The brave ghost-investigator walked up the four narrow stone steps that once led to the church door--but now, alas! lead sadly nowhere--then turned into the graveyard. As he stumbled eagerly along through the high grass and tangled blackberry-bushes, and as he passed under the shading branches of a wild-cherry tree, a most terrifying catastrophe took place--he plunged and slid into an open grave containing about a foot of water. Cuddy heard the splash, and it indicated to him the Doctor’s utter annihilation. He gathered the reins up with a groan of despair and prepared to drive off with speed, lest the moonack chase and overwhelm him also, when he heard the Doctor’s voice. The instinct of obedience was strong in him--for he had been born a slave--and he delayed a moment to listen. “Come here, Cuddy,” shouted the Doctor, “I’ve fallen into the grave they’ve dug for old Tom Hazard.” Cuddy groaned, but did not move, either to drive, or to fly to the Doctor’s rescue. “Come here, I say, and help me out; I shall die of the rheumatism if I stay here.” Another groan, but still no motion to render assistance. “Cuddy, if you don’t come, I’ll conjure you with that big skeleton in my closet.” Still no answer, and at last, the Doctor, by dint of struggling and breaking away the earth, managed to drag himself out of the shallow grave. Undaunted by a mishap that would have both mentally unnerved and physically exhausted anyone but a country doctor, unchilled in spirit though shivering in body, the determined investigator walked up to the ghost. He took one glance and at once turned, and, avoiding the open grave, ran down the steps and across the green. “Come here, Cuddy; if I die of rheumatism I’ll take you up and show you that ghost. I’ll conjure you with every charm in the witch-book if you don’t come.” Cuddy was weak with terror, and the Doctor seized him by the collar, pulled him out of the chaise and up the steps. With chattering teeth and closed eyes he stumbled along by the Doctor’s side, clutching his leader’s arm and muttering words of Voodoo charms. When they reached the faintly shining ghost, the Doctor shouted, “Open your eyes, Cuddy,” and his power fairly forced Cuddy to comply. The Doctor raised his whip and brought it down on the shining ghost; a great swarm of fire-flies rose in the air, leaving disclosed a juniper-tree, which had chanced to grow somewhat in the form of a human figure. This strange phenomenon I cannot explain, but it is not the only time that a juniper-tree on a misty night in fall has attracted a swarm of fire-flies to light upon it.