? A sperrit in this yer 'spectable,
'sponsible house? Lookee here, nigger: mind what you say now, or it'll
be the wus for you! A sperrit in this yer ginteel family as never had a
crime or a ghost inter it! The Cavendishers nebber 'mits no crimes when
der living, nor likewise don't walk about ondecent after der dead. And
der a'n't no sperrits here," said Jerome, with ire.

"Oh, I wish it wasn't--I wish it wasn't! But it was a sperrit! And it's
a token of my death--it's a token of my death!" howled Taters.

And now at last the noise brought the three young ladies out of the
drawing-room.

"What is the matter here, Jerome?" inquired Mrs. Cavendish. "Has any one
got hurt? Who is that man?"

"Ef you please, Miss Emma, no one a'n't got hurt, though you might a
thought, from the squalling, that there was a dozen pigs a killin'. And
that man, miss, is a born iddiwut, so he is--begging your pardon,
miss!--and says he's seed a sperrit in this yer harristocraterick house,
where there never was a sperrit yet," explained Jerome, with a grieved
and indignant look.

"But who is the man? What is he doing here? And what does he want?"
inquired the young lady.

"The man is a born iddiwut, Miss Emma, as I telled you before; that's
who the man he is! And he's a making of a 'fernal fool of hisself;
that's what he's doing here! And he deserves a good hiding; and that's
what he wants!" said Jerome, irately.

Miss Cavendish passed by the privileged old family servant, and went up
to the man himself and inquired:

"Who are you, boy? What brings you here? And what ails you?"

"Oh, miss! I'm Taters, I am. And I come to fetch a letter from Marse
Jacky Lytton to Miss Lorrer. And I seen a sperrit at the top o'them
stair steps. And that's what's the matter of me," cried the boy.

"A spirit! Jerome, do you think he's been drinking?" inquired the young
lady in a low, frightened voice.

For an answer Jerome, without the least hesitation, seized Taters by the
head, pulled open his jaws, and stuck his own nose into the cavity and
took an audible snuff. Then, releasing the head, he answered:

"No, miss, he a'n't been drinking nuffin. His breff's as sweet as a
milch cow's. I reckon he must be subjick to epperliptic fits, miss, by
the way he fell down here all of a suddint, crying out as he'd seen a
sperrit."

"You said you had a letter, boy. Where is it?" inquired Emma.

"Here, miss! Here it is! I'll give it to you, though I wouldn't give i