A SHADY TENANT.
[From inquiries made by a Daily Chronicle representative it appears that the present demand for housing accommodation is such that people no longer draw the line at ghosts.]
The problem at last is a thing of the past;
Doubts and fears, Geraldine, are at rest;
We can put up the banns and make definite plans,
For the love-birds will soon have a nest.
I've inspected, my sweet, the sequestered retreat
In which we are destined to dwell,
And on thinking things out I have not the least doubt
It will suit us exceedingly well.
There are drawbacks, I grant, but one nowadays can't
Have perfection, as you are aware,
And I'm sure you won't grouse when I state that the house
Is both damp and in need of repair.
I might add there's a floor that shows traces of gore;
I discovered the latter to be
That of one Lady Jane, who was brutally slain
By her husband in Sixteen-Two-Three.
Years have passed since the time of that dastardly crime,
But the victim's intangible shade
Can be seen to this day, so the villagers say,
In diaphanous garments arrayed.
In the gloom of the room where she met with her doom
She's appearing once nightly, it seems,
And the listener quails as lugubrious wails
Are succeeded by agonised screams.
But the trivial flaws I have mentioned need cause
No concern; I am certain that you
Will approve of my choice, Geraldine, and rejoice
In the thought that our haven's in view.
In the likely event of your mother's descent
There's the warmest of welcomes in store,
And a rug I'll provide for her bedroom, to hide
That indelible stain on the floor.
