Victorian Christmas: A Peculiar Atmosphere of Cranky Scholarship: 89

Episode Transcript
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(00:25):
This is a tale of the supernatural. It's the work of a man who
wrote ghost stories as a sideline.The author, Emma James, was an
archaeologist, medieval historian and a greatexpert on the early history of the Bible.
He was vice chancellor at Cambridge Universityduring the First World War and later
became the Professt of Eton, wherehe died in nineteen thirty six. He's

(00:47):
best known for his ghost stories,all of which have a peculiar atmosphere of
cranky scholarship. I couldn't resist therecording ages heard was from the innerd to
the BBC adaptation of the story.I will be reading and discussing tonight.
So this is episode eighty nine VictorianChristmas, a peculiar atmosphere of cranky scholarship,

(01:12):
and those tiktoks are one of mydogs walking around. I have my
apologies. Hi, this is Carla, and welcome back to their maybe cupcakes
after a long hiatus. Now's notthe time to discuss where I've been,
which means my health. I willand I've missed you in this and I
do have news, but for nowleave that alone and let us celebrate twelve

(01:37):
days of Christmas, as I liketo do with our favorite my and your
favorite types of episodes, the VictorianChristmas horror episodes. Huh so, what
are twelve days of Christmas? Youweird antiquarian slash episcopaan, You might ask,
well, Christmas is over, it'sthe twenty ninth. What are you
doing? I got you covered.Check out episode sixty seven Haunted Yule twelve

(01:59):
Days. I linked in the shownotes and I explain it all there.
You know, if there's a rabbithole, I fall down into it.
So, as the announcer with theluscious accent said, today, we returned
to the man who is credited withthe Victorian tradition of merging fear with this
season, Montague Roades James. Hewas one of the subjects of my first

(02:22):
Victorian Christmas episode, number thirty two, What the Dickens, which I've attached
to the end of this episode foryour listening enjoyment. During this liminal period
where no one knows what day itis and what they're supposed to be doing
with themselves, put down next year'splanner and turn off the lights. Pull
closer to the fire and hang outwith me for a little while. Nothing

(02:43):
needs to be tended to write atthis moment. Remember, James read these
stories to his students and friends bygaslight, candle light, and the fireside.
We have grown so accustomed to overheadlighting. I don't like we forgot
how very dark this era was was, with all its nooks and crannies hiding
silent servants and secrets, and godknows what else one detaur before we delve

(03:09):
into James's story. Since he wasa professor and this story is about just
such a character, I think hewould approve my being thorough if the title
of the nineteen oh three story I'mgoing to read to you a whistle and
I'll come to you, my ladsounds strangely familiar to you, but you're
not certain why. It's because Jamesdid take it from another source to highlight

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his Scottish setting and the melancholy menaceof his haunting the seventeen ninety three poem
turned song of Scottish poet Robert burnsNow. Even though I am a Stewart
and directly related to King James Sturemistress one of many mistresses, my accent

(03:51):
is all North Carolina, and asyou can hear, I'm little raspy right
now as well, not help itmatters. So I am not about to
read the whole thing or sing it. God No, but I will give
you the two verses, the firsttwo verses, and therefore the gist a
whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad, a whistle, and

(04:13):
I'll come to you, my lad, the father and mother, and I'll
shooge mad that Genie will venture withhe, my lad? But where are
they tent when you come to courtme? And none? And come they
unless the back be a gee,shine up the back style, and let
nobody say, and come as youwere not coming to me, And come
as you were not coming to me. So it's about stealthy courting. Eery

(04:36):
thought to keep in mind as Iread. One more fun note on historical
horror. Before it began, Jamesbrought us the evil Dead. Not really,
it's in this direct storytelling lineage hangwith me. He was the first
to abandon the gothic horror writing styleand set ghost stories in normal walka day

(04:56):
settings rather than crumbling castles and fogsand the mystery curious Moore with clutching bosoms
and crushing feelings and damsels and allthat, placing them instead in vacation spots
and neighbors homes in the backyard.The Jamison formula applies to Ash in the
Book of the Dead. Check thisout. Number one. An intriguing setting

(05:18):
that is full of character but differentto the protagonist, so like he's traveling,
studying, vacationing, visiting, likea cabin in the woods. Eh
right, number two and unassuming everyman as protagonist who has to rise to
the occasion. Ash just wanted togive his girlfriend a present and have some
weekend sex. Poor guy. Offtopic, I own a necklace similar to

