Hallowe'en festivities . ties and defiance. There were nomore observations to be made. I would not speak to theinhabitants of my own world, though the vertebra parted,and each hair turned white where it stood. I got into mybed with a desperate determination to remain there, and Iremained till morning. Morning came. There was nothing at the windows,nothing at the door, on the furniture, behind the furniture,under the bed—nothing in the pitcher, the basin—nothinganywhere. I struck against the porcelain foot-bath, unstumbledagainst and unremembered the night before, and screamed—in a voice that b
Hallowe'en festivities . ties and defiance. There were nomore observations to be made. I would not speak to theinhabitants of my own world, though the vertebra parted,and each hair turned white where it stood. I got into mybed with a desperate determination to remain there, and Iremained till morning. Morning came. There was nothing at the windows,nothing at the door, on the furniture, behind the furniture,under the bed—nothing in the pitcher, the basin—nothinganywhere. I struck against the porcelain foot-bath, unstumbledagainst and unremembered the night before, and screamed—in a voice that brought the household to my threshold—over a half-grown, half-drowned rat, that was swish, swish-ing with its wretched little cla.:s up the concave side of theslippery ware and sliding back into its unwished-for bathof ten inches of cold and mustardy water. I screamed, but it was morning. My reputation for cour-age was lost, but no one of that household has known ofcause to accuse me of superstition unto this 88 WERNERS READINGS No. St, THAT AWFUL GHOST. The ghost about which I shall speak is probably the mostblood-curdling and terror-inspiring ghost ever seen; at leastthat was what my two boy friends and I thought as we camescampering through a field, falling over stones and stumps,plunging headlong into thickets and yelling at the top of ourvoices. The way it all came about was this: It was early in had started out in the afternoon to go trouting in thepretty little mountain stream that comes dashing down fromthe side of the Ossipee range and empties into WinnipisseoLake at Melvin village. So exciting had the sport been that we kept on, followingthe stream far up the mountain, and it was not until nearsunset that it occurred to any of us that it was time to startfor home. I say, Jerry, shouted Bill my friend, the sun isntmore than an hour high, and theres a fog rising down thereon the lake. If you two dont want to stay out in the woodsall night, youd bett
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