I am a highly respectable family ghost. I appear usually at two in the morning, wearing, what I believe is called in theatrical circles, a disguise cloak, and carrying a long blood-stained sword. I have one serious drawback. I have a shocking memory, and have entirely forgotten my identity. For the death of me I cannot remember why I became a ghost, and what on earth I ought to haunt. I fancy it should be some sort of castle, as I have an indistinct recollection of once frightening a man carrying some huge keys, from what I take must have been a portcullis, into fits. But this is merely conjecture, and I can't in the least account for my blood-stained sword. As I am really conscientious, this state of things has caused me serious regret. I have no wish to alarm the wrong people, nor to haunt the wrong place. The first is improper, and the second is _infra dig_. But what can I do? I find that I must appear at least once in every four-and-twenty hours, and my difficulty has been to so suit my time and place, that the least inconvenience should be given to the smallest number. Consequently, for many years I have been a nightly _habitué_ of the South Kensington Museum. No doubt this arrangement would have continued for an indefinite period had I not been recently arrested by a Policeman for loitering in the picture-galleries, who only permitted me to vanish in blue fire (I prefer blue to red) on the condition that I did not re-enter the Institution. Ousted from the South Kensington Museum, I determined not to visit any other public establishment. Partly because I was tired beyond measure of curiosities, and partly, because my dignity had been wounded by the incident that had severed my connection with the School of Art. Supplementary to this, I felt that I might be neglecting a duty by not discovering the proper place for my periodical apparitions. It occurred to me it would be a great comfort if I could but find the exact spot, where undisturbed, I could appear and disappear without fear of interruption, at any rate, from the profession, for I knew that I should not be allowed to poach on the haunting-grounds of my fellow phantoms. As a matter of fact, I once had a terrible row in the Tower of London, (caused by Sir WALTER RALEIGH, Lord BALMARINO, and Lady JANE GREY objecting to my joining the little gathering there, on the score "that I did not belong to their set") which ended in my being ejected in the most undignified manner possible from the premises. However, I am pretty determined when I make up my mind, and I formed the resolution of leaving no stone unturned until I had discovered my proper destination.