(05:42):
that gift. After watching the originalEvil Dead with my best friend, I've
discussed mine and Josh is your turnmindturn routine of printing horn movies and watching
them together in high school and college. In eleventh grade, I think was
when we watched The Evil Dead,and then the next day I was in
the mall and I found a monocleslash magnifier necklace that looks strikingly similar,

(06:03):
made by that line that specializes inan antique look. It's called nineteen twenty
eight. I happily just discovered they'restill in business, so I linked them
in the show notes I found almostthe very same necklace on their website,
so I'll post it and the resourcespost on the website. So anyway,

(06:23):
I show up in school the nextday wearing that necklace from the movie and
properly spook Josh. Then then I'mproud, And that describes our friendship right
there, and that's probably who We'restill friends and I still have it.
I should wear it on my nexthorror convention. And number three, quoting

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directly from the good old Pedia ofWick because this is too perfect quote.
The discovery of an old book orother antiquarian object that somehow unlocks, calls
down the wrath, or at leastattracts the unwelcome attention of a supernatural menace,
usually from beyond the grave clatu veratanick too y'all. According to James

(07:06):
himself from his preface to the collectionMorco's Stories of an Antiquary, the story
must quote put the reader in theposition of saying to himself, if I'm
not very careful, something of thiskind may happen to me. In other
words, don't follow your instinct andpick up interesting items on the beach and
take them home, or play tapesor read diaries you find in your cabin,

(07:28):
as we shall see. Speaking ofwhich, let us head to the
Scottish wind swept beach in winter.I'm eager to take you, having really
missed reading to you, even withthis froggy smoker's voice. Grab your seat
and a cup of cocoa while sailor coffee, and sit nearer to the
fire or lounge further back in thedarkness. If you dare, let me

(07:49):
park my wheelchair by the hearth,as James would like to lean on the
mantle and read one of his mostfamous and beloved stories. Oh whistle,
and I'll come to you, mylad. Happy Christmas, my friends.

(08:33):
I suppose you will be getting awaypretty soon now full term is over.
A professor, said a person notin this story to the professor of Ontenography,
soon after they had sat down nextto each other at a feast in
the hospitable hall of Saint James College. The professor was young, neat and
precise in speech. Yes, hesaid, my friends have been making me

(08:54):
to take up golf this term,and I mean to go to the east
coast and point a fact to Bernstall. I dare say you know it for
week or ten days to improve mygame. I hope to get off tomorrow.
Oh, Parkins, said his neighbor. On the other side, if
you're going to Burnstowe, I wishyou would look at the sight of the
Templar's perceptory and let me know ifit will be any good to have a
dig there in the summer. Itwas, as you might suppose a person

(09:18):
of antiquarian pursuits who said this,But since he merely appears in this prolog,
there's no need to give his entitlements. Certainly, said Parkins. The
professor. If you will describe tome whereabouts this site is, I will
do my best to give you anidea of the lie of the land when
I get back, or I couldwrite to you about it if you will
tell me where you're likely to be. Don't trouble to do that, thinks.

(09:39):
It's only that I'm thinking of takingmy family in that direction in the
long and it occurred to me thatas very few of the English perceptories have
ever been properly planned, I mighthave an opportunity of doing something useful on
off days. The professor Ruther sniffedat the idea that planning out a perceptory
could be described as useful. Hisneighbor continued, the sight, I doubt

(10:00):
if there's anything showing above ground,must be down quite close to the beach
now. The sea has encroached tremendously, as you know, all along that
bit of coast. I should thinkfrom the map that it would be about
three quarters of a mile from theGlobebin at the north end of town.
Where are you going to stay?Well at the globe Bend. As a
matter of fact, said Parkins,I've engaged a room there. I couldn't

(10:22):
get in anywhere else. Most ofthe lodging houses are shut up in winter,
it seems, And as it is, they tell me that the only
room of any size I could reallyhave is a double bedded one, and
they haven't a corner in which tostore the other bed and so on.
But I must have a fairly largeroom, for I'm taking some books down
and mean to do a bit ofwork and all. And though I don't
quite fancy having an empty bed,not to speak of two, in what

