"O, I'm not at all afraid of such things," said Dotty quietly; "I've got
all over it. I know what ghosts are now; they are pumpkins."

"Excuse my smiling," said Horace, laughing uproariously.

"You may laugh, cousin Horace, but I've seen them. They have a candle
inside; and that's why my father brought me out West, because the doctor
said it frightened me so. Why, they had to pour water over me and drown
me almost to death, or I'd have died!"

"I wonder!"

"Yes, 'twas Johnny Eastman; but his mamma gave me a beautiful little
tea-set, with _golder_ rims than the one that was burnt up; and Johnny
and Percy both felt dreadfully."

"Wanted the tea-set themselves--did they?"

"O, no; _they_ never play tea. That isn't why they feel dreadfully; it's
because, if they ever frighten me again, the Mayor'll have them put in
the _penitential_, and they know it."

"They were mean fellows; that's a fact," said Horace, with genuine
indignation. "I used to be full of mischief when I was small; but I
never frightened a little girl in my life; and no boy would do it that
thinks anything of himself."

Dotty looked up admiringly at the youth of twelve years, liking him all
the better for his chivalry, as any of you little girls would have done.