The Weber Literary Journal A few days later Mrs. Lundy paid her neighbor another visit. "Oh Mrs. Hartley! Have you heard the latest news?' "No. I haven't heard anything since you were here last." "Oh goodness! Lots of things have happened since then. Deacon Burns was frightened nearly to death night before last." "How was that?" "Well it was like this. The Deacon, as you know, does not believe people come back to earth. He thought people were foolish for being so scared. He said he was going to catch the ghost." "Did he do it?" "No, he didn't. He sat down by some bushes in a place where he could watch all over the orchard. It got dark and nothing happened so he started walking around among the trees and just as he came out from behind a bunch of brush he ran right into it. He said it gave a blood curdling scream and then vanished." "My, I bet the poor old man was scared." "I guess he was from what they say anyhow last Sunday in meeting he got up and preached a sermon on it. You wasn't there, was you?" "No, I didn't feel like going." "Well, he said the Lord let her come back here and haunt us because of our sins. He said we're neglecting some or our neighbors just like we neglected Sally and it should be a warning to us. Tomorrow the minister's going to see if he can scare the ghosts away or something." The next night Mr. Greene, the minister, true to his word, walked over to the old place. He was a middle-aged man whose only living relative was his daughter Sally. He was meek and humble, but unswerving in what he believed to be his duty. He did not relish the task assigned him, but it was his duty, he believed; so he went to see if he could rid the town of it's ghosts. He had not decided on a plan. He believed that one would be revealed to him when necessary. It was a warm evening so he settled himself on the lower 22 The Weber Literary Journal limb of one of the trees and waited. The night was calm. A few stars saved it from utter darkness and made fantastic shadows under the trees. The silence was unearthly. A slight sound, the swish of a woman's skirts, woke the minister from his reverie. He peered out into the darkness. A few rods away he could discern the dim white outline of a woman. So lightly did she move among the trees that she seemed ethereal. Fascinated, he softly followed her. Once he lost her, then saw her again; then she passed from his sight through a hedge and into the old garden. Fearfully he followed her through it. He saw no one but mechanically he followed a path which led part way around a clump of bushes. He confessed to himself he was afraid, but quaking inwardly he put on a serene face and passed around the bushes. He stopped. Four yards from him was his ghost in the arms of someone tall and dark. Just then the mischevious moon reeked out from the clouds and "Father!" burst from the girl. "Sally!" from the shocked minister. Then an introduction and explanations. Sally, wandering about the garden in early May, had met her lover, a sailor from Hudson. Their feelings had been mutual. She had seen fit to let the first misconception of herself, as she went through the orchard, pass and since then the lovers had enjoyed their stolen meetings in safety at the expense of the superstitious village. "And now father," she added laughingly, "we're ready for your blessing." This the discomfited father gave while the moon overlooked the proceedings. When the roses bloomed in June the village swallowed its indignation and wedded its ghosts with a blessing. "I always did think them ghosts was mighty peculiar," ended Mrs. Lundy, as she and Mrs. Hartley were discussing the wedding. 23