“Right here,” and Aunt Abby pointed to a place on the rug near the head of her bed. It was a narrow bed, which had been brought there for her during her stay. “Huh! Now you could’a dropped it there?” “I know,” and Aunt Abby whispered, “Nobody’ll believe me, but I know!” “You do! Say, you’re some wiz! Spill it to me, there’s a dear!” Fibsy was, in his way, a psychologist, and he knew by instinct that this old lady would like him better if he retained his ignorant, untutored ways, than if he used the more polished speech, which he had painstakingly acquired for other kinds of occasions. “I wonder if you’d understand. For a boy, you’re a bright one--” “Oh, yes, ma’am. I am! They don’t make ‘em no brighter ‘n me! Try me, do, Miss Ames! I’m right there with the goods.” “Well, child, it’s this: I saw a--a vision--” “Yes’m, I know--I mean I know what visions are, they’re fine, too!” He fairly smacked his lips in gusto, and it encouraged Aunt Abby to proceed. “Yes, and it was the ghost of--who do you suppose it was?” “Your grandmother, ma’am?” The boy’s attitude was eagerly attentive and his freckled little face was drawn in a desperate interest. “No!” Aunt Abby drew closer and just breathed the words, “Mr. Embury!” “Oh!” Fibsy was really startled, and his eyes opened wide, as he urged, “Go on, ma’am!” “Yes. Well, it was just at the moment that Mr. Embury was--that he died--you know.” “Yes’m, they always comes then, ma’am!” “I know it, and oh, child, this is a true story!” “Oh, yes, ma’am--I know it is!” Indeed one could scarcely doubt it, for Aunt Abby, having found an interested listener at last, poured forth her account of her strange experience, not caring for comment or explanation, since she had found some one who believed! “Yes, it was just at that time--I know, because it was almost daylight--just before dawn--and I was asleep, but not entirely asleep--” “Sort’a half dozing--” “Yes; and Sanford--Mr. Embury, you know, came gliding through my room, and he stopped at my bedside to say good-by--” “Was he alive?” asked Fibsy, awe-struck at her hushed tones and bright, glittering eyes. “Oh, no, it was his spirit, you see--his disembodied spirit” “How could you see it, then?” “When spirits appear like that, they are visible.” “Oh, ma’am--I didn’t know.” “Yes, and I not only saw him but he was evident to all my five senses!” “What, ma’am? What do you mean?” Fibsy drew back, a little scared, as Aunt Abby clutched his sleeve in her excitement. He felt uneasy, for it was growing dusk, and the old lady was in such a state of nervous exhilaration that he shrank a little from her proximity. But Fibsy was game. “Go on, ma’am,” he whispered. “Yes,” Aunt Abby declared, with an eerie smile of triumph, “I saw him--I heard him--I felt him--I smelled him--and, I tasted him!”