That old man's hand was
the hand he saw. I know a room in an old house in England where
plucking off the bed-clothes goes on, every now and then, and has gone
on as long as the present occupants have been there. But I only heard
lately, and _they_ only heard from me, that the same thing used to
occur, in the same room and no other, in the last generation, when
another family lived there."
"Anybody see anything?"
"No, only footsteps are heard creeping up, before the twitches come
off."
"And what do the people do?"
"Nothing! We set a camera once to photograph the spook. He did not
sit."
"It's rum!" said the Beach-comber. "But mind you, as to spooks, I
don't believe a word of it." {299}
THE GHOST THAT BIT
The idiot Scotch laird in the story would not let the dentist put his
fingers into his mouth, "for I'm feared ye'll bite me". The following
anecdote proves that a ghost may entertain a better founded alarm on
this score. A correspondent of Notes and Queries (3rd Sept., 1864) is
responsible for the narrative, given "almost verbatim from the lips of
the lady herself," a person of tried veracity.
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