vocation, but the ghost of the former occupant
soon came back, with a rope in its hand, and
made a terrible disturbance. This was not to
be endured; so the new tenant, seeing the ghost
standing at the door one fine moonlight night,
took his opportunity. He cut a silver coin into
nine pieces, and shot them through the head of
the spectre, who vanished with a loud roar, and
never was seen afterwards. It is worthy of
observation that the marksman took care that
the ghost's shadow did not fall upon him, since
if it had done so, he would have been wholly in
its power. For we must understand that the
Eibo ghost is not only somewhat substantial,
but that it casts a shadow. Possibly the fate of
this twice-killed suicide came to the ears of
another ghost, who appeared at Dirslätt (nearer
the isthmus which joins Nucko to the continent),
and who was mischievous beyond the average,
but showed a singular deficiency in personal
courage. When the men. were absent from
home, this spectral nuisance would extinguish
the lights, drive the women out of doors, let the
cattle loose, and accompany all these enormities
with a frightful uproar; but if a man was on
the premises, it did not so much as show its
face. Shall we harbour a suspicion that the
women devised this timid ghost on purpose to
make the men keep proper hours? The most
unsatisfactory tale relates to the ghost of an old
gentleman, who made a point of visiting his
family every Thursday. Passing through the
front room of the homestead, which includes the
kitchen, he tapped at the door of the sitting-
room until it was opened, and the eldest son
was deputed to receive the restless father. The
ghost explained the cause of its visitation, on
the solemn promise of the son that it should
not be revealed to any one else. This was a
sad balk to the more curious members of the
family, and very probably the enlightened son
gave himself many conceited airs on the strength
of his exclusive information. But the interview
so far answered its purpose, that the Thursday
visits were not repeated. In the importance
given to the Thursday by the Eibo-folk, a
reverence to the God Thor may be traced, and
it is worthy of remark that the operations of
grinding and spinning on Thursday afternoon
are deemed unlucky, and likely to cause a
disorder in the sheep. At Rälby, a village in the
island of Worms, there was a strong-minded
young man, who went so far as to shoot the
ghost of his own father, with a silver coin cast
into the form of a bullet. The ghost
disappeared, and in its place was found a quantity of
slime. Feeling something like remorse, the son
mixed up the ghost's remains with some sand,
in order to give them consistency, and wrapping
them up in a cloth, piously deposited them in
the churchyard. At Oesterby, in Nucko, there
was a most ingenious ghost, which baffled all
attempts to put it down. First it appeared on
the stove, in the shape of a black dog, and when
the unwelcome beast had vanished, a little grey
man was seen to effect an entrance through the
wall, just above the window, and hop about
maliciously on one leg. This form gave hopes of
a capture, but no sooner was an attempt made
to seize the mannikin, than, hey presto! he was
converted into a fowl, which defied all pursuit.
Still more daring was a ghost that, in the shape
of a black he-goat, met a peasant of Rälby on
his way home from a shooting expedition. The
peasant levelled his gun at the animal, but it
immediately changed into a black man, snatched
the weapon out of his hands, and broke off the
lock. A prayer caused the spectre to vanish,
and the peasant ran away likewise; but the
latter, on returning to the spot next day, found
the fragments of the gun lying at a distance from
each other. A ghost who met a man coming
home to Kertell, in Dago, had an easier method
of dealing with aggressors. Its form was that
of a great hulking fellow, and it carried a huge
leather sack. Into this the man must needs
plunge his knife, when such a strong gust of
wind came from the hole, that it knocked him
down. In this instance the ghost seems to have
had the right on its side, and there is no doubt
that the man was a churlish lout, for when he
met the spectre he had just been quarrelling
with a neighbour, although it was Christmas-
eve. Very harmless, too, was a white figure
that came up to a peasant of Worms, who
was driving home from the pastor's residence to
his own home at Borby, in Worms. It seated
itself behind him, and evidently intended no
mischief, as it leaped down at the journey's end,
but it had frightened the poor man out of his
wits, as he afterwards proved by giving tobacco
instead of corn to his chickens.

An old proverb tells us that the meat of one
is the poison of another, and we are informed
that ghosts, though generally esteemed a nuisauce
by the human inhabitants of the Eibo-district,
are regarded as an exquisite delicacy by the
wolves. A peasant who died at Kertell, in
Dago, adopted the common bad habit of revisiting
his old residence, and making a great noise,
but this affliction might perhaps have been
borne, if he had not beaten his widow, with
whom he had lived on very bad terms. With
his brother he attempted to curry favour, and
finding him engaged in heating a lime-kiln in
the mountains, offered to lend a helping hand.
The brother, however, wanted no such assistance,
but cried out to the intrusive spectre, "Have
you forgotten whence you came? You ought
to be under ground. Be off to the wolf."
Perceiving that his affability was thrown away,
the spectre retired, and proceeded to the house,
but when he reached the stepping-stones of a
brook, he was met by a wolf, who devoured him
on the spot.

What ought a philanthropist to do if he
unexpectedly comes upon a ghost that is in danger
of being eaten up by a wolf? Certainly the
ghost is more human in appearance, but as far
as flesh and blood go the living quadruped
would seem to be more nearly akin to us. The
casuists of the Eibo-folk decide in favour of the
wolf, if we may judge from the following incident.
A ghost, seized with one of those fits of