I did not reply to him; I wouldn’t. And ag’in he hurried me on’ards by some good lookin’ bildin’s, and trees, and tavrens, and cottages, and etc., etc., and we come to Caroline street, and Jane, and Matilda, and lots of wimmen’s names.
And Josiah sez, “I’ll bet the man that named them streets wuz love sick!”
But he wuzn’t no such thing. It was a father that owned the land, and laid out the streets, and named ’em for his daughters. Good old creeter! I wuzn’t goin’ to have him run at this late day, and run down his own streets too.
But ag’in Josiah hurried me on’ards. And bimeby we found ourselves a standin’ in front of a kind of a lonesome lookin’ house, big and square, with tall pillows in front. It wuz a standin’ back as if it wuz a kinder a drawin’ back from company, in a square yard all dark and shady with tall trees. And it all looked kinder dusky, and solemn like. And a bystander a standin’ by told us that it wuz “ha’nted.”
Josiah pawed at it, and shawed at the idee of a gost.
But I sez, “There! that is the only thing Saratoga lacked to make her perfectly interestin’, and that is a gost!”
But agin Josiah pawed at the idee, and sez, “There never wuz such a thing as a gost! and never will be.” And sez he, “what an extraordenary idiot anybody must be to believe in any sech thing.” And ag’in he looked very skernful and high-headed, and once ag’in he shawed.
And I kep’ pretty middlin’ calm and serene and asked the bystander, when the gost ha’nted, and where?
And he said, it opened doors and blowed out lights mostly, and trampled up stairs.