Sixes and Sevens by O. Henry


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Page 34

"True," said Terence, running two fingers thoughtfully into his crisp,
brown hair; "that would never do. How would it work to see the same ghost
again, minus the overalls, and have gold bricks in the hod? That would
elevate the spectre from degrading toil to a financial plane. Don't you
think that would be respectable enough?"

"There was an ancestor who fought against the Britishers, wasn't there?
Your mother said something to that effect."

"I believe so; one of those old chaps in raglan vests and golf trousers.
I don't care a continental for a Continental, myself. But the mother has
set her heart on pomp and heraldry and pyrotechnics, and I want her to be
happy."

"You are a good boy, Terence," said Mrs. Bellmore, sweeping her silks
close to one side of her, "not to beat your mother. Sit here by me, and
let's look at the album, just as people used to do twenty years ago. Now,
tell me about every one of them. Who is this tall, dignified gentleman
leaning against the horizon, with one arm on the Corinthian column?"

"That old chap with the big feet?" inquired Terence, craning his neck.
"That's great-uncle O'Brannigan. He used to keep a rathskeller on the
Bowery."

"I asked you to sit down, Terence. If you are not going to amuse, or
obey, me, I shall report in the morning that I saw a ghost wearing an
apron and carrying schooners of beer. Now, that is better. To be shy, at
your age, Terence, is a thing that you should blush to acknowledge."



At breakfast on the last morning of her visit, Mrs. Bellmore startled and
entranced every one present by announcing positively that she had seen the
ghost.

"Did it have a -- a -- a --?" Mrs. Kinsolving, in her suspense and
agitation, could not bring out the word.

"No, indeed -- far from it."

There was a chorus of questions from others at the table. "Were n't you
frightened?" "What did it do?" "How did it look?" "How was it dressed?"
"Did it say anything?" "Didn't you scream?"

"I'll try to answer everything at once," said Mrs. Bellmore, heroically,
"although I'm frightfully hungry. Something awakened me -- I'm not sure
whether it was a noise or a touch -- and there stood the phantom. I never
burn a light at night, so the room was quite dark, but I saw it plainly.
I wasn't dreaming. It was a tall man, all misty white from head to foot.
It wore the full dress of the old Colonial days -- powdered hair, baggy
coat skirts, lace ruffles, and a sword. It looked intangible and luminous
in the dark, and moved without a sound. Yes, I was a little frightened at
first -- or startled, I should say. It was the first ghost I had ever
seen. No, it didn't say anything. I didn't scream. I raised up on my
elbow, and then it glided silently away, and disappeared when it reached
the door."

Mrs. Kinsolving was in the seventh heaven. "The description is that of
Captain Kinsolving, of General Greene's army, one of our ancestors," she
said, in a voice that trembled with pride and relief. "I really think I
must apologize for our ghostly relative, Mrs. Bellmore. I am afraid he
must have badly disturbed your rest."

Terence sent a smile of pleased congratulation toward his mother.
Attainment was Mrs. Kinsolving's, at last, and he loved to see her happy.

"I suppose I ought to be ashamed to confess," said Mrs. Bellmore, who was
now enjoying her breakfast, "that I wasn't very much disturbed. I presume
it would have been the customary thing to scream and faint, and have all
of you running about in picturesque costumes. But, after the first alarm
was over, I really couldn't work myself up to a panic. The ghost retired
from the stage quietly and peacefully, after doing its little turn, and I
went to sleep again."

Nearly all listened, politely accepted Mrs. Bellmore s story as a made-up
affair, charitably offered as an offset to the unkind vision seen by Mrs.
Fischer-Suympkins. But one or two present perceived that her assertions
bore the genuine stamp of her own convictions. Truth and candour seemed
to attend upon every word. Even a scoffer at ghosts -- if he were very
observant -- would have been forced to admit that she had, at least in a
very vivid dream, been honestly aware of the weird visitor. '

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 14th Jan 2026, 14:48