IV. And struck by a faded 'Varsity Blue V. While pondering over their future fate While Dizzy ever on the alert Was playing the leading fiddle, And Whiteside game for the quickest spurt VI. At length they too disappeared from view All doing their darn'dest in pace and putt, VII. And Gladstone still kept putting it on, And hard upon Grassy "the late Lord John," And Dizzy was creeping up fast behind, With Whiteside the strong and strapping, Resolved that the coxswain in front should find A lift a shoot as swift as the wind- VIII. But somehow (perhaps the claret-cup The Dreamer forgets if Pam's hand went up, And looking uncommonly yellow, And how his friends said, as they passed him by, "You must have been cut old fellow." A GHOST STORY. (Continued from page 204.) I FEEL that some apology is due to my readers for the somewhat abrupt termination of the first part of my story, in the last Number of The Eagle. The only excuse I can make for myself, is that the recollection of the horrors which I was describing so upset my nerves that I was unable at the time to go on with my narrative. After this brief explanation let me now resume my story. Suddenly there stood between me and the moon's light a tall dark figure. Its face was turned from me, and toward the window; and at times the right arm was raised in an excited and threatening manner, and its fist was shaken angrily at some invisible object: again the same arm was tossed wildly on high; the feet stamped on the floor so as to shake the room, and as I lay cowering and trembling in my bed, I thought I could hear the creature gnashing its teeth, and muttered imprecations coming from its lips. All this must have gone on for several minutes, though each minute seemed to be as long as an hour, when at length summoning all my resolution I half raised myself in bed, intending to slip quietly out by the door before my nocturnal visitor should detect my presence. In an instant the wild, agitated movements of the apparition seemed to cease. Slowly it turned round till it stood facing me at the foot of the bed, its face staring into mine with only a few feet between us. No words that I can find will ever describe the effect produced upon me by the sight which my eyes encountered. The process of petrifaction is, I believe, a process to which few or none of my readers have ever been subjected, still they may be able to understand my state at the time, when I inform them that the sight which met my eyes actually petrified me, and had I continued to look at it for a few minutes more I should have become as fine a fossil as ever gladdened the heart and the hammer of a Professor of Geology. Fortunately, ere fear had entirely fossilized me, I fainted, and remained unconscious of everything till I awoke and found the sun shining brightly into my room at five o'clock in the morning. The birds were singing blithely, and nowhere was the slightest trace of the unearthly disturber of my night's rest visible. But on trying to rise I found my limbs refused to support me, and sinking back in an exhausted state I soon fell into a deep sleep. I must have been asleep some time, when I became aware of the presence of some one in the room. I lay in a dreamy half-conscious state, but still I felt almost certain some one was leaning over me, and all doubt on the subject was removed, when I heard some one say in a tremulous whisper, "Good heavens! she is dead, and I have killed her." I opened my eyes, and my visitor quickly retreated, not however, before I recognized, or thought I recognized, the neat quakerish dress and the elegant figure of Agatha Snow. My surprise was therefore great, when within a few minutes, that young lady re-appeared, having previously knocked at the door, and wished me "good morning" in the most natural manner possible. Never did the pearly teeth smile more beautifully than they did then, as she hurried about the room, telling me what a shame it was for me to have over-slept myself on so lovely a morning, and that I must dress myself quickly as they had begun breakfast without me. A horrid suspicion that she was directly or indirectly the cause of the fearful night which I had passed, was rising in my mind, and I found it impossible to make any answer to all her civil speeches. Suddenly she gave a half-scream, and looking me in the face cried, "Mademoiselle you are ill! I must fetch madame, I must fetch the doctor!" and she rushed out of the room much to my relief, for I must confess that her presence had anything but a soothing effect upon my nerves, weakened as they were by the events of the past night. But I must not delay too long the conclusion of my story. Know then, O reader, that though I suffered from trembling nerves for a day or two, yet thanks to a good constitution, neither did my hair turn white, nor did I lose the use of my limbs, nor feel any other of the sufferings which all orthodox ghost-seers experience. I had been afraid that my aunt's opinion of my courage and firmness would have fallen very low after the sorry figure which I had made. To my surprise however the account of the night I had passed seemed to make a deep impression on her; the only part of my story to which she gave no attention, was the part which related to Agatha Snow, which she dismissed at once as absurd. In fact she almost laughed me out of my suspicions, and made me believe that the apparition of Agatha by my bed-side was the result of the excited state of my nerves, and had only existed in my imagination. The conduct of Agatha herself towards me almost made me ashamed of having suspected her, she insisted on sitting up with me for several nights, and proved so kind and gentle a nurse, that in spite of myself, I began almost to love her, and to wish, for her sake, that all the mystery might be cleared up. Before the arrival of our guests I had several conferences with my aunt, in which we deliberated how we were to proceed in order to find out who the ghost was. My aunt had ordered me not to communicate what I had seen to any one but herself. During one of our conferences, after I had described to her as well as I was able the exact appearance of the object of our consultation, she suddenly rose, went to a picture which was on the wall, and removing a curtain which covered it, asked me to look at it carefully. At first it seemed to me that I saw nothing but the portrait of a dark, handsome, though somewhat melancholy young man, whose face I had never seen before. But on holding a light close to the picture I could scarcely suppress a scream. In the peculiar fashion of the dress, in the beard and moustache, the empty sleeve of the coat shewing that the young man had lost an arm, in all these details I recognized the figure which had stood by my bed-side but two nights before. "Hester," said my aunt, "this is the portrait of my late husband. I cannot now relate to you the dreadful story which ere long I will communicate to you. It will be enough for me to say that I believe some one has been acting the part of his ghost, and that some one must have an object, of which we are ignorant, in making us all believe the room to be haunted." We agreed to keep a sharp look-out, and to observe every one in the house, I for my part determining that Agatha Snow should be kept under strict "surveillance." My aunt also told me that she intended to put one of our guests into the haunted room, hoping that we might in this way arrive at a solution of the mystery. The important day arrived and brought with it all our guests with one ex |