Project Gutenberg Australia


Title: Old Applejoy's Ghost
Author: Frank R. Stockton
* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.: 0602921.txt
Edition: 1
Language: English
Character set encoding: Latin-1(ISO-8859-1)--8 bit
Date first posted: July 2006
Date most recently updated: July 2006

This eBook was produced by: Richard Scott

Project Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editions
which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice
is included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particular
paper edition.

Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this
file.

This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online at
http://gutenberg.net.au/licence.html


To contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.au



Old Applejoy's Ghost
Frank R. Stockton

The large and commodious apartments in the upper part of the old
Applejoy mansion were occupied exclusively, at the time of our story,
by the ghost of the grandfather of the present owner of the estate.

For many years old Applejoy's ghost had wandered freely about the
grand old house and the fine estate of which he had once been the lord
and master. But early in that spring a change had come over the
household of his grandson, John Applejoy, an elderly man, a bachelor,
and--for the later portion of his life--almost a recluse. His young
niece, Bertha, had come to live with him, and it was since her arrival
that old Applejoy's ghost had confined himself to the upper portions
of the house.

This secluded existence, so different from his ordinary habits, was
adopted entirely on account of the kindness of his heart. During the
lives of two generations of his descendants he knew that he had
frequently been seen by members of the family, but this did not
disturb him, for in life he had been a man who had liked to assert his
position, and the disposition to do so had not left him now. His
skeptical grandson John had seen him and spoken with him, but declared
that these ghostly interviews were only dreams or hallucinations. As
to other people, it might be a very good thing if they believed that
the house was haunted. People with uneasy consciences would not care
to live in such a place.

But when this fresh young girl came upon the scene the case was
entirely different. She was not twenty yet, and if anything should
happen which would lead her to suspect that the house was haunted she
might not be willing to live there. If that should come to pass, it
would be a great shock to the ghost.

For a long time the venerable mansion had been a quiet, darkened,
melancholy house. A few rooms only were occupied by John Applejoy and
his housekeeper, Mrs. Dipperton, who for years had needed little space
in which to pass the monotonous days of their lives. Bertha sang; she
danced by herself on the broad piazza; she brought flowers into the
house from the gardens, and, sometimes, it almost might have been
imagined that the days which were gone had come back again.

One winter evening, when the light of the full moon entered softly
through every unshaded window of the house, old Applejoy's ghost sat
in a high-backed chair, which on account of an accident to one of its
legs had been banished to the garret. Throwing one shadowy leg over
the other, he clasped the long fingers of his hazy hands and gazed
thoughtfully out the window.

"Winter has come," he said to himself. "And in two days it will be
Christmas!" Suddenly he started to his feet. "Can it be," he
exclaimed, "that my close-fisted grandson John does not intend to
celebrate Christmas! It has been years since he has done so, but now
that Bertha is in the house, will he dare to pass over it as though it
were but a common day? It is almost incredible that such a thing could
happen, but so far there have been no signs of any preparations. I
have seen nothing, heard nothing, smelt nothing. I will go this moment
and investigate."

Clapping his misty old cocked hat on his head and tucking the shade
of his faithful cane under his arm, he descended to the lower part of
the house. Glancing into the great parlors dimly lit by the moonlight,
he saw that all the furniture was shrouded in ancient linen covers.

"Humph!" ejaculated old Applejoy's ghost. "He expects no company
here!" Forthwith he passed through the dining room and entered the
kitchen and pantry. There were no signs that anything extraordinary in
the way of cooking had been done, or was contemplated. "Two days
before Christmas," he groaned, "and a kitchen thus! How widely
different from the olden time when I gave orders for the holidays! Let
me see what the old curmudgeon has provided for Christmas."

So saying, old Applejoy's ghost went around the spacious pantry,
looking upon shelves and tables. "Emptiness! Emptiness! Emptiness!" he
exclaimed. "A cold leg of mutton, a ham half gone, and cold boiled
potatoes--it makes me shiver to look at them! Pies? there ought to be
rows and rows of them, and there is not one! And Christmas two days
off!

"What is this? Is it possible? A chicken not full grown! Oh, John,
how you have fallen! A small-sized fowl for Christmas day! And cider?
No trace of it! Here is vinegar--that suits John, no doubt," and then
forgetting his present condition, he said to himself, "It makes my
very blood run cold to look upon a pantry furnished out like this!"
And with bowed head he passed out into the great hall.

If it were possible to prevent the desecration of his old home
during the sojourn of the young and joyous Bertha, the ghost of old
Applejoy was determined to do it, but to do anything he must put
himself into communication with some living being. Still rapt in
reverie he passed up the stairs and into the chamber where his
grandson slept. There lay the old man, his eyelids as tightly closed
as if there had been money underneath them. The ghost of old Applejoy
stood by his bedside.

