A DOUBLE-BARRELLED GHOST. 325
outing I had was when your father attended a seance, and I was knocked up in the middle of the night. But I did not enjoy my holiday in the least ; the indignity of having to move the furniture made the blood boil in my veins as in a spirit-lamp, and exposed me to the malicious badinage of my circle on my return. I protested that I did not care a rap, but I was mightily rejoiced when I learnt that your father had denounced the proceedings as a swindle, and was resolved never to invite me to his table again. When you were born I thought you were born to trouble, as the sparks fly upwards from our dwelling-place ; but I was mistaken. Up till now your life has been a long summer afternoon."
" Yes, but now the shades are falling," I said grimly. "It looks as if my life he nee forwards will be a long holiday — for you."
He shook his wig mournfully.
" No, I am only out on parole. I have had to give my word of honour to try to set you on your legs again as soon as possible."
"You couldn't have come at a more opportune moment," I cried, remembering how he had found me. "You are a good as well as a great-grandfather, and I am proud of my descent. Won't you have a cigar? "
"Thank you, I never smoke — on earth," said the spirit hurriedly, with a flavour of bitter in his accents. " Let us to the point. You have been reduced to the painful neces- sity of earning your living."
I nodded silently, and took a sip of lemon-squash. A strange sense of salvation lulled my soul.
" How do you propose to do it?" asked my great-grand- father.
"Oh, I leave that to you," I said confidingly.
" Well, what do you say to a literary career? "