(10:43):
I may call for the time beingin my study, I suppose I can
manage to rough it for the shorttime I am there. Do you call
having an extra bed in your room, roughing at Parkins, said a bluff
person opposite. Look here, Ishall come down for and occupy it for
a bit. It'll be company foryou. The professor quivered, but managed
to laugh in a courteous manner.By all means, Rogers, there's nothing

(11:07):
i'd like better, But I'm afraidyou would find it rather dull. You
don't play golf, do you?No? Thank Heaven, said rude mister
Rogers. Well, you see,when I'm not writing, I shall likely
be on the links, and thatI say would be rather dull for you.
I'm afraid. Oh, I don'tknow. There's certain to be somebody
I know in the place. Butof course, if you don't want me
speak the word, Parkins, Ishan't be offended. Truth, as you

(11:31):
always tell us, is never offensive. Perkins was indeed scrupulously polite and strictly
truthful. It is to be fearedthat mister Rogers sometimes practiced upon his knowledge
of these characteristics. In Parkins's breast. There was a conflict now raging,
which for a moment or two didnot allow him to answer. That interval
being over, he said, well, if you want the exact truth,

(11:54):
Rogers, I was considering whether theroom I speak of would really be large
enough to accommodate us both comfortably,and also whether mind I shouldn't have said
this. If you hadn't pressed me, you would not constitute something in the
nature of a hindrance to my work. Rogers laughed loudly. Well done,
Parkins, he said, it's allright. I promise not to interrupt your

(12:16):
work. Don't you disturb yourself aboutthat? No, I won't come if
you don't want me, But Ithought I should do so nicely to keep
the ghost off. Here, hemight have been seen to wink and nudge
his next neighbor, Parkins might alsohave been seen to become pink. I
beg pardon, Parkins. Rogers continued, I oughtn't have said that. I
forgot that you don't like levity onthese topics. Well, Perkins said,

(12:41):
as you have mentioned the matter,I freely own that I do not like
careless talk about what you call ghosts. A man in my position, he
went on, raising his voice,A little. Cannot I find be too
careful about peering to sanction the currentbeliefs on such subjects? As you know,
Rogers, or as you ought toknow, for I think I've never
consent sealed my view. No,you certainly have not, old man.

(13:03):
Put in Roger's subtle voice, Ihold that any somewhace, any appearance of
concession to the view that such thingsmight exist, is equivalent to a renunciation
of all that I hold most sacred. But I'm afraid I have not succeeded
in securing your attention. Your undividedattention was what doctor Blimber actually said,
Rogers interrupted, with every appearance ofan earnest desire for accuracy. But I

(13:28):
beg your pardon, Perkins, I'mstopping you. No, not at all,
said Perkins. I don't remember Blimber. Perhaps he was before my time.
But I needn't go on. I'msure you know what I mean.
Yes, yes, said Rogers,rather hastily. Just so we'll go into
it for fully, a Bernstourt somewherein repeating the above dialog, I've tried
to give the impression which it madeon me, that Parkins was something of

(13:48):
an old woman, rather handlike,perhaps in his little ways, totally destitute
alas of a sense of humor.But at the same time, daunt listened
sincere in his convictions, and aman deserving at the greatest respect, whether
or not the reader has gathered somuch. This was the character which Parkins
had. On the following day,Parkins did as he had hoped, succeeding

(14:09):
getting away from his college, andin arriving at Burnstowe, he was made
welcome at the Globein was safely installedin a large double bedded room which we
have heard, and was able,before retiring to rest, to arrange his
materials for work in apple Pie orderupon a commodious table which occupied the outer
end of the room and was surroundedon three sides by windows looking out seaward.

(14:33):
That is to say, the centralwindow looked straight out to sea,
and those on the left and rightcommanded prospects along the shore, the north
and south respectively. On the southhe saw the village of Burnstowe. On
the north, no houses were tobe seen, but only the beach and
low cliff backing it. Immediately inthe front was a strip not considerable of
rough grass, dotted with old anchors, capstands, and so forth. Then

(14:56):
a broad path, then the beach. Whatever may have in the original distance
between the globbin and the sea,not more than sixty yards now separated them.
The rest of the population of theinn was, of course a golfing
one, and included few elements thatcalled for a special description. The most
conspicuous figure was perhaps that of aChaan Mili mittaire, secretary of a Glendon

