"
"What! that house at the end of the lane?" I asked, with sudden
interest.
"Just so; nice place, but lonesome and dampish. Ghosts and toadstools
are apt to locate in houses of that sort," was his mild reply.
The dampness scared me more than the ghosts, for I had never seen a
ghost yet; but I had been haunted by rheumatism, and found it a hard
thing to get rid of.
"I've taken a room there, so I'm rather interested in knowing what
company I'm to have."
"Taken a room, have you? Well, I dare say you won't be troubled. Some
folks have a knack of seeing spirits, and then again some haven't.
"My wife is uncommon powerful that way, but I an't; my sight's dreadful
poor for that sort."
There was such a sly look in the starboard eye of the old fellow as he
spoke, that I laughed outright, and asked, sociably--
"Has she ever seen the ghosts of the cottage? I think I have rather a
knack that way, and I'd like to know what to expect."
"No, her sort is the rapping kind. Down yonder, the only ghost I take
much stock in is old Bezee Tucker's. Some folks say they've heard him
groaning there nights, and a dripping sound; he bled to death, you know.
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