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AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG.

"Sights of 'em; but it aint allers the old places as has the most stories concernin' 'em. Why, that cottage down yonder aint more 'n fifty year old, and they say there's been a lot of ghosts seen there, owin' to a man's killin' of himself in the back bedroom."

"What, that house at the end of the lane?" I asked, with sudden interest.

"Jes' so; nice place, but lonesome and dampish. Ghosts and toadstools is apt to locate in houses of that sort," placidly responded the venerable tar.

The dampness scared me more than the goblins, for I never saw a ghost yet, but I had been haunted by rheumatism, and found it a hard fiend to exorcise.

"I've taken a room there, so I'm rather interested in knowing what company I'm to have."

"Took a room, hev you? Wal, I dare say you won't be troubled. Some folks have a knack of seeing sperrits, and then agin some hasn't. My wife is uncommon powerful that way, but I aint; my sight's dreadful poor for that sort of critter."

There was such a sly twinkle in the starboard eye