(15:18):
club, and possessed of a voiceof incredible strength and of views of a
pronouncedly Protestant type. These were aptto find utterance after his attendance upon the
ministrations of the Vicar, an estivalman with inclinations towards a picturesque ritual,
which he gallantly kept down as faras he could out of deference to East
Anglican tradition. Professor Parkins, oneof whose principal characteristics was pluck, but

(15:43):
the greater part of the day followinghis arrival at Burnstowe, in which he
had called improving his game in companywith this Colonel Wilson, and during the
afternoon, whether the process of improvementwere to blame or not, I am
not sure. The colonel's demeanor assumeda coloring so lurid that he even Parkins
jib didn't the thought of walking homewith him from the Lynx. He determined

(16:03):
after a short and furtive look atthat bristling mustache and those incarnateated beamed features,
that it would be wiser to allowthe influences of tea and tobacco to
do what they could with the Colonelbefore the dinner hour should render a meeting
inevitable. I might walk home alongthe beach, he reflected, Yes,
and take a look. They'll belight enough for that at the ruins at

(16:26):
which Dizzy was talking. I don'tknow exactly where they are, by the
way, but I expect I canhardly help stumbling upon them. This he
accomplished, I may say in themost literal sense, for in picking his
way from the Lynx to the ShingleBeach, his foot caught partly in a
gorse root and partly in a biggishstone, and over he went. When

(16:47):
he got up and surveyed his surroundings, he found himself in a patch of
somewhat broken ground, covered with smalldepressions and mounds. These ladder, when
he came to examine them, provedto be simply masses of flints, embittered
in mortar and grown over with turf. He must, he quite rightly concluded,
beyond the side of the preceptory hehad promised to look at. It
seemed not unlikely to reward this spadeof the explorer. Enough of the foundations

(17:10):
were probably left at no great depthsto throw a great deal of light on
the general plan. He remembered vaguelythat the templars to whom the sight had
belonged were in the habit of buildinground churches, and he thought a particular
series of the hump surmounts near himdid seem appear to be arranged in something
of a circular form. Few peoplecan resist the temptation to try a little
amateur research in a department quite outsidetheir own, if only for the satisfaction

(17:36):
of showing how successful they would havebeen had only they taken it up seriously.
Our professor, however, if hefelt something of this mean desire,
was also truly anxious to oblige misterDisney. So he paced with care of
the circular area he had noticed,and wrote down its rough dimensions in his
pocketbook. Then he proceeded to examinean oblong eminence, which lay east of
the center of the circle, andseemed, to his thinking likely to be

(18:00):
the base of a platform or altar. At one end of it. The
northern a patch of the turf wasgone, removed by some boy or other
creature faery natchery. It might,he thought, be well to probe the
soil here for evidences of masonry,and he took out his knife and began
scraping away the earth, And nowfollowed another little discovery. A portion of

(18:22):
the soil fell inward as he scrapedand disclosed a small cavity. He lighted
one match after another to help himsee of what nature the hole was,
but the wind was too strong forthem all. By tapping his scrape,
scratching the sides with his knife,however, he was able to make out
that it must be an artificial holein masonry. It was rectangular, and
the sides top and bottom, ifnot actually plastered, were smooth and regular.

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Of course, it was empty.No. As he withdrew the knife,
he heard a metallic clink, andwhen he introduced his hand met with
the cylindrical object lying on the floorof the hole. Naturally enough, he
picked it up, and when hebrought got it into the light, now
fast fading, he could see thatit, too was of man's making,
a metal tube about four inches longand evidently of some considerable age. By

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the time Perkins had made sure therewas nothing else in this odd receptacle,
it was too late and too darkfor him to think of undertaking any further
search. What he had done hadproved so unexpectedly interesting that he determined to
sacrifice a little more of the daylighton the morrow to archaeology. The object,
which he now had safe in hispocket, was bound to be of
some slight value, at least,he was sure. Bleak and solemn was

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now the view on which he tooka last look before starting homeward. A
faint yellow light in the west showedthe lynks, on which a few figures
moving toward the clubhouse were still visible, the squat Martello Tower, the lights
of Aldsey Village, the pale ribbonof sands, intersected at intervals by black
wooden groanings, the dim and murmuringsea. The wind was bitter from the

