" And always she sighed and stroked back her
thin locks, sadly. "Oh, how I wish that some experience would happen
to _me_!"
One morning, after the gift of an exceptionally large tin of toffee,
William's noblest feelings were aroused. Manfully he decided that
something _should_ happen to her.
Cousin Mildred slept in the bedroom above William's. Descent from one
window to the other was easy, but ascent was difficult. That night
Cousin Mildred awoke suddenly as the clock struck twelve. There was no
moon, and only dimly did she discern the white figure that stood in
the light of the window. She sat up, quivering with eagerness. Her
short, thin little pigtail, stuck out horizontally from her head.
Her mouth was wide open.
[Illustration: SHE SAT UP, QUIVERING WITH EAGERNESS. HER SHORT, THIN
LITTLE PIGTAIL STUCK OUT HORIZONTALLY FROM HER HEAD. HER MOUTH WAS
WIDE OPEN.]
"Oh!" she gasped.
The white figure moved a step forward and coughed nervously.
Cousin Mildred clasped her hands.
"Speak!" she said, in a tense whisper. "Oh, speak! Some message! Some
revelation."
William was nonplussed. None of the ghosts he had read of had spoken.
They had rattled and groaned and beckoned, but they had not spoken. He
tried groaning and emitted a sound faintly reminiscent of a sea-sick
voyager.
"Oh, _speak_!" pleaded Cousin Mildred.
Evidently speech was a necessary part of this performance. William
wondered whether ghosts spoke English or a language of their own.
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