And unbidden guest by W. Bob Holland. My cousins Kate and Tom Howard,
married at Trinity at Easter time, concluded to commence housekeeping by taking one
of those delightfully expensive furnished unfurnished cottages with which the fashionable watering place of w
abounds. From those rear windows one might almost take a plunge into the surf,
the beach being at the back door. They went down quite early in
May, being in a great hurry to try their domestic experiment, and as
the evenings were still cold, they spent them about the open fire, spooning.
It was upon one of these nights, about eleven o'clock, that they
were startled by a noise as of some small objects falling, soon followed by
the sound of heavy footsteps, and then quiet reigned again. Supreme at once,
Tom, poker in hand, boldly started in search of the burglar,
followed by Kate wildly clutching his coat tails. In a state of tremor,
they looked upstairs under the various beds, Kate suggesting that in novels they were
always to be found there. The dining room was next explored, where all
seemed well, and lastly the kitchen, where they found what was evidently a
solution of the mystery. The burglar had entered by the back door, which
was found to be unlocked and slightly ajar the first excitement subsiding, they returned
again to the dining room, where Tom, upon closer inspection, then discovered
that one of a pair of quaint little pepper pots wedding gifts, was missing,
and other small articles on the sideboard had been slightly disturbed. The next
morning, when Kate mildly remonstrated with the Queen of the kitchen for her carelessness,
she received a shock by being told that it was her usual custom to
leave the door open so that it could be asy convenient loki for the milkmaid.
They parted with her, and a new maid was engaged, whose chief
qualification for the place was that she was most faithful in the discharge of her
duties, especially in locking up. While they mourned the loss of the pepper
pot, it still seemed so trifling when they thought of that lovely repose salad
bowl sent by Aunt Julia, which stood nearby, that nothing was said of
the loss outside of the family and the little household settled into its normal state
once more of billing and cooing. About a fortnight later, Tom started out
one night with an old fisherman, one of the natives had a local character
to indulge in that delightful pastime so dear to the heart of man, known
as ealing, And as the night was dark, the eels were particularly sporty,
so that it was well on towards the way small ours. When Tom
at last returned to the cottage, he found all excitement within. Kate was
in hysterics, and the new maid, also weeping, was industriously applying the
camphor bottle to her mistress's nose. The burglar or ghost, as they had
now decided, the windows and doors being found to be securely locked this time,
had been abroad again and had succeeded in purloining nothing. His royal ghost
ship had amused himself, apparently by simply walking about. Oh Tom, he
had on such heavy boots and was so dreadfully bold about it, said Kate
tearfully. From that time, Kate became nervous and refused to be left alone.
Tom started whenever the door creaked and the treasure departed, hurriedly, saying
faith the house is haunted. Sure after that, Kate spent her days in
girl hunting and her nights in answering shadowy advertisements that never materialized. They tried
Irish, English, Dutch, and the Heathen Chinee with a sprinkling of colored
ladies to vary the monotony. They seemed about to become famous throughout the length
and breadth of the land as the family that changes help once a week.
When they landed Treasure number two, shortly after her advent, we were all
asked down to w to help celebrate their happiness, and incidentally, to christen
the new dining set. We were not a little surprised to find Kate so
pale and Tom rather distrait. However, after a delightful dinner that should have
filled with pleasure the most exacting bride, we adjourned the the piazza, leaving
the men to the contemplation of their cigars. We were enthusiastic in our praise
of the house and congratulated Kate in securing such a prize, when, to
our horror, she burst into tears and said, oh girls, it's a
dreadful place. It's haunted, and then tearfully proceeded with the details until we
all felt creepy and suggested the parlor and lights. It was not long afterward
that Kate discovered that Tom had also related the ghost story to the man that
evening, to which Ned Harris had said laconically rats and bob Shaw laughingly remarked,
come, old Chap, you really shouldn't take your nightcap so strong.
About the first of July, the climax came. The ghost walked again,
this time taking not only the remaining pepper pot but also a silver salt cellar.
Evidently he had a penchant for small articles, But unlike former times,
everything on the sideboard was in the greatest disorder. Aunt Julia's salad bowl was
found on the floor, and not far away the cheese dish, with its
contents scattered. About this time, one of the windows was found half open.
A week later, a note came to me from Kate saying that she
and Tom had gone to Saratoga to spend the remainder of the season with her
mother. The following spring, Tom received a note and parcel from mister b
the owner of the house at w which read as follows, Dear mister Howard,
I send you by express three articles of silver, which my wife suggests
may belong to you, as they are marked with your initials, namely two
silver pepper pots and a salt celler. They were found the other day during
the process of spring house cleaning in a hole behind the sideboard. I forgot
to have the hole stopped up last spring, or to caution you against the
water rats. The great fellows will get in. You know. Kind regards
to missus Howard, yours truly, John B. The next season, the
Ghost Club was organized, the badge being a small silver rat bearing proudly aloft
a tiny pepper pot. We thoughtfully offered Tom the presidency, but he declined
with offended dignity, from the effects of which I think he will never fully
recover. The End of the Unbidden Ghost by W. Bob Holland