(19:53):
north, but was at his backwhen he set out for the globe.
He quickly rattled and clashed through theshingle and game the sand, upon which,
but for the groanings, which hadto be got over every few yards,
the going was both good and quiet. One last look behind to measure
the distance he had made since leavingthe ruined Templar's Church, showed him a

(20:14):
prospect of company on his walk,in the shape of a rather indistinct personage
who seemed to be making great effortsto catch up with him. But he
made little, if any progress.I mean that there was this appearance of
running about his movements, but thatthe distance between him and Parkins did not
seem materially to lessen. So atleast Parkins thought and decided that he almost

(20:36):
certainly did not know him, andthat it would be absurd to wait until
he came up. For all thatcompany, he began to think, would
be really very welcome on that lonelyshore, if only you could choose your
companion. In his unenlightened days,he had read of meetings at such places
which even now would hardly bear thinkingof. He went on thinking of that,

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however, until he reached home,and particularly of one which catches most
people's fancy at some time of theirchildhood. Now, in my dream,
that Christian had gone before a little, very little way, when he saw
a foul fiend coming over the fieldto meet him. What should I do
now? He thought, if Ilooked back and caught sight of a black

(21:22):
figure sharply defined against the yellow sky, and saw that it had horns and
wings, I wonder whether I shouldstand or run for it. Luckily,
the gentleman behind is under that kind, and he seems to be as bad
as far off as when I sawhim first. Well, at this rate,
he won't get his dinner as soonas I shall, and dear me,
it's within a quarter of an hourof the time. Now I'm his

(21:42):
run. Perkins had in fact verylittle time for dressing when he met the
colonel at dinner peace or as muchof her as that gentleman could manage rained
once wore in the military bosom,nor was she put to flight in the
hours of bridge that followed dinner.Parkins was a more than respectable player.

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When therefore he retired towards twelve o'clock. He felt that he had spent his
evening in quite a satisfactory way,and that even for so long as a
fortnight or three weeks, life atthe globe would be supportable under similar conditions.
Especially, thought he, if Igo on improve in my game.
As he went along the passages,he met the boots of the globe,
who stopped and said, beg yourpardon, sir, But I was a

(22:26):
brush in your coat just now therewas something fell out of the pocket.
I put it on a chester drawer, sir, in your room, sir,
a piece of pipe or somethink likethat, sir. Thank you,
sir. You'll find it on yourchester drawer, sir, Yes, sir,
Good night, sir. The speechserved to remind Parkins of his little
discovery. That afternoon. It waswith some considerable curiosity that he turned it
over. But the light of hiscandles, it was of bronze, he

(22:48):
now saw, and was shaped verymuch after the manner of the monern dog
whistle. In fact, it was, yes, it certainly was actually no
more or nor less than a whistle. He put it to his lips,
But it was quite full of afine caked up sand or earth, which
would not yield to knocking, butmust be loosened with a knife tidy as
zebr in his habits. Parkins cleanedout the earth onto a piece of paper,

(23:11):
and took the latter to a windowto empty it out. The night
was clear and bright, as hesaw when he opened the casement, and
He stopped for an instant to lookat the sea and note a belated wanderer
standing stationed on the shore in frontof the inn. Then he shut the
window, a little surprised at thelate hours people kept at Burnstow, and

(23:32):
took his whistle to the light again. Why surely there were marks on it,
and not merely marks, but letters. A very little rubbing rendered the
deeply cut inscription quite legible, butthe professor had to confess, after some
earnest thought that the meaning of itwas as obscure to him as the writing
on the wall. To Belshazzar.There were legends both on the front and

(23:55):
the back of the whistle. Theone read thus, furbis Phoebus. The
other queis s east qui vinet.I ought to be able to make it
out, he thought, But Isuppose I am a little rusty in my
Latin. When I come to thinkof it, I don't believe I even
know the word for a whistle.The long one seems simple enough. It

(24:18):
ought to mean who is this?Who is coming? Well? The best
way to find out is evidently towhistle for him? He blew tentatively and
stopped, suddenly startled and yet pleasedat the note he'd elicited. It had
a quality of infinite distance in it, and soft as it was, he
felt, somehow felt it must beaudible for miles around. It was a

(24:42):
sound, too, that seemed tohave the power which many scents possess,
of forming pictures in the brain.He saw quite clearly for a moment a
vision of a wide, dark expanseat night, with a fresh wind blowing,
and in the midst a lonely figure, how employed he could not tell.
Perhaps he would have seen more hadnot the picture been broken by the

