Year: 1875

The country around the town of
Chuckleton, in our State is of limestone
formation. The town stands on a high
hill, at the foot of which there is won
derful spring, and the belief has always
been thai the hill was full of great caves
and assures, through which the water
made its way to feed the spring. Well,
year or two ago they organized ceme-
terry company at Chuckieton, and they
located the graveyard upon the hill, a
short distance back of the town. After
they had deposited several bodies in the
ground, one day somebody discovered
coffin floating in the river. 1t was hauled
out and it proved to be the body of Mr..
Piggott, who was buried in the cemetery
the day before. The Coroner held an
inquest, and they reinterred the corpse.


On the following morning, however,
Mr.. Piggott was discovered humping up
against the wharf at the gas works, in
the river. People began to be scared, and
there was some talk to the effect that he
had been murdered, and couldn't rest
quietly in his grave. But the Coroner
was not scared. He impaneled jury,
held another inquest, collected the usual
fees, and buried the body. Two days
afterward some boys, while in swimming,
found burial casket floating under the
bushes down by the saw-mill. They
called for help, and upon examining the
interior found the irrepressble Mr.. Pig
gott again. This was too much. Even
the minister began to believe in ghosts,
and not a man in town dared to go out
of the house alone that night. But the
Coroner controlled his emotions suf-
fciently to sit on the body, make the
usual charges, and bury Mr.. Piggott in
fresh place in his lot.


The next morning, while Jim DobsOn
was drinking out of the big spring, he
saw something push out of the mud in
the bottom of the pool. He turned as white
as sheet as he watched it, and in few
minutes he saw that it was coffin.
1t foated out, down the creek
into the river, and then Jim ran
to tell the Coroner. That official had a
jury waiting, and he went for the coffin
1t was old Mr.. Piggott as usual, and they
went through the usual routine with
him, and were about to bury him when
his family came forward and said they
would prefer to inter him in another
place, being convinced now there must
be subterranean channel leading from
the cemetery to the spring. The coroner
couldn't object, but after the Piggotts
were gone he said to the jury that people
who would take the bread out of the
mouth of poor man in that way would
be certain to come to want themselves
some day. He said he could easily have
paid off the mortgage on his house and
lot, and his little girl take lessons on the
melodeon besides, if they'd just allowed
Piggott to wobble around the way he
wanted to.


There was no more trouble up at the
cemetery after that until they buried
Joe Middles, who used to have the fish
house over the river at Deacon's. They
entombed the old man on Thursday
night. On Friday morning one of the
Woodruf's was walking down on the
river bank, and he saw man who looked
very much like Mr.. Middles sitting up
in canoe out in the stream, fishing.
He watched the man as he caught two
or three fish, and was just about to con-
clude it was some unknown brother Of
Mr.. Middles' when the fisherman looked
up and said:


"Hollo, Harry"


. "Who are your asked Woodruff.


"Who am I? Why, Joe Middles, of
course. Who'd you think l wasp re-
marked the fisherman, as he padded in
shore with piece of board.


You amt Joe Middles, for he is
dead. Invent to his funeral yesterday"


Funeral" exclaimed the fisherman,
as he stepped ashore. "Well, by George!
maybe that explains the thing. Pve
been bothering myself the worst kind to
understand something. Now, you know
that remember being at home in bed,
then | went to sleep somehow, and when
l woke up it was dark as pitch. gave
a kick to kinder stretch myself, and
knocked the lid off of this thing here-a
canoe, l thought it was-and then set
up and found myself out here in the
river. l took the lid to split into pad
dies, and / saw on it q plate with the
words, Joseph Middles, aged sixty-four,'
and 1 couldn't imagine how'n thunder
that ever got on that lid. Howsomever,
/ pulled over to the shanty and got some
lines and bait, and foated out again,
thinking while / was here / might as
we'll get mess of fish before got home.
And so it's coffin, after all and they
buried me yesterday. Well, that beats
the very old -, now, doesn't it! Pm
going to row right over to the house.
How it'll skeer the old woman to see me
coming in safe and sound"


Then the resurrected Mr.. Middles
padded off The cemetery company
failed on the following month from in
ability to sell the lots.