| PAGE | |
| INTRODUCTION. | [5] |
| A Peep at the Wonder Club. | |
| CHAPTER I. | [17] |
| The Phantom Flea.—The Lawyer's Story. | |
| CHAPTER II. | [57] |
| The Spirit Lovers.—The Doctor's Story. | |
| CHAPTER III. | [118] |
| Containing Mr. Parnassus's Poem, The Glacier King. | |
| CHAPTER IV. | [129] |
| The Mermaid Palace; or, Captain Toughyarn's Dream. | |
| CHAPTER V. | [159] |
| The Headless Lady.—The Artist's First Story. | |
| CHAPTER VI. | [175] |
| The Demon Guide; or, the Gnome of the Mountain.—The Geologist's Story. | |
| CHAPTER VII. | [202] |
| The Pigmy Queen; A Fairy Tale.—The Landlord's Daughter's Story. | |
| CHAPTER VIII. | [262] |
| The Haunted Stage Box.—The Tragedian's Story. | |
| CHAPTER IX. | [314] |
| The Spirit Leg.—The Analytical Chemist's Story. | |
| CHAPTER X. | [359] |
| An Interlude. | |
| CHAPTER XI. | [373] |
| Lost in the Catacombs.—The Antiquary's Story. | |
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
| PAGE | |
| Frontispiece | — |
| Title Page | — |
| The Phantom Flea | [17] |
| The Spirit Lovers | [57] |
| The Glacier King | [118] |
| The Mermaid | [129] |
| The Pigmy Queen | [202] |
| The Spirit Leg | [314] |
| Lost in the Catacombs | [373] |
INTRODUCTION.
A Peep at the Wonder Club.
Towards the close of the last century there stood in one of the Midland counties of England, in the centre of two cross-roads, a venerable hostelry, built in the reign of Elizabeth, and known by the sign of "Ye Headless Lady." Its ancient gables were shaded by luxuriant elms and beech trees. The woodwork of the building and its weather-stained walls of brick were partially overgrown with thick ivy, while its high, dingy-red roof was tinted with every variety of lichen. The windows were narrow, and the framework heavy, as is usual in houses of that period.
The host of this establishment, one Jack Hearty, was one of the old school of landlords—robust, jovial, and never above his business. His fathers had owned the inn before him, and "he never wished to be a better man than his father, nor a worse either, for the matter of that," as he would say. All day long, when not engaged with his customers indoors, he was to be seen at the door of his inn, with his apron girt around him, and a "yard of clay" at his lips, straining his eyes down the long cross-roads for the first glimpse of a customer.