hair
rising on his niddick and the sweat running down his face; but he kept his
nerve pretty clever and crept away and ran for all his might to the
village and went to see Parson. They believed more in those days than what
they do now, and Parson, whatever he may have thought, knew young Knowles
for a truth-teller and obeyed his petition to come at once. But the good
man stopped in the churchyard and gathered up a handful of sacred ground;
and then he went along to the dead weaver's house.

"Sure enough the loom was a-working busy as ever; but it couldn't drown
Parson's voice, for he preached from one of they old three-decker pulpits,
like a ship o' war, and his noise, when the holy man was in full blast,
would rise over a thunderstorm.

"'Knowles! Knowles!' he cried out; 'Come down this instant. This is no
place for you!'

"And then, hollow as the wind in a winter hedge, the ghost made answer.

"'I will obey so soon as I have worked out my quill, your reverence,'
replied the spirit of Weaver Knowles, and Parson didn't raise no objection
to that, but bade the dead man's son kneel down; and he done so; and the
priest also knelt and lifted his voice in prayer for five minutes.

"Then the loom stopped and old Knowles came forth and glided downstairs;
and not a step creaked under him, for young Knowles specially noted that
wonder when he told my grandfather the adventure.

"At sight of Old Weaver, Parson took his churchyard dust and boldly threw
it in the face of the vision, and afore you could cross your heart the
shadow had turned into a gert black dog--so dark as night. The poor beast
whimpered and yowled something cruel, but Parson was short and stern with
it, well knowing you can't have half measures with spirits, no more than
you can with living men if you will to conquer 'em. So he takes a high
line with the weaver, as one to be obeyed.

"'Follow me, Knowles,' he said to the creature. 'Follow me in the name of
the Father, Son, and Ghost'; which the forlorn dog did do willy-nilly; and
he led it down the Burn, to Hound's Pool, and there bade it halt. Then the
man of God took a nutshell--just a filbert with a hole in it bored by a
squirrel--and he gave it boldly into the dog's mouth.

"'Henceforth,' he said, 'you shall labour here to empty the pool, using
nought but this nutshell to do so; and when you have done your work, but
no sooner, then you shall go back whence you came.'

"And the Hound will be on the jo