training
influence on the gaiety of the Sinners. And yet without such presence
there was a subtle influence pervading the strange scene, that forbade
any approach to boisterousness. Out in the main body of the deserted
store all was dark and still. The curtains of the show-windows were
drawn down, shutting out the intrusive light of the street-lamps.
Field's guests--for we all, even George Millard, acknowledged him as
host and high priest of the evening--were assembled in the corner
devoted to old books and prints. The congregation, as he styled the
meeting, was seated on such chairs, stools, and boxes as the place
could afford. The darkness was made visible by a few sickly gas-jets
and some half dozen candles in appropriate black glass candlesticks
that looked suspiciously like bottles. Field was as busy as a shuttle
in a sewing-machine. He announced that Elder Melville E. Stone would
"preside over the meetin' and line out the hymns," which Mr. Stone,
though no singer, proceeded to do, calling on the mendacious Sinners
for brief confessions of their manifold transgressions during the dying
year. The tide of experiences was at its height when, on the first
stroke of midnight, every light was doused. So suddenly and
unexpectedly did darkness swallow us from each other's ken that there
was a gasp, and then for a moment a hushed silence. Before this was
broken by any other sound out from the impenetrable gloom came a deep
sepulchral voice, chanting:

_"From Canaan's beatific coast
I've come to visit thee,
For I am Frognall Dibdin's ghost,"
Says Dibdin's ghost to me.

I bade him welcome, and we twain
Discussed with buoyant hearts
The various things that appertain
To bibliomaniac arts.
"Since you are fresh from t'other side,
Pray, tell me of that host
That treasured books before they died,"
Says I to Dibdin's ghost.

"They've entered into perfect rest:
For in the life they've won,
There are no auctions to molest,
No creditors to dun.

"Their heavenly rapture has no bounds
Beside that jasper sea;
It is a joy unknown to Lowndes,"
Says Dibdin's ghost to me._

You could have heard the proverbial pin drop as Field's organ-like
voice, which all quickly recognized, rolled out the now familiar lines
of "Dibdin's Ghost," then heard for the first time by everyone in that
historic Corner. No point was missed in that weird recitation. I shall
never forget the gra