The record-union., 1896-11-15
MY GHOST

Terry)
The Experience Club" is an associa-
tion Of gentlemen interested in anna
feur photography. The pursuit Of out
cf-theway subjects for pictures, espe-
Cially during the summer vacations
often leads to adventures or at least
TO experiences. 1t struck one of these
members that these experiences writ
ten out and read at the winter meetings
Of the association, might add a novel
and entertaining feature-something
TO give the right finishing touch to the
more practical side of the evening The
acea has proved admirable, and is here
Passed along for the benefit of similar
associations everywhere.
My initial experience in photography
shall never forget. It has literally
changed the whole course of my life.
has made literally a different man CT
me. Destiny seems to prefer working
With the unnoticed and the trivial. to
1mpart TO apparently slight incidents
an importance in the chain of personal
history that results in linking the start
lingly unexpected with the curiously in
consequential
certainly expected nothing in par
1lcular from the invitation / received
In the summer of 1895 to visit nv uncle.
Seth FISK, at his home on the Hudsol
aSoVe Poughkeepsie My uncle and his
oder boys had spent the last few years
ABROAD, While the three younger daugn-
terS were left at home to be educated
round these daughters about what I
expected, very conventional: in Ameri-
can phrase, very slow Had I not
brought my camera with me I should
nave had very stupid time AS 1t was
i found plenty of amusement.
Not far from my uncle's was a place
with history-Oak Knoll The house.
large, old-fashioned one. could hardly
be seen from the road, so dense was the
1angle of trees and shrubbery that had
grown up in riotous profuson of self
VIII, unrestrained by cutting or prun-
ang. The house stood on hill around
which was a serpentine driveway. The
place. including many acres, was in
closed by scraggly hedge, broken down
mere and there by children who found
the recesses of wood and thicket lust
the right place to play The piazza
commanded a fine view of the town
N~AAO AANSi, WINE JUS O1 the picturesque
everywhere wooed the camera. Here 7
couio De found when there was nothing
special in hand, always hoping that
could have a chance to see the inside
OF the deserted mansion-deserted now
Tor years. 1t was once owned by a
sister of my aunt's-she was my aunt
ny marriage-there was a tragedy con-
nected with it; it was now in litigation:
1T was never mentioned at my unclc's-
tnat was all L knew about it. Chance
favored me. An old janitor who had
turned what was once Toulouse into
an humble home, happened to find me
taking picture one day. He watched
NE curiously, and asked me if I had
ever been inside. l shook my head,
and eagerly inquired why he would not
let me in.
Amt afeared of muffin, is yer?"
NO, uncle; but why? What is
tlere?"
Dunno of muffin much"
And that was all the old fellow would
say, as he led the way to a door in the
wing. Through what was once kitch-
en-, through a long dark passageway.
cobwebs festooning the dark walls,
dirty and dingy, through doors that
clanked and echoed dismally, we passed
into a noble hall. AT one end were the
wide double front doors; at the other
was a large eXpanse of glass reaching
above the second floor, divided up into
little diamond panes of various colors,
lighting an old-fashioned stairway that
ran up nine or ten broad steps to a
landing, then turned at sharp angle
and ran up five or more to another land
ing-a series of such flights until the
next floor was reached. Over the big
window. or windows, was a luxuriant
creeper. here shutting out the light with
thick foliage, and there letting through
the bright afternoon sun, a patchwork
of green and various hues casting queer
shadows and quaint figures on the stairs
as the leaves gently stirred under
playful summer breeze.
What a picture for my cameran
exclaimed. ANY objection to my TAX
ing it, uncle?"
Dunno of muffin much" obviously
assented the old man.
| waited for no further permission
The afternoon sun was going, and the
trees would soon shut out the light.
made haste to get my camera, focus the
window and stairway and. expose the
plate the old man watching me closely
the while, and shaking his head and
muttering to himself. As soon as I had
made sure of a good view, it was time
10 go home The old man parted from
me without even a good night.
The next morning L developed the
plate Pouring the fluid with care and
watching the outlines grow toward dis
tinctness. what was the figure that
seemed 10 stand out in the center of the
clearing blur? There certainly was
figure there-a woman's figure. My
eyes We're not playing me a trick. What
could il mean? There was no one in
the old house when / took the picture
but the old negro and myself. Yet on
the stairway was woman. / could
with difficulty restrain my impatience
to allow time for the developing of the
picture until ii would be safe for me to
take il into the light and examine it.
Yet / now regarded 1t as 50 much the
greater prize that / actually allowed
more time than was necessary
At last I decided that / had waited
long enough Taking the plate to tire
light, / was startled indeed. There,
halfway up the stairway, on one of
the platforms where it turned al a rigft
angle (already explained) stood listen
ing girl robed in white There was no
nistaking her attitude. She seemed to
rest against the bannister looking down.
while her eyes had an intent, far-awav
look. Someone apparently had called
TO her from below; she had started to