one way and another."

He said that perhaps he ought not to be the one to say so, but that
really, speaking of ordinary middle-society, he thought there were
few ghosts who could look back upon a life of more sustained
usefulness.

He puffed away in silence for a few seconds, while I sat watching
him. I had never seen a ghost smoking a pipe before, that I could
remember, and it interested me.

I asked him what tobacco he used, and he replied, "The ghost of cut
cavendish, as a rule."

He explained that the ghost of all the tobacco that a man smoked in
life belonged to him when he became dead. He said he himself had
smoked a good deal of cut cavendish when he was alive, so that he
was well supplied with the ghost of it now.

I observed that it was a useful thing to know that, and I made up
my mind to smoke as much tobacco as ever I could before I died.

I thought I might as well start at once, so I said I would join him
in a pipe, and he said, "Do, old man"; and I reached over and got
out the necessary paraphernalia from my coat pocket and lit up.

We grew quite chummy after that, and he told me all his crimes. He
said he had lived next door once to a young lady who was learning
to play the guitar, while a gentleman who practised on the bass-
viol lived opposite. And he, with fiendish cunning, had introduced