"I can make him wake up and look at me," he thought, "so that I
might tell him what I think of him, but what impression could I expect
my words to make upon a one-chicken man like John? Moreover, if I
should be able to speak to him, he would persuade himself that he had
been dreaming, and my words would be of no avail!"

Old Applejoy's ghost turned away from the bedside of his
descendant, crossed the hall, and passed into the room of Mrs.
Dipperton, the elderly housekeeper. There she lay fast asleep. The
kindhearted ghost shook his head as he looked down upon her.

"It would be of no use," he said. "She would never be able to
induce old John to turn one inch aside from his parsimonious path.
More than that, if she were to see me she would probably scream--die,
for all I know--and that would be a pretty preparation for Christmas!"

Out he went, and getting more and more anxious in his mind, the
ghost passed to the front of the house and entered the chamber
occupied by young Bertha. Once inside the door, he stopped reverently
and removed his cocked hat.

The head of the bed was near the uncurtained window, and the bright
light of the moon shone upon a face more beautiful in slumber than in
the sunny hours of day. She slept lightly, her delicate eyelids
trembled now and then as if they would open, and sometimes her lips
moved, as if she would whisper something about her dreams.

Old Applejoy's ghost drew nearer and bent slightly over her. If he
could hear a few words he might find out where her mind wandered, what
she would like him to do for her.

At last, faintly whispered and scarcely audible, he heard one word,
"Tom!"

Old Applejoy's ghost stepped back from the bedside, "She wants Tom!
I like that! But I wish she would say something else. She can't have
Tom for Christmas--at least, not Tom alone. There is a great deal else
necessary before this can be made a place suitable for Tom!"

Again he drew near to Bertha and listened, but instead of speaking,
she suddenly opened her eyes. The ghost of old Applejoy drew back, and
made a low, respectful bow. The maiden did not move, but fixed her
lovely blue eyes upon the apparition, who trembled for fear that she
might scream or faint.

"Am I asleep?" she murmured, and then, after turning her head from
side to side to assure herself that she was in her own room, she
looked full into the face of old Applejoy's ghost, and boldly spoke to
him. "Are you a spirit?" said she. If a flush of joy could redden the
countenance of a ghost, his face would have glowed like sunlit rose
"Dear child," he exclaimed, "I am the ghost of your uncle's
grandfather. His younger sister, Maria, was your mother, and
therefore, I am the ghost of your great-grandfather."

"Then you must be the original Appljoy," said Bertha, "and I think
it very wonderful that I am not afraid of you. You look as if you
would not hurt anybody in this world, especially me!"

"There you have it, my dear!" he exclaimed, bringing his cane down
upon the floor with a violence which had it been the cane it used to
be would have wakened everybody in the house. "I vow to you there is
not a person in the world for whom I have such an affection as I feel
for you. You have brought into this house something of the old life. I
wish I could tell you how happy I have been since the bright spring
day that brought you here."

"I did not suppose I would make anyone happy by coming here," said
Bertha. "Uncle John does not seem to care much about me, and I did not
know about you."

"No, indeed," exclaimed the good ghost, "you did not know about me,
but you will. First, however, we must get down to business. I came
here to-night with a special object. It is about Christmas. Your uncle
does not mean to have any Christmas in this house, but I intend, if I
can possibly do so, to prevent him from disgracing himself. Still, I
cannot do anything without help, and there is nobody to help me but
you. Will you do it?"

Bertha could not refrain from a smile. "It would be funny to help a
ghost," she said, "but if I can assist you I shall be very glad."

"I want you to go into the lower part of the house," said he. "I
have something to show you. I shall go down and wait for you. Dress
yourself as warmly as you can, and have you some soft slippers that
will make no noise?"

"Oh, yes," said Bertha, her eyes twinkling with delight. "I shall
be dressed and with you in no time."

"Do not hurry yourself," said the good ghost as he left the room
"We have most of the night before us."

When the young girl had descended the great staircase almost as
noiselessly as the ghost, she found her venerable companion waiting
for her. "Do you see the lantern on the table?" said he. "John uses it
when he goes his round of the house at bedtime. There are matches
hanging above it. Please light it. You may be sure I would not put you
to this trouble if I were able to do it myself."

When she had lighted the brass lantern, the ghost invited her to
enter the study. "Now," said he as he led the way to the large desk
with the cabinet above it, "will you be so good as to open that glass
door and put your hand into the front corner of that middle shelf? You
will feel a key hanging upon a little hook."

"But this is my uncle's cabinet," Bertha said, "and I have no right
to meddle with his keys and things!"

The ghost drew himself up to the six feet two inches which had been
his stature in life. "This was my cabinet," he said, "and I have never
surrendered it to your uncle John! With my own hands I screwed the
little hook into that dark corner and hung the key upon it! Now I beg
you to take down that key and unlock that little drawer at the
bottom."

