Judge — December 19, 1903 — page 22: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘Written by W. D. NESBIT. aT THIS down as a fact, a Christmas ghost makes a happy New Year. But it is necessary that the ghost be approached in the proper spirit. Prior to the partic- ular Christmas with which the ghost I am about to write of was connected, | had been the devoted admirer of Fanny Brown. But she possessed a stern papa, who had ex- hibited the door to me, and accompanied the ex- hibition with some remarks that one gentleman would not use to another unless he desired the other gen- tleman to make a hurried and farewell exit. The causes leading up to this door-exhibition and spirited address on the part of Mr. Brown may be told in afew words, Mr. and Mrs. Brown had met Madame Serena at an evening’s entertainment at the home of a friend. The madame is a lady who deals in spirits of the disembodied variety. She had told the Browns all about the spirit world, and, in laying out the plans and specifications thereof, had assured them that they had a guardian spirit. Nice sort of a guardian spirit he was, too! Meddling, old, garrulous busybody, that had died not too soon, I'll be bound. An introduction to the guardian spirit followed, and he assured Mrs. Brown that he could tell her everything that was happening anywhere at any time. In the course of her interview with his ghostship she asked him for some information about what I was doing in my spare time. She might have known that my spare evenings were spent in her parlor, sitting on her furniture, talking to her daughter. Everything in that house was hers—down to Brown's soul. I never was as much afraid of Brown as | am—was—of her, and he would not have called my attention to that door if she and the fool ghost had not urged him on, The ghost had a great story about me. She received full value for her money, if she wanted exciting information. I drank ; I gambled ; I don't know what I did not do—according to the ghost. Result: The door. Fanny met me in the park the Tuesday before Christmas and laid the main points of the above before me. T asked her what I could be expected to do. “ Why, lay that ghost, you silly thing.” She said that in as matter-of-fact a way as if she were telling some one to lay a carpet. “ But,” I objected, “I never laid a ghost in my life, Never even saw one. Wouldn't know one if I did see it.” “Now, Tom Riggs, am kind enough to believe it is the th.ags you never did that have caused this—this painful episode. And you must—do you hear me ?—must corner that ghost and make him stop interfering with |—with little affairs which do not concern him.” Thave found out since then that when Fanny says “ must” the word has its full dictionary value, She resembles her mother in some respects. Mr. Brown and I often comment upon it, privately. So the next evening found me in the presence of Madame Serena. The madame was talkative and interesting. She knew all the ghosts —good, bad and indifferent. Called some of them by their first names, Ttold her she ought to feel perfectly at home when she died. We chatted about spirits and people for a time, and then, quite casually, I mentioned the Browns. “Oh, yes,” she smiled.“ They are such lovely people. And they have a guardian spirit.” You don't say ?” I answered, trying to be properly awestruck. Yes, indeed. And he is such a lovely, intelligent soul.” “Is he, so?” I murmured. Ikstrated by C. J. TAYLOR. Then the madame went on to tell me about him, and I ke pt letting my interest grow larger and larger, until at last I said, Vd like awfully to meet him.” ‘asy enough,” she assured me.“ My fee for personal introduc- tions is five dollars.” “Could I arrange to meet him at my rooms ?” “Thave my doubts. He is very exclusive, you know Iknew, Especially as to information. “But, I will summon him,” went on the madame, as if she had but to touch a button for him. She collected five dollars and closed her eyes. Pretty soon she began murmuring to herself and nodding her head as if she were getting replies. I was about to ask her if the line was busy, when she opened her eyes and informed me that the ghost had consented to call on me the following evening. Then she bowed me out, after collecting twenty dollars more for the interview she had arranged. It was evident that no ghosts were sent c.o.d. I waited about my rooms all the next evening, and was just about to charge the twenty-five dollars to experience, when a suppressed sort of voice said, * Put out the light, Mr. Riggs.” It was a thin, unbodied voice. Just the tone you would expect a really enterprising ghost, who had the traditions of his profession in mind, to adopt. I knew right away that the interview was an assured thing, so out went the light. “There he sat. He was perched in an easy chair, with the back of the chair showing right through him, He held a shadowy hat in his hand, and a shadowy cane leaned against his transparent knee. “You're the ghost,are you?” Lasked, as coolly as I could, “Yes, sir,” piped that thread-like th YZ voice. Wy, “++ Blowing yourself 7" "* | | i} | comicbooks.com