(25:04):
sudden surge of a gust of windagainst his casement, so sudden that it
made him look up just in timeto see the white glint of a sea
bird's wing some somewhere outside the darkpanes. The sound of the whistle had
so fascinated him that he could nothelp trying it once more, this time
more boldly. The note was little, if at all, louder than before,

(25:26):
and repetition broke the illusion. Nopicture followed as he'd half hoped it
might. But what is this,goodness? What force the wind can get
up to in a few minutes,What a tremendous guss there. I knew
that window fastening was no use,ah, I thought, so both candles
out. It's enough to tear theroom to pieces. The first thing was
to get the window shut. Well, you might count to twenty. Perkins

(25:49):
was struggling with a small casement,and felt almost as if he were pushing
back a sturdy burglar. So strongwas the pressure. It slackened all at
once, and the window banged toand light. Now to relight the candles
and see what damage, if any, had been done. No, nothing
seemed to miss. No glass waseven broken in the casement, but the

(26:10):
noise had evidently roused at least onemember of the household. The Colonel was
to be heard stumping in his stockingfeet on the floor above, and growling
quickly as it had risen. Thewind did not fall at once. All.
It went moaning and rushing past thehouse, at times rising to a
cry, so desolate that, asParkins disinterestedly said, it might have made

(26:30):
fanciful people feel mine uncomfortable. Eventhe unimaginative, he thought, after a
quarter of an hour, might behappier without it. Whether it was the
wind or the excitement of golf,or of the researches of in the preceptory
that kept Parkins awake. He wasnot sure awake. He remained, in
any case, long after fancy asI am afraid I often do myself under

(26:55):
such conditions that he was the victimof all manner of fatal disorders. He
would lie counting the beats of hisheart, convinced it was going to stop
work every moment, and would entertaingrave suspicions of his lungs, brain,
liver, et cetera. Suspicions whichhe was sure would be dispelled by the
return of daylight, but which untilthen refused to be put aside. He

(27:17):
found a little vicarious comfort in theidea that some one else was in the
same boat, a near neighbor.In the darkness, it was not easy
to tell his direction was tossing andrustling in his bed too. The next
stage was that Parkins shut his eyesand determined to give sleep every chance.
Here again, over excitement asserted itselfin another form, that of making pictures.

(27:41):
Experdo crede. Pictures do come tothe closed eyes of one trying to
sleep, and are often so littleto his taste that he must open his
eyes and disperse them. Parkins's experienceon this occasion was a very distressing one.
He found that the picture which presenteditself was continuous when he opened his
eyes, of course, as itwent, but when he shut them once

(28:02):
more, it framed itself afresh andacted itself out again, neither quicker nor
slower than before. What he sawwas this long stretch of shore, shingle
edged by sand and intersected at shortintervals with black groins running down to the
water, a scene, in fact, so like that of his afternoon's walk,

(28:22):
that in the absence of any landmark, it could not be distinguished.
Therefrom the light was obscure, conveyingan impression of gathering storm, late winter
evening and slight cold rain on thisbleak stage. At first no actor was
visible. Then in the distance abobbing black object appeared a moment more,

(28:42):
and it was a man running,jumping, clambering over the groins, and
every few seconds looking eagerly back.The nearer he came, the more obvious
it was that he was not onlyanxious, but even terribly frightened. Though
his face was not to be distinguished, he was moreover, almost at the
end of his strength. On hecame, each successive obstacle seeming to cause

(29:04):
him more difficulty than the last.Will he get over this next one,
thought Parkins. It seems a littlehigher than the others. Yes, half
climbing, half throwing himself, hedid get over and fell all in a
heap on the other side, theside nearest to the spectator. There as
if really unable to get up again, he remained crouching under the groin,

(29:26):
looking up in an attitude of painfulanxiety. So far, no cause whatsoever
for the fear of the runner hadbeen shown. But now there began to
be seen far up the shore,a little flicker of something light colored,
moving to and fro with great swiftnessand irregularity, rapidly growing larger. It

(29:47):
too, declared itself as a figurein pale, fluttering draperies, ill defined.
There was something about its motion whichmade Parkins very unwilling to see it
at close quarters. It would stop, raise arms, bow itself towards the
sand, then run, stooping acrossthe beach to the water's edge and back
again, and then rising upright oncemore continuance course forward at a speed that

