all such festivities, where he could be found in a corner by
himself, out of the way, his head cocked to one side, eyes gazing up at
the ceiling, and an idiotic smile on his face, fiddling as if his life
depended on it. If the dancers had been as tireless as Simon, they would
never have stopped to rest, for he ran on from one tune to another
without the slightest intermission; indeed, the only times he paused at
all would come right in the middle of the piece, and the dancers would
wait, stranded in the center of the floor, while he raised the mug of
ale which always stood well filled at his elbow; for they never allowed
him to go thirsty. This eccentricity they overlooked, because Simon was
himself so obliging.

"One night in the inn-parlor, three gossips, heads together and elbows
on the table, were discussing the haunted house. Simon joined them,
scoffing as usual.

"'I tell you what I'll do,' said one. 'You sleep the night there, this
coming New Year's Eve, and I'll buy you a keg of the best ale in this
cellar!'

"Simon could only gasp at this proposal; but the magnificence of the
reward was too much for him. 'Done!' he cried; and without considering
the consequences, agreed to pass a night among the ghosts. The only
requirement was that he should go to the house before midnight, and
remain there until sunrise.

"The weeks passed, and the wager was apparently forgotten; at least,
Simon hoped that it was, for he had repented his rashness. But it was
not forgotten; when the time drew near, he was reminded of it, and
became more apprehensive. Were those stories true? He doubted. Only at
night, as he lay in bed sleepless, he felt a peculiar sinking sensation
within him. It was noticed that he became pale and worn, was quieter
than usual, and played more out of tune; and he even seemed to be
losing his appetite for pies.

"But none of these things let him off; and when the fateful evening
came, Simon, with his beloved fiddle tucked beneath his arm for
companionship, and a lantern, appeared at the inn. They wished him good
luck and pleasant dreams, doubting nevertheless that he would have
either; and the landlord, a kindly soul, slipped a cold snack and a jug
of his best ale into his hand.

"Outside he paused to look back upon the cheery comfort of the
inn-parlor. Well, there was nothing now but to go ahead with it, he
reflected; and with a heavy heart, he turned his steps in the direction
of the haunted house.