THE PARLOR-CAR GHOST.
All draped with blue denim—the seaside cottage of my friend, Sara Pyne. She asked me…
THE OLD MANSION.
Down on Long Beach, that narrow strip of sand which stretches along the New Jersey…
THE GHOSTS OF RED CREEK.
To the northward of Mississippi City and its neighbor, Handsboro, there extends a tract of…
THE GHOST OF WASHINGTON.
It was early on Christmas morning when John Reilly wheeled away from a picturesque little…
THE GHOST OF THE COUNT.
Not far from the Alameda, in the City of Mexico, there is a great old…
THE GHOST OF A LIVE MAN.
We were in the South Atlantic Ocean, in the latitude of the island of Fernando…
THE FLAYED HAND.
One evening about eight months ago I met with some college comrades at the lodgings…
SANDY’S GHOST.
“‘Commerdations fer the night, stranger? Waal, yes; I reckon we can fix a place fer…
MRS. DAVENPORT’S GHOST.
Dear readers, do you agree with Hamlet? Do you believe that there is more between…
HOW HE CAUGHT THE GHOST.
“Yes, the house is a good one,” said the agent; “it’s in a good neighborhood,…