The Weber Literary Journal So Bill and Jim walked over to the iron fence and Jim climbed upon the fence to the top ledge. When Jim got this far he almost decided that he wouldn't be able to walk it, but he wasn't going to be dared by anyone. He put one foot on a picket and then raised the other foot. He began to swing his arms violently in an attempt to balance himself, and then over he went. But as he fell his overalls caught on one of the pickets and there he hung. "Oh, I'm killed, I'm killed," he groaned. "Oh! Oh! Take me off here! I'm dying! Help, help!" Bill began to laugh. He laughed so hard that he fell down and rolled over and over. He kept on laughing and rolling till- Plunkety-plunk! Plunkety-plunk! Bill rolled down the steps of the cellar at the rear of the house. "Boo-hoo! Oh, Boo-hoo! Oh, my head! Oh, my knees!" howled Bill on reaching the bottom of the steps. Jim was still screaming for help, too, when out of the house at high speed came the old negro servant, Lizzie. "What in de debbil do yo' call dis here racket?" she sputtered. "You come over here and get me off this fence. I've been hanging here two hours now!" But Lizzie paid no attention to him. "Hey there, you old nigger, come here this minute and get me off!" At that, Lizzie quit laughing. She picked Bill up and put him under one arm. Then she walked over to Jim and put him under the other arm. "Dere now! For making all dis noise I'll just put yous' two in dat dere closet upstairs." "Oh, please, Lizzie, don't put us in that there closet. It's so dark in there, and anyways we didn't mean to make much noise." This from Bill. But Lizzie was stone. She took the boys upstairs to the closet, opened the door, and put them in. "If you put me in there, you oF black fool, I'll tell Ma and she'll fire you as soon as she comes home," screamed Bill. 8 The Weber Literary Journal "I's not a-scared 'dat Missis. She ain't got enough power t' frighten a chicken." She locked the door and went down stairs, leaving the boys in the closet. After a few minutes, Jim whispered, "Gee, it's dark. I'm afraid. Ain't you?" "I sure am. I wonder if there's ghosts in this closet! Oh! I wish Ma was here." Jim began to cry. "Oh, I wish I was home. I'll never come here again as long as I live." "Don't cry, Jim," comforted Bill, who was almost crying himself. "Lizzie'll let us out in a few minutes." "Lizzie, oh, Lizzie! Please let us out. I won't tell Ma on you if you'll let us out," pleaded Bill. There came no sound from outside the door, so Bill shouted louder. Still there came no sound. He kicked the door several times and shouted again, but no one came. "Say, Jim," Bill said suddenly, "let's kick the old door down or bust it or something." "All right," sobbed Jim, "anything to get out of here." So the two boys began to kick the door. They kicked and kicked until both were exhausted and Jim sat down in dismay. "I'll kick it once more, and if the darn thing won't come open, I'll quit too," cried Bill. He drew his foot behind him, and then sent it against the door, and as he did so, it opened. The two boys looked at each other in amazement. "Let's get out of this room before the door shuts again," suggested Bill. So the boys went out of the closet into the room in which was a wire dress form on wheels, a sewing machine, two chairs, and a trunk. "I feel like paying back that old Lizzie, don't you?" asked Bill. They were silent for a few minutes and then Bill broke out, "I know! Niggers are scared to death of ghosts, so let's dress this here wire woman up and scare her like we was." "All right," agreed Jim. They hunted around and in the trunk they found a white sheet. This they hung on the dress form, and then lugged it 9