avoids the "ghoul-haunted" precincts with which his
neighborhood abounds, and trembles when he recites the deeds of valor
performed by some warlike example against fleshly hosts, yet when he has
taken his distance, and duly calculated the chances in his favor, he
delights, above all things, to gather about himself the philosophic
weaklings of his race, and, having launched upon his theme, observe the
absolute failure of the kink in the woolly crown of each as a thing to be
depended on in time of emergency.

The ideal "Uncle Tom's Cabin" had very little of the ghost element in its
construction. In this respect, as in some others, it was a miserable
failure. The real structure was a ghost's palace, where they came and went
at pleasure, and not unfrequently took up their abode. To this habitation,
in _ante bellum_ times, presided over by Uncle Dick or Aunt Rachel, it
mattered little--for both were magicians of no mean order--the juveniles
of both races flocked after nightfall for supplies of ghost-lore; and to
say that they were accommodated will but faintly describe, we fear, that
anguished state of soul (what Southern boy or man does not drop a tear on
this reminiscence?) with which, a few hours later, they passed out into
the darkness and fought their way through legions of shadowy foes to their
"curtained rest."

These ghost stories, which always resulted disastrously for flesh and
blood, and had a churchyard twang about them that came with peculiar
relish to the youngster under a strong glare of candle- or fire light,
were the very apple-pie of farm-life to the "infantile sex," despite the
after-piece, which, after all, was a contingency that might be disposed of
at will by the philanthropic source of the mischief. How often have we
observed a circle of these young professors of the spiritual science
defiantly "lean back" in their proclivities when the crooning narration
began, and the great fireplace sent out effulgent rays, suddenly alter
their manner for one of marked deference as the ghost-character came on
with stately tread and took its place in the forefront of thrilling
reminiscence; and then, as the rays of firelight went to sleep with the
embers one by one, hitch up their seats within the margin that remained,
getting nearer by degrees, until at length, as the story grew towards its
denouement and the fire hung over its ashy tomb, crowding from all
quarters, they threatened to overturn the narrator--so grea