Floyd's Flowers Or Duty and Beauty For Colored Children Being One Hundred Short Stories Gleaned from the Storehouse of Human Knowledge and Experience Simple Amusing Elevating — A Ghost Story
The years have been many since then.
The little teacher has long since passed to her rest, but David Oliver is a living monument to the power of a few searching words, the potency of a little personal interest and kindliness manifested at a critical time.
XXXVIII. A GHOST STORY.
Uncle Mose, an old-time colored man, once said in a company of people who were talking about ghosts that he wasn’t afraid of any ghost that ever walked the earth.
“No, sah; not me,” he said; “I’se got my fuss time to be skeered uv anyt’ing dat’s dead.
” Whereupon Noah Johnson told Uncle Mose that he would bet him a load of watermelons that he couldn’t spend one night in the “Widder Smith’s house.
” Now, the Widow Smith’s house was said to be haunted, or, in other words, it was filled with ghosts.
“Des name de night,” said Uncle Mose.
“I’ll stay dar; no ha’nts won’t bodder wid me.
No, sah; no ha’nts won’t bodder wid me, an’ yo’ watermillions is des ez good ez gone already!
” The details were arranged; judges were appointed; and Uncle Mose was to stay in the haunted house that very night.
He got him some pine-knots to keep a good blaze in the old-fashioned fireplace, carried along an extra plug of tobacco, secured a large dry-goods box to be used for a chair, and then he set out for the house.
[Illustration: “HUH!
HUH!
THERE DON’T SEEM TO BE BUT TWO OF US HERE
TO-NIGHT.
”] He made a blaze and seated himself on the pine box.
For a time he sung a number of old plantation songs for his own amusement, as well as to keep him company.
About midnight, feeling somewhat drowsy, Uncle Mose got up, took a light and went on a tour of inspection.
He examined every room in the house.
His search revealed nothing unusual.
He wound up his search chuckling to himself: “I sho is makin’ dis load uv watermillions easy.
Noah Johnsing didn’t know who he’s foolin’ wid.
I’m a man myse’f; I ain’t afeared uv nothin’—I ain’t!
” Down he sat on the box, and pretty soon he was dozing.
It was not very long before he suddenly awoke.
He was at once seized with strange and sudden fear.
He was too frightened to move.
Although he did not look around, he was conscious that there was another presence in the room.
His hair stood on ends.
He felt a cold chill run up and down his back.
By that time he knew that the object in the room, whatever it was, was moving towards him.
Still he did not move, because he could not.
The ghost (for that was what all the people said it was) stood over Uncle Mose for a little while, and then quietly sat down on the box beside him.
Uncle Mose looked straight into the fireplace, but his heart was beating like a runaway horse.
The silence in the room at that moment was like unto the silence of death.
Everything was still and solemn.
Uncle Mose could almost hear his own heart beating.
The ghost finally broke the silence by saying, with a loud sigh: “Huh!
Huh!
There don’t seem to be but two of us here to-night!
” It was then that Uncle Mose looked around for the first time.
As he did so he exclaimed: “Yas; an’ f’um dis out dah won’t be but one!
” And with that he jumped through the window, taking a part of the sash with him.
The judges had been waiting in the open air near the house, so as to watch the proceedings.
They called to the fleeing Uncle Mose, as he passed them, and ordered him to stop.
They said that they were all there and would protect him.
But Uncle Mose, as he kept on running, hallooed back: “I’ll see y’all later!
” He ran at the top of his speed for more than a mile, for he was well nigh scared to death.
By-and-by, from sheer exhaustion, he was compelled to stop for a little rest.
He was wet with perspiration from head to foot, and his clothes were as limp as a wet dishrag.
But the poor old man had no sooner seated himself on a stone by the roadside than up jumps the ghost and sits down beside him once more.
“Huh!
” said the ghost.
“You seem to have made pretty good time to-night.
” “Yas,” said Uncle Mose; “but what I hase done ain’t nothin’ to what I’se gwinter do!
” And up he jumped and lit out once more.
He had not gone far on his second trip before an old rabbit ran out of the bushes and took out down the road ahead of him.
Uncle Mose hallooed at the rabbit and said: “Git out uv de way, rabbit, an’ let somebody run what kin run!
” On and on the poor old man, almost scared to death, ran and ran.
Perhaps he would have been running until now but for a very unfortunate accident.
About five miles from the Widow Smith’s house he came in contact with the limb of a weeping willow tree that hung across the road.
The poor old fellow, already tired out, was knocked speechless and senseless.
Toward the break of day the judges, who had followed him, found him lying on the ground doubled up near the tree.
Dim
consciousness was slowly returning when they picked him up.
They rubbed him, and walked him around for a little while, and soon he was able to move himself.
The first thing Uncle Mose said was: “Tell Noah not to min’ ’bout dem watermillions.
I stayed in dat house des ez long ez I could keep my conscience quiet.
My ole mammy allus tole me dat hit wuz a sin an’ a shame to bet, an’ now I b’lieves hit!
” And to this day, boys and girls, if you want to see a really mad man, you just ask Uncle Mose if he ever saw a ghost.