Without a moment's hesitation Bertha took the key from the hook
unlocked and opened the drawer. "It is full of old keys all tied
together in a bunch!" she said.

"Yes," said the ghost. "Now, my dear, I want you to understand that
what we are going to do is strictly correct and proper. This was once
my house--everything in it I planned and arranged. I am now going to
take you into the cellars of my old mansion. They are wonderful
cellars; they were my pride and glory! Are you afraid," he said, "to
descend with me into these subterranean regions?"

"Not a bit!" exclaimed Bertha. "I think it will be the jolliest
thing in the world to go with my great-grandfather into the cellars
which he built himself, and of which he was so proud."

This speech so charmed the ghost of old Applejoy that he would
instantly have kissed his great-granddaughter had it not been that he
was afraid of giving her a cold.

"You are a girl to my liking!" he exclaimed. "I wish you had been
living at the time I was alive and master of this house. We should
have had gay times together!"

"I wish you were alive now, dear Great-grandpapa," said she. "Let
us go on--I am all impatience!"

They then descended into the cellars, which, until the present
owner came into possession of the estate, had been famous throughout
the neighborhood. "This way," said old Applejoy's ghost. "Do you see
that row of old casks nearly covered with cobwebs and dust? They
contain some of the choicest spirits ever brought into this country,
rum from Jamaica, brandy from France, port and Madeira.

"Come into this little room. Now, then, hold up your lantern.
Notice that row of glass jars on the shelf. They are filled with the
finest mincemeat ever made and just as good as it ever was! And there
are a lot more jars and cans all tightly sealed. I do not know what
good things are in them, but I am sure their contents are just what
will be wanted to fill out a Christmas table.

"Now, my dear, I want to show you the grandest thing in these
cellars. Behold that wooden box! Inside it is an airtight box made of
tin. Inside that is a great plum cake put into that box by me! I
intended it to stay there for a long time, for plum cake gets better
and better the longer it is kept. The people who eat that cake, my
dear Bertha, will be blessed above all their fellow mortals!

"And now I think you have seen enough to understand thoroughly that
these cellars are the abode of many good things to eat and to drink.
It is their abode, but if John could have his way it would be their
sepulchre!"

"But why did you bring me here, Great-grandpapa?" said Bertha "Do
you want me to come down here and have my Christmas dinner with you?"

"No, indeed," said old Applejoy's ghost. "Come upstairs, and let us
go into the study." Once they were there, Bertha sat down before the
fireplace and warmed her fingers over the few embers it contained.

"Bertha," said the spirit of her great-grandfather, "it is wicked
not to celebrate Christmas, especially when one is able to do so in
the most hospitable and generous way. For years John has taken no
notice of Christmas, and it is our duty to reform him if we can! There
is not much time before Christmas Day, but there is time enough to do
everything that has to be done, if you and I go to work and set other
people to work."

"And how are we to do that?" asked Bertha.

"The straightforward thing to do," said the ghost, "is for me to
appear to your uncle, tell him his duty, and urge him to perform it,
but I know what will be the result. He would call the interview a
dream. But there is nothing dreamlike about you, my dear. If anyone
hears you talking he will know he is awake."

"Do you want me to talk to Uncle?" said Bertha, smiling.

"Yes," said old Applejoy's ghost. "I want you to go to him
immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning and tell him exactly what
has happened this night; about the casks of spirits, the jars of
mincemeat, and the wooden box nailed fast and tight with the tin box
inside holding the plum cake. John knows all about that cake, and he
knows all about me, too."

"And what is the message?" asked Bertha.

"It is simply this," said the ghost. "When you have told him all
the events of this night, and when he sees that they must have
happened, I want you to tell him that it is the wish and desire of his
grandfather, to whom he owes everything, that there shall be worthy
festivities in this house on Christmas Day and Night. Tell him to open
his cellars and spend his money. Tell him to send for at least a dozen
good friends and relatives to attend the great holiday celebration
that is to be held in this house.

"Now, my dear," said old Applejoy's ghost, drawing near to the
young girl, "I want to ask you--a private, personal question. Who is
Tom?"

At these words a sudden blush rushed into the cheeks of Bertha.
"Tom?" she said. "What Tom?"

"I am sure you know a young man named Tom, and I want you to tell
me who he is. My name was Tom, and I am very fond of Toms. Is he a
nice young fellow? Do you like him very much?"

"Yes," said Bertha, meaning the answer to cover both questions.

"And does he like you?"

"I think so," said Bertha.

"That means you are in love with each other!" exclaimed old
Applejoy's ghost. "And now, my dear, tell me his last name. Out with
it!"

"Mr. Burcham," said Bertha, her cheeks now a little pale.

"Son of Thomas Burcham of the Meadows?"

