I was rather disappointed in the appearance of Cousin Statia; I had expected to see a fresh, smiling-looking country girl, but I found a stiff, demure-looking young lady, at whose age I scarcely dared venture a guess. A little colored girl waited on the table, who evidently surveyed me with a great deal of interest; for I constantly caught the sharp glances of her little black eyes. She had been christened Aholibama--a name which she told me was taken out of some story-book, though I afterwards found that it was in the Bible--but this being too long an appellation, they had abbreviated it to Holly. During a hasty glance into the cheerful kitchen, I caught a glimpse of a very nice-looking colored woman, who, I afterwards found, was Sylvia, the cook. Everything looked very pleasant around, though plain; but I was tired and sleepy, and at an early hour Cousin Statia conducted me to a small, neat room in the second story, with white curtains; and after ascertaining that I could undress myself, she left me for a short time, promising to come and take the candle. I felt the least bit homesick and wished very much to see them all; but I was also very much interested in the novelty of a new scene, and anticipated a great deal of pleasure in examining the premises. Aunt Henshaw had told me that she believed there were kittens somewhere around, and I determined to search till I found them; for a little pet kitten appeared to me the sweetest of all created things. In the meantime, I began to experience a very uncomfortable sensation that quickly swallowed up all other thoughts. Cousin Statia had taken the candle, but it was a bright, moonlight night, and the beautiful moonbeams that came dancing in and formed a perfect network upon the floor, made the room almost as light as day. It was not very warm weather, but I felt the perspiration pouring down, while I trembled in every limb. My eyes were fixed with a sort of fascination on the opposite wall, where the shadow of a figure seemed to pass and repass; and every time it arrived at a certain point, there was a sort of a kick up, as though with the feet behind. I looked all around, as soon as I dared to, but everything was still except the tormenting shadow. I scarcely breathed, but kept watching the queer figure, till I was almost ready to faint from cowardice. I tried to reason with myself--and called to mind how my father had endeavored to banish this weakness; how one night on being afraid to go into the cellar, he had himself gone with me and examined every corner, to convince me that there was nothing to fear; and under the impulse of these reflections I sprang out of bed, determined to investigate the mystery. I went in every part of the room; I examined the window, the curtains, but nothing was to be seen, while the figure still continued its movements; and almost sick, I returned to bed, to lie and watch the shadow. All sorts of queer stories rushed into