This seemed to be a thrilling theme, such as Hawthorne would have been able to weave into the weirdest of weird tales, and I said, “Go on.”

“Well, he used to go playing cards about three miles from his home with a lot of young men, for his mother wouldn’t have cards played in her house, and she thought it was wicked, and begged him not to play.  It’s a habit with the young men of Ireland—­don’t know as it’s the same in other countries—­and they play for a goose or a chicken.  They go to some vacant house to get away from their fathers, they’re so against it at home.  Why, my brother-in-law used to go often to such a house on the side of a country road.  Each man would in turn provide the candles to play by, and as this house was said to be haunted, bedad they had it all to themselves.  Well, this last night that ever they played there—­it was Tom’s own brother that told me this—­just as they were going to deal the cards, a tall gentleman came out from a room that had been the kitchen.  He walked right up to them—­he was dressed in black cloth clothes, and wore a high black hat—­and came right between two of the men and told them to deal out the cards.  They were too frightened even to speak, so the stranger took the cards himself and dealt around to each man.  And afterward he played with them; then he looked at every man in turn and walked out of the room.  As soon as he cleared out of the place, the men all went away as quick as ever they could, and didn’t stop to put out the lights.  Each man cleared with himself and never stopped to look behind.  And no one cared to play cards in that house afterward any more.  That was Tom’s own brother; and now the poor young man who was going home at midnight saw a light in one of the houses by the road, so he turned toward it, thinking to light his pipe.  Just before knocking, he looked in at the window.  As soon as he peeped in the light went out on him, and still he could see crowds of people, as thick as grass, just as you see ’em at a fair—­so thick they hadn’t room to stand—­and they kept swaying back and forth, courtesying like.  The kitchen was full, and looking through a door he saw a lot more of fine ladies and gentlemen; they were laughing and having great fun, running round the table setting out cups and saucers, just as if they were having a ball.  Just then a big side-board fell over with a great crash, and all the fine people scampered away, and all was dark.  So he turned away on his heel and was so frightened, his mother said, he could hardly get home from fear, and he had three whole miles to go.  Next day he was thrashing corn in the barn and something upset him and pitched him head foremost across the flail.  He rose, and three times he was pitched like that across the flail, so he gave up and went home.  His mother asked him:  ‘Johnny, what is the matter with you?  You do look very bad!’ So he up and told her what had happened to him in the barn, and what he saw the night before.  And he took suddenly sick and had