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T h e ghost of the Patriot office, situated rearward of the n o w Union Club Hotel, Collins Street, was supposed to be the umbra of a compositor, first bullied and then discharged by the proprietor, J. P. Fawkner, w h e n he went on a " bust," overdrank himself, got turned over into the Yarra, and drowned. T o take it out of "Johnny" he watched his opportunity, penetrated to the limited premises when the m e n were away, and m a d e " pye" of everything within fingers' reach. T h e disordered type was often shown to Fawkner, w h o would get into terrible tantrums, and v o w vengeance on the dead m a n if ever he got hold of him. It occurred to m e that the " p y e " was the confectionery of living hands, for Fawkner's irritable temperament often thrust him into hot water, and m a d e him the frequent victim of unseemly practical jokes. T o all newspaper offices there is attached a subordinate ministering imp, designated the " Printer's Devil," and a diminutive specimen of this order of terrestrials was once connected with the Herald. H e was simply known as Charlie, and no one, not even himself, could tell his patronymic. H e was a wee street Arab, picked out of the gutter when such animals were scarce—a stray lamb rescued from destitution by Cavenagh, thefirstproprietor, and for his years was a smart, precocious, useful little fellow. O n e day he was killed by tumbling out of a baker's cart, wherein he was enjoying a free jaunt, and the sudden death of Charlie was regretted by all his confreres, old and young. There was in the office a very smart compositor, named Mullins, rather given to " swiping," both on and off duty, and soon after Charlie's disappearance, Mullins, on what were known as " pub nights," declared that the boy used to appear to him at frequent intervals. Mullins would start, v o w that the ghostling was right before him, grimacing and posturing, and then would rush to a neighbouring tavern, and absorbing there a counter-irritant, return refreshed, or, as he declared, all right for the time. T h e Herald office then comprised two detached cottages, situated near the Little Collins Street entrance to the Royal Arcade, and I had lately joined the establishment. O n e night I was up to m y eyes with proof reading in the small, but not uncomfortable, editor's crib, when Mullins staggered in for something I was correcting. Looking up at him I banteringly asked, " Well, Jem, have you seen the devil to-night ?" and I had no sooner done so than Mullins shook as if with terror, and pointing to the blazing wood fire in the corner, exclaimed, " Look, sir, there he is, perched on the uppermost burning log. Look'. look! h o w he thrusts out his tongue and grins like a cat. A h ! there, he's off now, and I hear him tramping about the place in every direction." Needless to say, I neither saw nor heard anything to alarm m e ; so I told the scared Mullins that the devil tramping was in reality the "D.T-ing" of certain spirituous influences peculiar to his system, and teetotally differing in flavour and smell from the graveyard emanations by which he seemed to be possessed. T h e manifestations continued whilst Mullins remained on the Herald, and when he left they evaporated with him, and the ghost of the so-much-talked-of poor little "printer's devil" was laid for evermore. But the most hideously grotesque ghost " yarn" spun in the olden time, sprung out of the first and second criminal executions witnessed in Melbourne in 1842. T h e first m e n hanged in the colony were two V a n Diemonian black murderers, on the 20th January, and the next batch three white bushrangers, 28th June of that year. T h e condemned burial-ground was, as before noted, close by the north-eastern corner of the public cemetery outside the fence. Herein were deposited the remains of the blackfellows, and nothing further was heard of them for more than five months, when they were joined by the white fellows, and shortly after it began to be rumoured that on certain nights of the week (Tuesdays and Fridays) the most unearthly doings were indulged in by the ghosts of the five defunct individuals, w h o had the outside graveyard to themselves, but who, so soon as the night was well in, jumped out of their graves, and plunged into vagaries of a most astounding character, a species of pedestrianism which might be termed a combination of corroboree and hornpipe. T h e blackfellows in opossum rugs, and the whites in shrouds romped about in wild confusion, kicking and sparring at each other, prancing along by the northern boundary, westward to where the Melbourne pound was situated, and back to the starting point. T h e cattle-yard was at the n o w intersection of Elizabeth and Victoria Streets, and persons engaged here at unseasonable hours declared that they witnessed such exhibitions. O n e of these individuals