“But surely,” said Mr. Birchard, the young schoolmaster, who boarded with Mr. Dickey, “you don’t believe any such trash as that account of a haunted house in Boston?” There was a non-committal silence, and he went on impatiently, “I could give you a dozen instances in which mysteries of this kind, when they were energetically followed up, were proved to be the results of the most simple and natural causes.”

“Like enough, like enough, young man,” said Uncle Jabez Snyder, in his tremulous tones, “and mebbe some folks not a hunderd miles from here could tell you another dozen that hadn’t no natural causes.”

“I should like very much to hear them,” replied the young man, with an exasperatingly incredulous smile.

“If Pegram here wasn’t in such a durned hurry to turn us out and shet up,” said Mr. Dickey, with manifest irritation, “Uncle Jabez could tell you all you want to hear.”

Mr. Pegram looked disturbed.  It was with him a fixed principle never to disoblige a customer, and he saw that he was disobliging at least half a dozen.  On the other hand, he was not prepared to face his wife should he so daringly disregard her wishes as to keep the store open half an hour later than usual.  He pondered for a few moments, and then his face suddenly brightened, and he said, “If one of you gentlemen that passes my house on your way home would undertake to put coal on the fire, put the lights out, lock the door, and bring me the key, the store’s at your disposal till ten o’clock; and I’m only sorry I can’t stay myself.”

Two or three immediately volunteered, but as the schoolmaster and Mr. Dickey were the only ones whose way lay directly past Mr. Pegram’s door, it was decided that they should divide the labors and honors between them.

“I’d like you not to stop later than ten,” said Mr. Pegram deprecatingly, as he buttoned his great-coat and drew his hat down over his eyes, “for I have to be up so early, since that boy cleared out, that I need to go to bed sooner than I mostly do.”

Compliance with this modest request was readily promised, good-nights were exchanged, and the lessened circle drew in more closely around the stove, for several of the company had reluctantly decided that, all things considered, it would be the better part of valor for them to go when Mr. Pegram went.

There was a few minutes’ silence, and then Mr. Dickey said impatiently, “We’re all ready, Uncle Jabez.  Why don’t you fire away, so’s to be through by ten o’clock?”

“I was a-thinkin’ which one I’d best tell him,” said Uncle Jabez mildly.  “They’re all convincin’ to a mind that’s open to convincement, but I’d like to pick out the one that’s most so.”

“There’s the one about Alviry Pratt’s grandfather,” suggested Mr. Crumlish encouragingly.

“No,” mused the old man.  “I’ve no doubt of that myself, but then it didn’t happen to me in person, and I’ve a notion he’d rather hear one I’ve experienced than two I’ve heard tell of.”