after the most "uncanny'' fash
ion, things which she declared would hap
pen to me after her death. They were
lu triy iali 10 arie
ing people and things over whom we had
talked and laughed together, for she was
gifted with a keen sense of the ridiculous.
Among other things she said to me one
afternoon
"This bazaar for which we are work
ing (she had been helping me for weeks
for charity bazaar, and can now SEQ her
dainty little hands as she manipulated the
delicate muslin and lace; poor, poor
L-D-"I shall be dead before 1t takes
place, and shall see you at your stall, and
ON one of the days of the bazaar an old
lady will come up TO you and say: Have
you any of poor Miss LIS work. Omen
tioning me- And you will answer Yes;
here Is some, and you will show her this
which am working, and She IL say, Have
you any more?' and you III say Yes again,
and she'll carry 1t all Oft and say she buys
IL for poor Miss LIS sake. And l
shall know and SEQ 1t all!''
remember repeating wonderingly,
what ladyS"
She answered dreamily: "Oh, l don't
know, but some old lady You'll Sect
And 1 am bound to say this is actually
what occurred at the bazaar, months after
her death. An old lady, with whom 1 was
not acquainted, did buy all her work, hav-
ing asked for it and carrying it away for
her saker" An old lady too, whom had
never seen.
One other curious circumstance which
attended her death was that, after looking
forward with more than usual pleasure to
my coming birthday (which she said would
be "a more than commonly happy ami
versary") that was the very day on which
she died.
which ever experienced In my life con-
sisted In the fact that was not with my
dearest friend at the moment that she
passed away She had made me promise
that would be with her at that time, and
God knows had the fullest intention of
fulfilling her wish, but on that very even
ing, of all others, was called away, and
she died In my absence. 1 had been sit
ting by her bedside all the afternoon, and
all that evening had held her dear hand
and had kept whispering comforting
words in her ear but latterly she had
made no response and was seemingly un-
conscious.
Suddenly a messenger came from my
house mot hundred yards 1t was away
saying my husband wanted me at once as
one of my children was i'll. 1 looked at
the nurse, who assured me there was moth
ing immediate impending, so STOPPING
over my poor friend 1 whispered, at the
same time pressing a kiss on her forehead,
that half an hour should see me at her
aide again" But she took no notice, and,
much against my will. hastily and noise
lessly left the room.
Throwing a shawl over my head, hur-
ried across the square, and as I passed the
church the clock struck 12, and sudden
ly remembered that today was my birth
day
got back In less than half an hour, and
on my return heard, to my everlasting sor
row, that had not been gone ten minutes
before my dear L. became restless and
uneasy; then, starting up In her bed, she
looked hastily round the room, gave q CRY,
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