"Yes, sir," said Bertha.

The ghost of old Applejoy gazed down upon his great-granddaughter
with pride and admiration "My dear Bertha," he exclaimed, "I
congratulate you! I have seen young Tom. He is a fine-looking fellow,
and if you love him I know he is a good one. Now, I'll tell you what
we will do, Bertha. We will have Tom here on Christmas."

"Oh, Great-grandfather, I can't ask Uncle to invite him!" she
exclaimed.

"We will have a bigger party than we thought we would," said the
beaming ghost. "All the invited guests will be asked to bring their
families. When a big dinner is given at this house, Thomas Burcham,
Sr., must not be left out, and he is bound to bring Tom. Now skip back
to your bed, and immediately after breakfast come here to your uncle
and tell him everything I have told you to tell him."

Bertha hesitated. "Great-grandfather," she said, "if Uncle does
allow us to celebrate Christmas, will you be with us?"

"Yes, indeed, my dear," said he. "And you need not be afraid of my
frightening anybody. I shall be everywhere and I shall hear
everything, but I shall be visible only to the loveliest woman who
ever graced this mansion. And now be off to bed without another word."

"If she hadn't gone," said old Applejoy's ghost to himself, "I
couldn't have helped giving her a good-night kiss."

The next morning, as Bertha told the story of her night's
adventures to her uncle, the face of John Applejoy grew paler and
paler. He was a hard-headed man, but a superstitious one, and when
Bertha told him of his grandfather's plum cake, the existence of which
he had believed was not known to anyone but himself, he felt it was
impossible for the girl to have dreamed these things. With all the
power of his will he opposed this belief, but it was too much for him,
and he surrendered. But he was a proud man and would not admit to his
niece that he put any faith in the existence of ghosts.

"My dear," said he, rising, his face still pale, but his expression
under good control, "although there is nothing of weight in what you
have told me--for traditions about my cellars have been afloat in the
family--still your pretty little story suggests something to me. This
is Christmastime and I had almost overlooked it. You are young and
lively and accustomed to the celebration of holidays. Therefore, I
have determined, my dear, to have a grand Christmas dinner and invite
our friends and their families. I know there must be good things in
the cellars, although I had almost forgotten them, and they shall be
brought up and spread out and enjoyed. Now go and send Mrs. Dipperton
to me, and when we have finished our consultation, you and I will make
out a list of guests."

When she had gone, John Applejoy sat down in his big chair and
looked fixedly into the fire. He would not have dared to go to bed
that night if he had disregarded the message from his grandfather.

Never had there been such a glorious Christmastime within the walls
of the old house. The news that old Mr. Applejoy was sending out
invitations to a Christmas dinner spread like wildfire through the
neighborhood. The idea of inviting people by families was considered a
grand one, worthy indeed of the times of old Mr. Tom Applejoy, the
grandfather of the present owner, who had been the most hospitable man
in the whole country.

For the first time in nearly a century all the leaves of the great
dining table were put into use, and the table had as much as it could
do to stand up under its burdens brought from cellar, barn, and
surrounding country. In the very middle of everything was the
wonderful plum cake which had been put away by the famous grandfather
of the host.

But the cake was not cut. "My friends," said Mr. John Applejoy, "we
may all look at this cake but we will not eat it! We will keep it just
as it is until a marriage shall occur in this family. Then you are all
invited to come and enjoy it!"

At the conclusion of this little speech old Applejoy's ghost patted
his grandson upon the head. "You don't feel that, John," he said to
himself, "but it is approbation, and this is the first time I have
ever approved of you!"

Late in the evening there was a grand dance in the great hall,
which opened with an old-fashioned minuet, and when the merry guests
were forming on the floor, a young man named Tom came forward and
asked the hand of Bertha.

"No," said she, "not this time. I am going to dance this first
dance with--well, we will say by myself!"

At these words the most thoroughly gratified ghost in all space
stepped up to the side of the lovely girl, and with his cocked hat
folded flat under his left arm, he made a low bow and held out his
hand. With his long waistcoat trimmed with lace, his tightly drawn
stockings and his buckled shoes, there was not such a gallant figure
in the whole company.

Bertha put out her hand and touched the shadowy fingers of her
partner, and then, side by side, she and the ghost of her great-
grandfather opened the ball. With all the grace of fresh young beauty
and ancient courtliness they danced the minuet.

"What a strange young girl," said some of the guests, "to go
through that dance all by herself, but how beautifully she did it!"

"Very eccentric, my dear!" said Mr. John Applejoy when the dance
was over. "But I could not help thinking as I looked at you that there
was nobody in this room that was worthy to be your partner."

"You are wrong there, old fellow!" was the simultaneous mental
ejaculation of young Tom Burcham and of old Applejoy's ghost.



THE END


Project Gutenberg Australia