Humorous Ghost Stories

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G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1921 - Ghost stories - 431 pages
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User Review  - wearylibrarian - LibraryThing

There are several stories are taken from magazines here. My favorites were "The Canterville Ghost" and "The Mummy's Foot." Most of the stories were written in the late 19th century or early 20th century. I didn't enjoy most of the other stories. Read full review

Contents

I
vii
II
3
III
51
IV
69
V
89
VI
109
VII
129
VIII
159
XII
229
XIII
247
XIV
275
XV
295
XVI
315
XVII
341
XVIII
385
XIX
403

IX
175
X
187
XI
205

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Page 342 - Is it the breeches ?" asked the valet, casting an inquiring eye round the apartment ; — " is it the breeches, sir ? " "Yes; what have you done with them ?" " Sure then your honour had them on when you went to bed, and it's hereabout they'll be, I'll be bail;" and Barney lifted a fashionable tunic from a cane-backed arm-chair, proceeding in his examination. But the search was vain : there was the tunic aforesaid, — there was a smart-looking kerseymere waistcoat ; but the most important article...
Page 375 - But the master?" said Barney, imploringly; "and without a breeches? — sure he'll be catching cowld !" "Take that, rascal!" replied Ingoldsby, throwing a pair of pantaloons at, rather than to, him: "but don't suppose, sir, you shall carry on your tricks here with impunity; recollect there is such a thing as a treadmill, and that my father is a county magistrate.
Page 362 - Absurd! Charles. How can you talk such nonsense?" "But, Caroline — the breeches are really gone." On the following morning, contrary to his usual custom, Seaforth was the first person in the breakfast parlor.
Page 373 - quoth the sufferer, adopting the vernacular of his visitant. " The master, sir " .. " Well, what does he want ? " " The loanst of a breeches, plase your honour.
Page 5 - Indeed, in many respects, she was quite English, and was an excellent example of the fact that we have really everything in common with America nowadays, except, of course, language.
Page 6 - Following her, they passed through the fine Tudor hall into the library, a long, low room, panelled in black oak, at the end of which was a large stainedglass window. Here they found tea laid out for them, and, after taking off their wraps, they sat down and began to look round, while Mrs.
Page 356 - ... shoulders. To souls so congenial what a sight was the magnificent ruin of Bolsover ! its broken arches, its mouldering pinnacles, and the airy tracery of its half-demolished windows. The party were in raptures ; Mr. Simpkinson began to meditate an essay, and his daughter an ode ; even Seaforth, as he gazed on these lonely relics of the olden time, was betrayed into a momentary forgetfulness of his love and losses : the widow's eye-glass turned from her cifisbeo's whiskers to the mantling ivy...
Page 22 - Perdition seize the naughty fowl,' he muttered, ' I have seen the day when, with my stout spear, I would have run him through the gorge, and made him crow for me an 'twere in death !' He then retired to a comfortable lead coffin, and stayed there till evening.
Page 202 - ... One silly tale he had that he kept on drifting back to, and to hear him you would have thought that it was the only thing that happened to him in his life. "We was at anchor," he would say, "off an island called the Basket of Flowers, and the sailors had caught a lot of parrots and we were teaching them to swear. Up and down the decks, up and down the decks, and the language they used was dreadful.
Page 363 - A serious, not to say anxious, expression was visible upon his good-humoured countenance, and his mouth was fast buttoning itself up for an incipient whistle, when little Flo, a tiny spaniel of the Blenheim breed, — the pet object of Miss Julia Simpkinson's affections, — bounced out from beneath a sofa, and began to bark at — his pantaloons. They were cleverly

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