Uncle Will was a bachelor, too matter-of-fact and prosaic ever to fall in love, I thought. The more surprised, therefore, was I one day to hear him recount his treatment of a patient, a young lady suffering only from what to me seemed an acute attack of hysteria, nothing more. This patient was one of those highly-strung young ladies who easily develop hysteria, and the story she narrated to Uncle Will of what had brought her to the pitiful state she was in seemed to me a tissue of rubbish. She vividly described her meeting with a real ghost on her way home late from a party, alone, through some accidental misunderstanding. Her way lay past a lonely mansion infrequently occupied, rich in historical associations, but so far unclaimed by any ghost. Miss S———, however, succeeded in describing the one she saw in great detail, from his cavalier hat to his buckled shoes. He was leaning against a gate through which she had to pass, and he moved aside courteously to make way for her. She thanked him, and to her horror, he vanished into thin air. The clear moonlight and the snow combined to make any rational explanation impossible. That was her tale. “A silly fanciful girl, over-excited by the evening's pleasure,” was my comment. “Yet this girl came a distance of three miles through the worst thunderstorm we've had for years, in the dead of night, to fetch me to her sick mother a short while ago,” answered Uncle Will, and then added: “Good thing I’m her medical man and not a raw fellow like you, laddie; I can understand her, because (I have told no one else) I myself have seen at the very same place the very same ghost.” The Phantom Carriage SOME years ago, whilst staying at a little town in Somerset, I became acquainted with the chauffeur of a family who resided in a stately old mansion, standing in a large and well-kept park. One evening, as the family were away, I was invited to pay my friend a visit. The walk of two miles brought me to the drive gates, and from there to the house was about three-quarters of a mile across the park, which was divided in several places by iron railings, having white gates across the drive. These were always kept closed when the family were away. After a chat and smoke with my friend, I started my homeward journey about 9:30, it being a beautiful moonlight night. I had got about one-third of the way down the drive when a pair of carriage lamps loomed out ahead, and knowing the people were away, I was surprised to meet a conveyance coming to the house so late at night. The lights came nearer and I could distinctly hear the horses’ hoofs on the drive. I had just reached one of the gates and decided to stay and hold it open for the vehicle to pass. On came the two-horse carriage which was now quite visible, and I shouted to the driver that I would hold the gate open for him, but I got no reply. The carriage was now within about ten yards, when, suddenly, the whole lot disappeared.