The sociable ghost : $b Being the adventures of a reporter who was invited by the sociable ghost to a grand banquet, ball, and convention under the ground of old Trinity churchyard. A true tale of the things he saw and did not see while he was not there.Harper, Olive
Science
The sociable ghost : $b Being the adventures of a reporter who was invited by the sociable ghost to a grand banquet, ball, and convention under the ground of old Trinity churchyard. A true tale of the things he saw and did not see while he was not there.
Harper, Olive
American fiction -- 20th century; Ghost stories
“Well, in the first place, that queen is entirely too modern, and she
reigned something like three or four hundred years before the Christian
era, while I came from the family of one of the first of the real
Egyptian sovereigns. She was not even Egyptian, being only of Greek
origin. We did not recognize her when she died and she was not even
mummified, for the Romans would not have allowed it, and so no one ever
knew what ever really became of her body. It did not interest us, as she
was an upstart who had brought all sorts of evils upon my country. She
is doubtless dust and ashes two thousand years ago. She was greatly
overrated, and was nowhere near so beautiful as she has been considered.
I belonged to the first dynasty, though there had been many kings and
queens before me. My tomb was like those of the first royal ladies of my
line. I had never been married—nor had I reigned, so according to usage,
my tomb and sarcophagus were plain, save for the paintings on them to
tell who I was. One day some vandals came and rifled my tomb and took my
mummy case, and brought it to this country and put me in the museum in a
glass case, and you have no idea how angry it makes me to have to
squeeze out. May the jackals eat their bones, and leave no two of them
together, so they will never find them in this world or the other and
may wild beasts tear their children, and leave the mothers desolate, and
raze their dwellings, and may their babes starve to death, and may they
all die crying for water—”
How much longer this would have continued the newspaper man did not
know, but he began to feel most uncomfortable, for one of these very
collectors of mummies was his own father, and if he had not brought his
particular one he had brought two others. He began to want to go home,
but he tried to look sympathetic, and as if he had never heard of such
terrible things as stealing mummies before. She continued:
“Yes; I am lady Shep, and when I was mummified these lines were put upon
my case. Not everybody knows about them, but I will tell you. First,
there was a line of text, and this is what it says:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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