A PRACTICAL JOKE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 969, 3 August 1877, Page 3

A PRACTICAL JOKE.

Why have I such an unaccountable dislike to practical joking ? you ask. Jack. Well, I will tell you, and perhaps when I have done so my dislike will not appear so ‘ unaccountable,’ as you call it, after all. I was once concerned in a practical joke that had a vcy tragical ending ; if you would like to heai the story, why here goes—but first let me refill my pipe. lu my student days, you may perhaps remember, I occupied furnished lodgings in Gower street—within a stone’s throw of the hospital. Well, late one xvinter’s night, as I sat reading by my fire I read pretty hard in those days I heard a ring at the bell, and who should walk in but Tom Price madcap Tom, as we used to call him. ‘Good gracious, Tom,’ I said, * why who would have thought of seeing you at this time of night - what is it ?’ ‘ Throw by your musty old books, my boy,’ said Tom, we’re going to have some fun tonight and want you to join us.’ Why, what is in the wind now ?’ 1 said, as I closed my book and placed a chair for my visitor. ‘ Come on, said Tom, ‘ wo have no time to lose, and I will tell you all about it as we go along.’ No matter now what it was he told me as we burned through the quiet streets to my friend’s rooms. Suffice it to say for the present that a practical joke was contemplated, and I was foolish and wr ng enough to consent to play my part in that night’s work. Arrived at Tom’s rooms we found a merry little party at supper; nearly all of them students. In the course of after supper conversation the subjects of spiritualism and clairvoyance, which were then beginning to attract a good deal of attention, were started, and Tom Price entered into an animated discussion with a new follow named White, in which he avowed himself a firm believer in the supernatural; while White, who could ill conceal his contempt for the other’s opinions, as warmly maintained that spiritualism was a gigantic swindle ; a morbid fancy indulged in only by the weak and credulous mind. * It is all very well to talk like that,’ remarked Tom (who, by the way, had about as much faith in the supernatural as White himself), ‘ but there are very few of your professing unbelievers who would consent to have their courage put to the test. Look for instance, at your houses where murder has been committed—do they ever let as well again? Never. The very man who has been pooh-poohing the idea of the bouse being haunted would be the very last to voluntarily become its tenant. Then again look at your churchyards ; why the country people would rather go a mile out of their way than cross one after nightfall. Oh, yes, you may say all this is “ very foolish,” but it is the fact, nevertheless. Why I have actually known a strong man turn pale at the idea of remaining in the same room with a corpse all night. Well, 1 am nob very superstitious, but upon my word I wouldn’t do it myself, for any consideration.’ ‘I can understand,’ said White, quietly, ‘ these things having terrors for the ignorant and the vulgar mind, but the idea of any man with a grain of common sense fearing to remain alone with the dead is to me utterly ridiculous.’ ‘ You mean to say that you would have no objection to do so yourself ? ’ said Tom, with affected surprise—‘l should like to prove your courage, Mr White.’ ‘ You are at perfect liberty to do that whenever you please/ observed White, with a sneer; while Tom gave us a look which plainly said ‘ I have carried my point, boys. ’ ‘ If Mr White really means what he says,’ remarked Bob Malony, an old chum of Tom’s, ‘ I see no reason why the thing should not be done this very night—l think 1 can manage it—my landlord, as you know, Tom, died last week from the effects of an accident. But I really think Mr White had better give up the idea. I am uo believer in ghosts, but I know I should be very sorry to do it. ’ But the more we endeavoured to dissuade him the more determined did our new acquaintance become to prove the truth of his assertion. And so the thing was arranged : Malony and Tom Price stepping over the way to speak to the housekeeper about it, as they said. When they returned, which they did in about half an hour, we broke up, and all went over to the bouse. An old woman, the deceased landlord’s housekeeper, opened the door to our subdued knock; and, without a word, ushered ua upstairs. As we crossed the threshold of the room where lay the dead, we paused to remove our hats. The intense silence, broken only by a neighbouring church clock striking twelve, was almost oppressive. It was a hare-looking, uncarpeted room; its only furniture consisting of an old-fashioned tent bedstead with thick white curtains, a ricketty table, and a few rush-bottomed chairs. Close to the bedstead, resting on tressles, was the coffin. I fancy our sceptical friend half regretted his bargain already, as bis eyes wandered round this dismal abode of death. Not a word escaped his lips however. He seated himself at the table, and producing from one pocket a volume of some German author, he was reading, and from the other a small, bright doublebarrelled pistol, observed in a low firm tone, ‘Now, look here, your fellows, 1 am going to keep my word and sit here till daylight. But let me caution you against trilling with me. if you have any such intention; for as sure as you are born, if there is any foul play, I intend to lire, so I give you fair warning. ’ Having said this he lit his pipe and commenced to read. Tom nodded gravely, and wishing him good-night, we closed the door softly behind ns and left him to keep his lonely vigil. An hour passed; the clock chimed halfpast one. What an age it seemed since twelve o’clock ! The watcher still read on; he was as sleepless as ever, but the intense silence broken only by the tick, tick of the clock on the stairs was making him nervous in spite of himstlf. Suddenly a slight grating noise in the room attracted his attention; he looked up ; all was again still. He went ou reading. Ten minutes had hardly elapsed before the noise was repeated more distinctly. White laid down his hook this lime and glanced towards the bed, “The coffin lid ha I shifted and the corpse was sitting upright staring wildly at him !” ‘ Now, I told you what I would do if there was any nonsense of this kind,’ exclaimed White, iu an excited tune, as he jumped up and seized his pistol, ‘ and unless you stop this tom foolery at once 1 will bo as good as my word. ’ But the corpse never stin od. ‘Here yocs then/ he said, ‘mind the

fault is yours not mine—one, two, three — bang !’ Already repenting what he had done in the excitement of the moment, and dreading to see a real corpse at his feet, White rushed towards the ngure. !'ut it was as motionless and as staring as ever; and. as he approached it, tossed back the bullet just discharged in his face ! The now terribly excited man hurriedly discharged the other barrel at the figure, and again the bullet was tossed back to him. White dxopped the pistol, uttered a terrible cry and fell on his face. At this moment we {who had been watching him through a crevice in the adjoining room the whole time) rushed in ; our poor victim had swooned away. When he came out of that swoon, Jack, ‘he was a maniac.’ Our foolish hoax is soon explained ; of course the whole thing was preconcerted. Tom Price and Malony had persuaded another student named Green to enact the corpse; and as for the trick with the bullets, Tom had, while pretending to examine White’s jjpistol, taken care to withdraw the charges, replacing them with harmless substitutes—the trick is one with which every conjuror is familiar. And that is why I have given up practical joking, Jack; I have never taken part in one since, and I never will again as long as I live, I am happy to add as a wind-up to my story that poor White after some months’ confinement had his reason perfectly restored to him. After that he went to reside abroad for some years, married, returned home, and is now, I am glad to say, one of my best friends. C.A.W.