Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-04-02

nble ghostly, and there O. that queer light
around it I'd heard about in ghosts But it hag
gard and thin enough to be spirit. The clothes hung
on it loose, and the hand on the doorknob like
skeleton while the face all that you could through
the black, matted beard was white an sunken and
fearful. The thing wasn't transparent, though, all
cept the and-honestly. sir, you could almost see
through that, it was so thin!'
HE paused, during which silence fastened to make
- notes of his description of the apparition. The
matter of the opacity of the object interesting and
unique
an admit 1 nervous" he continued; "but 1
didn't see any particular reason for Peter dom me
HARM in flesh out so tried to be natural and said:
- How you, Peter?
"How would you expect man to be who'd been
cut to pieces and killed by railroad engne he asked,
with bitter laugh.
@Wel, said /, mot havin ever been through that
experience can't tell offhand; but always thought
that what happened to in the body didn't carry over
to the next world. Does it?'
at does and it don't, said he 'rsuppose I'll get
it in time; but it was sudden shock to hear
mean to feel them wheels go over me, and
DRY if yesterday. How did happen, anyhow?
You comm to my shanty, wasn't you, to find out
how the family was, and see about goin homer Wasn't
al suppose was Tom,' says he. And then3'
@'You ought to know says 1. All can tell is they
called out, and found you all-well, you were
dead, Peter
allow did you know me?'
~'The clothes. 1t that suit, and besides you
that you never would pawn, you said
@'Don't, Toni he says puln one of his bony hands
his eyes, and ookn near to cryin as crea-
ture of air and mystery could Then there wasn't any
thing said for minute, till he looked up and asked:
@'We, and what them
ayes, yes!'
@'Don't ask to tell you,' says I. l was almost
eryin' myself. and couldn't see him through the mist
like he used to when he'd home and I'd tell him
how his wife had been pinin for him. When could
him again, his face cold and set and
he said:
al suppose they buried me?
@Out to Chestnut Hills says in decent grave.
You would have no shame to see the place.
Then he stopped and looked down and fingered at the
edge of the long he At last he looked up and
said like he was tearin the question out OF himself,
'She-my wife-she is still
@He stopped; so finished it for him, as thought he
meant ,.,,
house. like you left her. You know, Peter, after
you died
WAS gon to go on and tell him the whole business
of her struggles and how she'd finally married George
Lawlor when remembered that probably he knew I'll
about it, anyway; and if he didn't it would be
painful subject than I'd like to dwell on Fortunately.
he broke in:
@'Don't tell mel he says 4 can't bear to hear!
left her money and the baby just come, and-God,
Toni What scoundrel
3'Don't, Peter says trying to console him.
al can't help it,, says he To think how made her
suffer- and the privaons she must have gone through!
But tell me just this Has it off some? Is she hap
per?'
az think she is very happy, Peter, says l, If that
do you any good
3'Thank God!' says he. That's the first breath of
relief that has passed my lips"
interrupted the fish warden. "Did he say 'breath?"
asked.
@Breath was the word Mister 1 noticed it as
strange the time; but didn't pretend understand
ghosts way of speaking Besides, he went quick
didn't have time to do much thinking about it.
"Tom,' says the ghost Il was scoundrel and got