A GHOST STORY.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2147, 7 February 1880, Page 3

A GHOST STORY.

In those days, when ghost-lore seems to be fast vanishing into space, it may interest some of m} r readers to hear the following story as it was told, by the individual concerned,. a rising diplomatist, in a pleasant continental town that I happened to visit. “ You will remember,” he said, “ that on my return here after my marriage, we took a small house in one of the principal.streets, not by' any means an old building,, or in any way different from the ordinary run of houses of the same size. It so happened that after we had settled ourselves, I was obliged to be. away, in England, leaving my wife here' alone. On my return she mentioned to me that she had dreamed four or five times running the same dream, and that it always took place when she had been in bed about an hour. She was not in the least nervous about it, nor gave me the slightest’hint that she suspected anything but of the common. _ About three days after our conversation, wC were dressing for dinner, and the door le'adingifrom my dressing-room to my wife’s room was,open, ; wjicn ovfttyf? me : “ Is it hot curious, I feel exactly as if some one was in the rbom with I me ? Are you still dressing y* I re- ( plied that I had never left the room. That night, shortly after going to bed I distinctly saw a little old man, .with blonde cenitre beard, come into, our bedroom and walked through into my dressing room. The lire was burning brightly all the time, as also a rushlight at,the.further end of the room. I jumped ' quickly out of bed and, came behind the figure, which was. standing at my dressing fable, and was perfectly visible from our room, saying : ‘•' Come, I have got you now !’ As you know, I am a pretty strong-minded individual, and have never had much leaning toward ‘spiritual fancies,’ even when a medium has held most of the spectators entranced by his performance ; but I confess that I had a bad moment when the figure, instead of giving me, a crack on fbe head or begging for mercy, adopted the most unusual course of vanishing altogether.'! I said nothing to my wife about the affair ; but the next evening, at nearly the snnm time, in walked the figure again and stood in the doorway', looking at us. I woke my wife and we both had a good stare at him, and .in. about two minutes he walked leisurely through the doorway, out of sight. Personally speaking, I don’t-care bow-ofteit the-old' genllcmart comes. My wife is, also adverse to leaving a comfortable, house, on which, she is so pleased to term ‘ a bogey,’| so we Lave never moved, and from time to time 'our old . friend appears and goes through the same performance. I have

made inquiries from some neighboring shopkeepers, and from my description they jat once recognised the figureTsaw as the former owner of my house, who died some ten or twelve years ago.” —“ London Truth.”