“I’VE SEEN DE DEBBLE.”
Our new domestic appeared in her night clothes.
“O missus, I’ve seen de debble, I done have,” was her first exclamation.
This, certainly, was not a sight that we should wish any one to see in our house, as desirable as a dignified spectre might have been.
“Pooh!” said my sister. “What a silly creature! Go back to bed and to sleep, and do not shame us by appearing before company in your night clothes.”
“I don’t keer nothing about my night clothes,” she replied, with spirit. “Jes’ go to de room and git de things dat belong to me, an’ I’ll leave, and never disturb you nor dis house any more. It’s dreadful enough to be visited by dead folks, any way, but when de spirits comes rattling a chain it’s a dreadful bad sign, you may be sure.”
“What did you see?” asked I.
“See? I didn’t see nothin’. ’Twas bad enough to hear it. I wouldn’t hav’ seen it for de world. I’ll go quick—jest as soon as you gets de things.”
We made her a bed on a lounge below stairs. The next morning she took her bundles and made a speedy exit.