AT THE CORNER OF LOVERS' LANE
opposite to them. "Ooh!" shuddered one of the fellows, rising to his feet, and then the others all got up too. He started up the lane at a dog-trot holding his body low, then the others ran after him, holding themselves in the same way. Fifty yards up the lane he stopped, then the others stopped. They looked around. It had passed by. They looked at the man who had told the story. He was shaking; he had nothing to say. The others said nothing. He mopped his brow, then several of the others mopped their brows. Then some one said: "Oh, come on, fellows," and started back toward the corner again, and the others followed after.
"How do you account for it?" this calmer man asked the one who had told the story.
"I am cold," was the reply. "Let's get away from here." There was no doubt about his terror.
"What would the others say?" was the rejoinder.
Then they remembered what they were there for and waited and waited for Fresh-
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