Where occasion requires allusion to myself, I shall simply say the
author.

At seven o'clock on the morning of June 21st, 1879, as the sun was
shining brightly, and the cool breeze was blowing from the bay, the
author entered the haunted house. After placing his umbrella in a corner
of the dining room, and his satchel on the table, he seated himself in
one of the easy chairs to await results. Esther and Olive were present.
He had been in the room about five minutes when, to his great
astonishment, his umbrella was thrown a distance of fifteen feet, going
over his head in its flight. At the same instant a large carving knife
came jumping over the girl's head, and fell near him. Not at all pleased
with this kind of a reception on the part of the ghosts, he left the
room and went into the parlor, taking his satchel with him, and there
sat down paralyzed with wonder and astonishment. He had been seated only
a moment when his satchel was thrown a distance of ten feet. At the same
instant a large chair came flying across the room striking the one on
which he was seated, nearly knocking it from under him. It suddenly
occurred to him that he would take a walk, during which he could admire
the beauties of the village.

On his return to the cottage, the ghosts commenced their deviltry again
with redoubled violence. He had no sooner entered the house than all the
chairs in the parlor--and there were seven by actual count--fell over.
Concluding not to remain in that room, he went to the dining room, when
the chairs in that, his favorite room in every house, went through the
same performance. Feeling hungry, not yet having had his breakfast, he
sat down to a good substantial meal, Esther sitting directly opposite.
After pouring out his coffee, she handed it to him with the remark, "Oh,
you will soon get used to them; I don't think they like you." "No," he