rushed into my head with such impetuosity as
knocked my pipe clean put of my mouth.
' Wal, as you ask me,' I said, ' I have just one
or two or so. You were speakin' of lying up
in a table. What did you mean by that? Were
you sick?' ' No,' she said, ' that isn't the reason;
we sperits are never sick. It was because I hadn't
any clothes on. I was lying spread out most
uncomfortable in the woodwork of this kerridge,
till you was asleep, and I could dress myself.'
' Why didn't you get into one of the cushions?'
said I. 'There wasn't room,' she answered;
'these cushions on this line are all loose, and I
couldn't get into two without solution of
continuity, which is dreadfully painful for a ghost,
and very dangerous. Why, I remember a friend
of mine who did that, and the passengers took
one of the cushions to play cards on, and then
another, each giving up his seat in turn; and
what with changing partners, and putting down
the cushions the wrong way, and one thing and
another, one half of him didn't know where the
other half had got to, and, as they both began
searching one for the other at the same time,
they were near a week before they got together,
and then he kicked himself three times in the
eye before he found the join.' ' Wal,' said I,
ready with another question this time, ' are all
ghosts equally ill-provided with clothing?' ' All,'
she replied, ' except those that are buried in
clothes, and they don't last long. Ghosts used
to go about in their winding-sheets, but it
won't do now. A young ghost soon learns
that. I had mine torn to rags the first
night, and had to get into my own tombstone
—the greatest indignity a ghost has to
suffer. And even them that have dresses haven't
the right sort. A friend of mine was buried
in her bridal dress; but she got so chaffed
about it, that she left it off after a week.'
' I suppose you can find clothes generally, can't
you?' said I. ' Yes, if a ghost is not over
particular and not lazy,' she answered. ' You see,
we only want them at night, not being visible by
day, even to one another; but it's very awkward
sometimes when we are obliged to put on the
clothes you livin' bein's have just taken off,
for if you want them in the night we have to
evacuate in a hurry, and creep into any refuge
we can find, and that's the explanation of many
of those stories of crockery falling down—not
but what some ghosts like a bit of mischief
sometimes, but they are the worst sort. Now,
I remember—- ' 'Excuse me,' said I, interrupting
her, ' but what do you mean by lazy
ghosts?' ' Them that don't care about going
about decent,' said she; ' they are the sort that
mostly fills your furniture. They don't care, as
long as they are safe in the leg of a table, and
they have no sense of decency whatever; they
crowd together anyhow, and never put on
clothes from one year's end to another. They
have greatly increased of late, having got a new
pleasure in duping the living; but they are
down upon by all respectable ghosts, and they
go by name of casuals.' ' You are a respectable
ghost, I presume?' said I. ' Of course I'm
respectable,' she replied. 'I allus go about
at night well dressed, if I can; but allus
dressed. Not but what I am put to straits
occasional. The other night I was staying,
on bisness, at an old castle on the
Rhine, and there was no faymale wardrobe
there whatever; but I found a chest up-stairs
full of queer old dresses, and I had to fix myself
up in them as best I could. I met the old
baron as I was a goin' down-stairs, and nearly
frightened him into fits. I saw he sent an
account of it to a paper, in which he swears he
had a visit from his great-grandmother. How
I laughed to be sure, for my bisness had nothin'
to do with the old gentleman at all.' ' Bisness?'
I says, catching a clue. ' Do you have bisness?'
I saw I had made a mistake at once, as she
began shakin' her head from one side to the
other like a pendulum turned the wrong way
up. ' Ah,' she said, ' I have; but our bisness is
punishment. We have to go about all over the
world, tracing the history right away threw, of
all our sins. Some of our sins die out at once,
but some little things we never think twice of
at the time of committin' go rolling on like
snowballs for ever. I've only got two left now.
One of them is a lie I made a child of mine tell
to get me out of a scrape with his father, which
has already led to two murders, a suicide, and
frauds without number; I don't know when
that will die, but it's not active at the present
moment. The other, on which I'm travelling
now, is in consequence of the way I left my
property. I left it to a distant relation, who was a
spendthrift, and every penny he spent ill, I have
had to watch the effects of; but it's pretty well
worn out, as a great deal of it has passed into
charities, which relieves me. Indeed, the last evil
done with the money was by the housekeeper
of that baron on the Rhine. The son of the
man the property was left to, is now dying of
Gout, the pro-duce of port wine bought with
part of his father's fortune. I must be in at his
death, and then I think there'll be only seven
and sixpence-halfpenny left.' ' Where are you
off to now?' I asked her. ' To Americay,'
she answered. ' But what brings you here in
this carriage? I thought you sperits had a
quicker way of transit.' 'By day we fly
through the air, being invisible, but not by
night; and the man whose death I am to
be in at, will die before morning. By night
we are obliged to travel dressed, and so can
only go by mortal conveyances.' ' But how
ever will you get to Americay in that time?'
'Ah, I forgot to mention it, but we can
go by telegraph. I should have gone the
whole way by telegraph, but the line between
Dublin and Valentia is broke. Now, however,
I guess I can go through. Just be good enough
to turn your face aside one moment.'
"I did so, and 1 heard a rustle of drapery.
After waiting a minute, I looked;—and darned
if my wife's togs weren't Iying all in a heap on
the floor, and not a ghost of a ghost to be seen.
I will say that for her, that, except the gloves
were a bit stretched, the clothes weren't