“Give me a piece of squash pie!”

I remarked to Miss Fellows that I supposed this to be a modern and improved version of the ancient drop of water which was to cool the tongue of Dives.  She replied that it was the work of a mischievous spirit who had nothing better to do; they would not infrequently take in that way the reply from the lips of another.  I am not sure whether we are to have lips in the spiritual world, but I think that was her expression.

Through all the nonsense and confusion of these daily messages, however, one restless, indefinite purpose ran; a struggle for expression that we could not grasp; a sense of something unperformed which was tormenting somebody.

One week we had been so much more than usually annoyed by the dancing of tables, shaking of doors, and breaking of crockery, that I lost all patience, and at length vehemently dared our unseen tormentors to show themselves.

“Who and what are you?” I cried, “destroying the peace of my family in this unendurable fashion.  If you are mortal man, I will meet you as mortal man.  Whatever you are, in the name of all fairness, let me see you!”

“If you see me it will be death to you,” tapped the Invisible.

“Then let it be death to me!  Come on!  When shall I have the pleasure of an interview?”

“To-morrow night at six o’clock.”

“To-morrow at six, then, be it.”

And to-morrow at six it was.  Allis had a headache, and was lying down upstairs.  Miss Fellows and I were with her, busy with cologne and tea, and one thing and another.  I had, in fact, forgotten all about my superhuman appointment, when, just as the clock struck six, a low cry from Miss Fellows arrested my attention.

“I see it!” she said.

“See what?”

“A tall man wrapped in a sheet.”

“Your eyes are the only ones so favored, it happens,” I said, with a superior smile.  But while I spoke Allis started from the pillows with a look of fear.

“I see it, Fred!” she exclaimed, under her breath.

“Women’s imagination!” for I saw nothing.

I saw nothing for a moment; then I must depose and say that I did see a tall figure, covered from head to foot with a sheet, standing still in the middle of the room.  I sprang upon it with raised arm; my wife states that I was within a foot of it when the sheet dropped.  It dropped at my feet,—­nothing but a sheet.  I picked it up and shook it; only a sheet.

“It is one of those old linen ones of grandmother’s,” said Allis, examining it; “there are only six, marked in pink with the boar’s-head in the corner.  It came from the blue chest up garret.  They have not been taken out for years.”

I took the sheet back to the blue chest myself,—­having first observed the number, as I had done before with the underclothes; and locked it in.  I came back to my room and sat down by Allis.  In about three minutes we saw the figure standing still as before, in the middle of the room.  As before, I sprang at it, and as before the drapery dropped, and there was nothing there.  I picked up the sheet and turned to the numbered corner.  It was the same that I had locked into the blue chest.