"A ghost. Now, Mr. Seddon, you need not open your eyes in wonder at such a wish, for I tell you that those invisible gentlemen who perambulate the air have a great advantage over us poor mortals, who have to waddle about on two legs and carry a burden of one hundred and fifty or two hundred pounds of flesh on our bones, which is a manifest inconvenience to freedom of locomotion. A ghost can do pretty much as he sees fit. He can get on a car and travel as long as he pleases, and the conductor will not nudge him and ask him for his ticket. He can seat himself every Sunday in the best pew of the most fashionable church, and nobody will ever call upon him for pew rent; and he can go to theaters and all places of amusement without apprehension of having his pockets picked or his watch stolen. A ghost never hits his shins against anything in the dark which will make a saint in the flesh swear, but can pass through a stone wall like a current of electricity; and when he wants to be in any distant place, all he has to do is to ride on his own wish and be instantly conveyed to the spot. He can stand with his bare feet on the tip of the North Pole without danger to his ten toes from the frost, and he can then by mere volition instantaneously transfer himself to the tropics, where, as Captain Bragg has informed me, the milk of the cocoanut almost scalds a monkey's mouth at mid-day, and at either place the temperature is just as agreeable to a ghost. A ghost can slip down his neighbor's chimney and peep into his pot and see what he is going to have for his dinner." "That," said Seddon, "must be a great satisfaction to the ghosts of those enterprising individuals who are given to minding other people's business instead of attending to their own." "Very true. But don't interrupt me, Tom, now I am on the subject of ghosts. Among the manifest advantages of being a ghost is one which above all others is deserving of especial consideration. A ghost can see a person's thoughts. Being fond of sweet things, ghosts experience great pleasure in watching the thoughts of ladies who are meditating upon their absent lovers. When a young maiden is thinking about her lover who is far away, her thoughts wander off to him and return, looking as sweet as little bees with their legs laden with honey leaving a field of fragrant clover and coming home to the hive. And if any poor fellow has a sweetheart, and is not certain whether she cares a fig for him or not, he should not be sitting all day in the dumps and looking as sulky as a bear with a sore head. Just let him make a ghost of himself, and he will be able to see down to the very bottom of her gizzard; and if she cares anything about him, her thoughts will look like lumps of candy-kisses, labeled with poetry and wrapped up in blue paper." "I wouldn't mind being a ghost myself," said Seddon. "In order that you might have a peep at the musings and meditations of pretty Ida? But you blush, Tom."