(30:11):
was startling and terrifying The moment camewhen the pursuer was hovering about from left
to right, only a few yardsbeyond the groin where the runner lay in
hiding. After two or three ineffectualcastings hither and thither, it came to
a stop, stood upright with armsraised high, and then darted straightforward towards
the groin. It was at thispoint that Parkins always failed in his resolution,

(30:33):
his eyes shut. With many misgivingsas to insipient failure of eyesight,
overwort, brain, excessive smoking,and so on, he finally resigned himself
to light his candle, get outa book, and pass the night waking,
rather than be tormented by this persistentpanorama, which he saw clearly enough
could only be a morbid reflection ofhis walk and his thoughts on that very
day. The scraping of match onbox and the glare of light must have

(30:56):
startled some creatures of the night ratsor whatnot. But she heard scurry across
the floor from the side of hisbed with much rustling, dare to tear
the matches out, fool that itis. But the second one burnt better,
and a candle and book were dulyprocured, over which parkins poured until
sleep of a wholesome kind came uponhim, and that in no long space.

(31:18):
For about the first time in hisorderly and prudent life, he forgot
to blow out the candle, andwhen he was called next morning at eight,
there was still a flicker in thesocket and a sad mess of guttered
grease on top of the little table. After breakfast, he was in his
room putting the finishing touches to hisgolfing costume. Fortune again had allotted the
colonel to him as a partner,when one of the maids came in,

(31:40):
Oh, if you please, shesaid, would you like any extra blankets
on your bed? Sir? Ithank you, said Perkins. Yes,
I think I should like one.It seems likely to turn colder. In
a very short time, the maidwas back with the blanket. Which bed
should I put it on? Sir? She asked? What? Why that
one? The one I slept inlast night? He said, pointing to
it. Oh, yes, Ibeg your pardon, sir. But you

(32:01):
seem to have tried both of themleast aways. We had to make both
of them up this morning. Reallyam very absurd, said Perkins. I
certainly never touched the other except tolaying some things on it. Did it
actually seem to have been slept in? Oh yes, sir, said the
mate. Why all the things werecrumpled and thrown about? Always? If
you excuse me, sir, quiteif any one hadn't passed but a very

(32:22):
poor night, sir, dear me, said Perkins. Well, I may
have disordered it more than I thoughtwhen I impacked my things. I'm very
sorry to have given you the extratrouble. I'm sure. I expect a
friend of mine soon, by theway, a gentleman from Cambridge, to
come and occupy it for a nightor two. That'll be all right,
I suppose, won't it. Oh, yes, to be sure, sir.

(32:42):
Thank you, sir, it's notrouble. I'm sure, said the
maid, and departed to giggle aboutit with her colleagues. Parkins set forth
with a stern determination to improve hisgame. I am able to report that
he succeeded so far in this enterprisethat the colonel, who had been rather
repining at the prospect of a secondday's play in his company, became quite
shabby as the morning advanced, andhis voice boomed out over the flats as

(33:06):
certain also of our own minor poetshas said, like some great Baudon in
a Minster tower, extraordinary when thatwe had last night, he said,
in our my old home, weshould have said someone had been whistling for
it? Should you? Indeed,said Perkins, Is there a superstition of
that kind still current? You're partof the country. I don't know about
superstition, said the colonel. Theybelieve it all over in Denmark and Norway

(33:30):
as well on the Yorkshire coast.And my experiences, mind you, that
there's generally something at the bottom ofwhat these country folk called to and have
held to for generations. But it'syour drive or whatever it might have been.
The golfing reader will have to imagineappropriate digressions at the proper intervals.
When conversation was resumed, Parkins said, with a slight hesitancy, after Poe

(33:52):
of what your change is now,Colonel, I think I ought to tell
you that my own views on suchsubjects are strong. I am, in
fact convinced disbeliever in what is calledthe supernatural? What said the colonel,
Do you mean to tell me youdon't believe it's second sight or ghosts of
anything of that kind, and nothingwhatsoever of that kind, returned Perkins firmly.

