the grave
of his first wife "something kind o' big and white-like, with great
big eyes like fire, raised up from behind the headboard, and kind o'
re'ched out for him"; and how he turned and fled, "with that air white
thing after him as tight as it could jump, and a hollerin'
'wough-yough-yough!' till you could hear it furder'n you could a
bullgine," and how, at last, just as the brave and daring intruder was
clearing two graves and the fence at one despairing leap, the "white
thing," had made a grab at him with its iron claws, and had nicked him
so close his second wife was occasioned the onerous duty of affixing
another patch in his pantaloons. And in conclusion, our hired girl
went on to state that this blood-curdling incident had so wrought upon
the feelings of "the man that wasn't afeard o' nothin'," and had given
him such a distaste for that particular graveyard, that he never
visited it again, and even entered a clause in his will to the effect
that he would ever remain an unhappy corpse should his remains be
interred in said graveyard.

I forgot my pop-corn that night; I forgot my taffy; I forgot all
earthly things; and I tossed about so feverishly in my little bed, and
withal so restlessly, that more than once my father's admonition above
the footboard of the big bed, of "Drat you! go to sleep, there!"
foreshadowed my impending doom. And once he leaned over and made a
vicious snatch at me, and holding me out at arm's length by one leg,
demanded in thunder-tones, "what in the name o' flames and flashes I
meant, anyhow!"

I was afraid to stir a muscle from that on, in consequence of which I
at length straggled off in fitful dreams--and heavens! what dreams!--A
very long and lank, and slim and slender old woman in white knocked at
the door of my vision, and I let her in. She patted me on the
head--and oh! how cold her hands were! And they were very hard hands,
too, and very heavy--and, horror of horrors!--they were not
hands--they were claws!--they were iron!--they were like the things I
had seen the hardware man yank nails out of a keg with. I quailed and
shivered till the long and slim and slender old woman jerked my head
up and snarled spitefully, "What's the matter with you, bub," and I
said, "Nawthin'!" and she said, "Don't you dare to lie to me!" I
moaned.

"Don't you like me?" she asked.

I hesitated.

"And lie if you dare!" she said--"Don't you like me?"

"Oomh-oomh!" said I.

"Why?" said she.