urst into the house. The mother was too much
occupied about her daughter to notice the lad's condition; but the
doctor's sharp eyes saw that something was amiss, and he at once
inquired what it was. Bill hammered and stammered, and stopped short.
The doctor was such a tall, stout, comfortable-looking man, he looked
as if he couldn't believe in ghosts. A slight frown, however, had come
over his comfortable face, and he laid two fingers on Bill's wrist as
he repeated his question.

"Please, sir," said Bill, "I've seen--"

"A mad dog?" suggested the doctor.

"No, sir."

"A mad bull?"

"No, sir," said Bill, desperately, "I've seen a ghost."

The doctor exploded into a fit of laughter, and looked more
comfortable than ever.

"And _where_ did we see the ghost?" he inquired, in a professional
voice, as he took up his coat-tails and warmed himself at the fire.

"In Yew-lane, sir; and I'm sure I did see it," said Bill, half
crying; "it was all in white, and beckoned me."

"That's to say you saw a white gravestone, or a tree in the moonlight,
or one of your classmates dressed up in a table-cloth. It was all
moonshine, depend upon it," said the doctor, with a chuckle at his own
joke; "take my advice, my boy, and don't give way to foolish fancies."

At this point the mother spoke--

"If his father knew, sir, as he'd got any such fads in his head, he'd
soon flog 'em out of him."

"His father is a very good one," said the doctor; "a little too fond
of the stick, perhaps. There," he added, good-naturedly, slipping
sixpence into Bill's hand, "get a new knife, my boy, and cut a good
thick stick, and the next ghost you meet, lay hold of him and let him
taste it."

Bill tried to thank him, but somehow his voice was choked, and the
doctor turned to his mother.

"The boy has been frightened," he said, "and is upset. Give him some
supper, and put him to bed." And the good gentleman departed.

Bill was duly feasted and sent to rest. His mother did not mention the
matter to her husband, as she knew he would be angry; and occupied
with real anxiety for her daughter, she soon forgot it herself.
Consequently, the next night-school night she sent Bill to "clean
himself," hurried on his tea, and packed him off, just as if nothing
had happened.

The boy's feelings since the night of the apparition had not been
enviable. He could neither eat nor sleep. As he lay in bed at night,
he kept his face covered with the clothes, dreadin