t you is got a
monst'us heap ter l'arn yit, chile. Nobody ain' done tol' you 'bout de
Black Cat an' de Ha'nted House, is dey?"

"No, Uncle Peter--you tell me."

"I didn' knowed but Miss Grac'ella mought a tole you--she knows mos'
all de tales."

"No, she hasn't. You tell me about it, Uncle Peter."

"Well," said Peter, "does you 'member dat coal-black man dat drives de
lumber wagon?"

"Yes, he goes by our house every day, on the way to the sawmill."

"Well, it all happen' 'long er him. He 'uz gwine long de street one
day, w'en he heared two gent'emen--one of 'em was ole Mars' Tom
Sellers an' I fuhgot de yuther--but dey 'uz talkin' 'bout dat ole
ha'nted house down by de creek, 'bout a mile from hyuh, on de yuther
side er town, whar we went fishin' las' week. Does you 'member de
place?"

"Yes, I remember the house."

"Well, as dis yer Jeff--dat's de lumber-wagon driver's name--as dis
yer Jeff come up ter dese yer two gentlemen, one of 'em was sayin,
'I'll bet five dollahs dey ain' narry a man in his town would stay in
dat ha'nted house all night.' Dis yer Jeff, he up 'n sez, sezee,
'Scuse me, suh, but ef you'll 'low me ter speak, suh, I knows a man
wat'll stay in dat ole ha'nted house all night.'"

"What is a ha'nted house, Uncle Peter?" asked Phil.

"W'y. Law,' chile, a ha'nted house is a house whar dey's ha'nts!"

"And what are ha'nts, Uncle Peter?"

"Ha'nts, honey, is sperrits er dead folks, dat comes back an' hangs
roun' whar dey use' ter lib."

"Do all spirits come back, Uncle Peter?"

"No, chile, bress de Lawd, no. Only de bad ones, w'at has be'n so
wicked dey can't rest in dey graves. Folks lack yo' gran'daddy and yo'
gran'mammy--an' all de Frenches--dey don' none er _dem_ come back, fer
dey wuz all good people an' is all gone ter hebben. But I'm fergittin'
de tale.

"'Well, hoo's de man--hoo's de man?' ax Mistah Sellers, w'en Jeff tol'
'im dey wuz somebody wat 'ud stay in de ole ha'nted house all night.

"'I'm de man,' sez Jeff. 'I ain't skeered er no ha'nt dat evuh walked,
an' I sleeps in graveya'ds by pref'ence; fac', I jes nach'ly lacks ter
talk ter ha'nts. You pay me de five dollahs, an' I'll 'gree ter stay
in de ole house f'm nine er clock 'tel daybreak.'

"Dey talk' ter Jeff a w'ile, an' dey made a bahgin wid 'im; dey give
'im one dollah down, an' promus' 'im fo' mo' in de mawnin' ef he
stayed 'tel den.

"So w'en he got de dollah he went uptown an' spent it, an' 'long 'bout
nine er cl