Dotty hesitated.
"If the 'Publicans do, and my father does."
"O, yes; everybody believes in the black walnut bureau—that ever saw one."
Dotty glanced at Horace stealthily; but his face was so serious that she was sure he could not be making sport of her. They were walking a little in advance of the others, Horace dragging Flyaway, who was intent upon digging her little heels into the ground.
"This place is sometimes called Goblin Valley," said the boy. "A goblin means a sort of ghost; but nobody but simpletons believe in such things," added he, quickly, for he was too high-minded to wish to frighten his little cousin.
"O, I'm not at all afraid of such things," said Dotty quietly; "I've got all over it. I know what ghosts are now; they are pumpkins."
"Excuse my smiling," said Horace, laughing uproariously.
"You may laugh, cousin Horace, but I've seen them. They have a candle inside; and that's why my father brought me out West, because the doctor said it frightened me so. Why, they had to pour water over me and drown me almost to death, or I'd have died!"
"I wonder!"
"Yes, 'twas Johnny Eastman; but his mamma gave me a beautiful little tea-set, with golder rims than the one that was burnt up; and Johnny and Percy both felt dreadfully."