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 and there were marionettes, hundreds of them all
strung on invisible wires, and all dancing around in a mad revel that
had something uncanny about it, particularly when taken in with the
singular dream as a background.

Now he was down under Trinity Church looking at a revel far stranger,
and he began to wonder if he were not a medium in spite of what the
ghosts told him. He knew that the first experience was true, and he did
not doubt that this one was equally so, and he thought that from now on
he would take up the study of the unknowable and make an exhaustive
research into all things relative to ghosts. Once before he had had a
serious intention of writing a book on the subject of ghosts, authentic
ones, but when he tried to get the matter together he found that the
nearest he could come to what he wished to find was, that no one person
not an avowed spiritualist, would admit having seen a real ghost, but
nearly all knew of some one whose aunt or grandmother had heard of some
one whose friends had thought they did see one. So he gave up that plan,
but now he thought he might get notes enough to make a book on the
subject, but then he might be injuring his plans regarding the princess.
He compromised with himself by saying that if his plan for her
deliverance failed he could then give the necessary time to the book. He
regretted that he had not got his kodak along. What a chance it would
have been to get that line of ghosts as they marched by, and what would
he not have given for a snap shot at that "coon dance."

After the waltz the company broke up into groups and talked or
promenaded around in couples, and it was a sight to remember forever to
see the young lady ghosts as they walked or hung their heads and tried
to look conscious at some tender compliment. The ghosts really had
something of the semblance of life about them, for though they had no
features left, nor eyes, there was some kind of inner light and a
radiance which took the place of flesh. It was as though the soul had
shed a soft light of its own over the fleshless skull and lent it
something of its former appearance, and the thought came to him that
perhaps these ghosts only saw the spiritual part of each other and just
as he decided that such must be the case, as nothing else would account
for so much that was otherwise unaccountable, there happened something
to put all such ideas to flight, for the three ghosts who had looked
upon the wine when it was red, seemed to have awakened under the
impression that they were being neglected, and started a row, and began
hitting out at any one in reach, be it man or woman, and so unexpected
was the assault that the skeletons went down in heaps and lay there like
so much new mown wheat.

The whole thing was so ludicrous that the newspaper man thought he must
laugh or die. But he had been schooled not to laugh at the foolishness
of others. That training stood him in good stead now, and he did keep
his face straight by promising himself the luxury of a laugh the next
day.

This control over his risibilities saved him from disaster when
interviewing a great society woman one day. She told him that she could
never bear to have any publicity, and really felt that the privacy of
her home was sacred to her, and nothing about it ought ever to be put
into any paper, while at that very moment he had her letter to his chief
in his pocket, asking that a reporter should be sent to write a
description of her house, which was one of the finest on Fifth Avenue.
Her very virtuous indignation under the circumstances was so refreshing
that the young man had found it a great and severe task to control his
amusement, and ever since that experience he had been practicing
self-control. If there is one thing more than another calculated to
afford abundant practice in this line it is being a society reporter.

So now he even refrained from clapping his hands when the Sociable Ghost
appeared with a bound, in spite of his sore toe, which the young man
noticed was held up rigidly, notwithstanding the activity of the rest of
the bony body. He laid the three flat with three well directed blows,
and set the beholder to wondering what he could have done had he not
been hampered by his troublesome foot.

When the three lay flat in a heap, he pushed them over into a corner
with his well foot and told them to lie there and not to dare to move
again until he gave them leave. One of them had lost one of his legs in
the fracas, and began to howl that he was all broken up. He begged some
one to pull him out and get his leg for him. The Sociable Ghost said, as
he rubbed his bony hands together:

"Say, oh, I say! This is fine! I have not had so much fun since I died.
It brings back old times, and for one ineffable moment I thought I was
back on my ship again and fighting out with a belaying pin at the
mutineers. Oh, yes; I had a mutiny to deal with about every six months.
It was fun. Danger? No, for the Captain always holds all the trump
cards, and I was always ready to play them. By George, I was! And this
brings it all back to me. Oh, I say; I must show you something a little
out of the usual order. It is my wife's second husband. He is among the
ghosts invited here from Derby, and I think it was a little cheeky for
him to come here, don't you?"

"What are you going to do to him?" asked the young man with some natural
curiosity.

"I am going to do just nothing to him. The poor chap has had troubles of
his own with her-enough to balance any ill will I might have had. Now,
my wife was, or rather is, for she is not dead yet, the kind of woman
that what she wants goes, whether you want it to go or not. I was
captain on board my ship, but she was the captain at home, and I was
crew and cabin boy combined. Maybe I was a bit breezy toward my men when
I got to sea again after a month or so on shore. Well: my wife had a
portrait of me, and about every half hour she used to hale my successor
up before it and tell the poor devil to look at it and see a man and,
what one looked like. She dinned my virtues into his ears so much that
at last the poor wretch died in self-defense."

"And where is the lady now?" asked the young man with interest.

"Somewhere in Boston, I believe. The last I heard of her she was giving
my money away to the missionaries. I never had any use for missionaries,
dead or alive. They come on board your ship, and the best you have is
not too good for them, and they want to hold service every Sunday. I
know a missionary as soon as I hear him speak. They always say Sabbath
for Sunday, and babe for baby. There's lots of them down here."

For once the newspaper man forgot his tact, and said:

"I should think that you would have been glad to have them hold service
for the sailors. I have heard that they are mostly amenable to religious
instruction and guidance."

"Yah! Just stow that. The sailors don't want any of their salvation any
more than the Chinamen, and it don't do any more good. You 

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