ld pass through me, without resistance, and expend its
force on the wood behind. I am a spirit." "And pray, what do you want
here?" faltered the tenant. "In this room," replied the apparition, "my
worldly ruin was worked, and I and my children beggared. In this press,
the papers in a long, long suit, which accumulated for years, were
deposited. In this room, when I had died of grief, and long-deferred
hope, two wily harpies divided the wealth for which I had contested
during a wretched existence, and of which, at last, not one farthing
was left for my unhappy descendants. I terrified them from the spot,
and since that day have prowled by night--the only period at which I can
revisit the earth--about the scenes of my long-protracted misery. This
apartment is mine: leave it to me." "If you insist upon making your
appearance here," said the tenant, who had had time to collect his
presence of mind during this prosy statement of the ghost's, "I shall
give up possession with the greatest pleasure; but I should like to ask
you one question, if you will allow me." "Say on," said the apparition
sternly. "Well," said the tenant, "I don't apply the observation
personally to you, because it is equally applicable to most of the
ghosts I ever heard of; but it does appear to me somewhat inconsistent,
that when you have an opportunity of visiting the fairest spots of
earth--for I suppose space is nothing to you--you should always return
exactly to the very places where you have been most miserable." "Egad,
that's very true; I never thought of that before," said the ghost. "You
see, Sir," pursued the tenant, "this is a very uncomfortable room. From
the appearance of that press, I should be disposed to say that it is
not wholly free from bugs; and I really think you might find much more
comfortable quarters: to say nothing of the climate of London, which
is extremely disagreeable." "You are very right, Sir," said the
ghost politely, "it never struck me till now; I'll try change of air
directly"--and, in fact, he began to vanish as he spoke; his legs,
indeed, had quite disappeared. "And if, Sir," said the tenant, calling
after him, "if you WOULD have the goodness to suggest to the other
ladies and gentlemen who are now engaged in haunting old empty houses,
that they might be much more comfortable elsewhere, you will confer a
very great benefit on society." "I will," replied the ghost; "we must be
dull fellows--very dull fellows, indeed; I c