(34:15):
Well, said the colonel, Butit appears to me at that rate,
sir, that you must beat alittle better than a sadducee. Perkins
was on the point of answering that, in his opinion, the sadducees were
the most sensible persons he never readof in the Old Testament. But feeling
some doubt that's whether much mention ofthem were to be found into that work,
he preferred to laugh the accusation off. Perhaps I am, he said,

(34:37):
But here give him my clique.Boy. Excuse me a moment,
colonel, a short interval. Now, as to whistling for the wind,
let me give you my theory aboutit. The laws which governed winds are
really not all perfectly known to fisherfolk at such, of course, not
known at all. A man orwoman of eccentric habits, perhaps, or
a stranger, is seen repeatedly onthe beach at usual hour, and it's

(35:00):
heard whistling. Soon afterwards, aviolent wind arises. The man who could
read this guy perfectly, or whopossessed a barometer, could have foretold it.
It would the simple people of afishing village have no barometers, and
only a few rough rules for prophesying. Whether what more natural than the eccentric
person I postulated should be regarded ashaving raised the wind, or that he

(35:22):
or she could clutch eagerly at thereputation of being able to do so.
Now take last night's wind as ithappens, I myself was whistling. I
blew a whistle twice, and thewind seemed to come absolutely in answer to
my call. If anyone had seenme. The audience had been a little
restive under this harangue, and Perkins'shad I fear fallen somewhat into the tone

(35:43):
of a lecturer. But at thelast sentence the colonel stopped whistling. Were
you, he said, And whatsort of whistle did you use? Play
this stroke first golf in a room? About that whistle, you were asking,
Colonel, it's rather a curious one. I have it in my Oh,
no, I see, I've leftat my room. As a matter
of fact, I found it yesterday. And then Perkins had narrated the manner

(36:05):
of his discovery of the whistle,upon hearing which the colonel grunted and opined
that in Perkins's place, he shouldbe careful about using a thing that had
belonged to a set of papists,of whom, speaking generally, it might
be affirmed that you never knew whatthey had not might been up to.
From this topic, he diverged tothe enormities of the vicar, who had

(36:27):
given notice on the previous Sunday thatFriday would be the feast of Saint Thomas
the Apostle, and there would beservice at eleven o'clock in the church.
This and other similar proceedings constituted,in the Colonel's view a strong presumption that
the Vicar was a concealed papist,if not a Jesuit, and Perkins,
who could not very readily follow thecolonel in this region, did not disagree

(36:50):
with him. In fact, itgot on so well together in the morning
that there was not talk on eitherside of their separating after lunch. Both
continued to play well during the afternoon, well enough to make them forget everything
else until the light began to failthem. Not until Daniel Perkins remember that
he had meant to do some moreinvestigating at the preceptory, but it was
no great importance, he reflected,one day is good as another. He

(37:13):
might as well go home with thecolonel. As he turned the corner of
the house, the colonel was almostknocked down by a boy who rushed into
him at the very top of hisspeed, and then, instead of running
away, remained hanging on to himand panting. The first words of the
warrior were naturally those of reproof andobjuration, but very quickly discerned that the
boy was almost speechless of fright.Inquiries were useless at first. When the

(37:37):
boy got his breath, he beganto howl and still clung to the colonel's
legs. He was at last detached, but continued to howl. What in
the world does the matter with you? What have you been up to?
What have you seen? Said thetwo men. Oh, I've seen it,
waving me out the window. Well, the boy and I don't like
it. What window, said theirritated colonel. Come put yourself together,

(37:58):
my boy, the front window.It was at the hotel, said the
boy. At this point Perkins wasin favor of sending the boy home,
but the colonel refused. He wantedto get to the bottom of it.
He said, it was most dangerousto give a boy such a fright as
this one it had, and ifit turned out people had been playing jokes,
they should suffer for it in someway. And by a series of
questions he made out this story.The boy had been playing about in the

(38:20):
grass in front of the globe withsome others. Then they had gone home
to their teas, and he wasjust going when he happened to look up
at the front winder and seen ita wiving' at him. It seemed to
be a figure of some sort,and white as far as he knew,
couldn't see its face, but itwived at him, and it warn't a
right thing, not to say aright person. Was there a light in
the room. No, he didn'tthink to look if there was a light,

(38:44):
which was the window was at thetop one of the second one.
The second one was the big window, which got two little in the sides.
Very well, my boy, saidthe colonel, after a few more
questions. You run away home now. I expect it was some person trying
to give you a start another time, like a brave English boy, you
just throw a stone, would no, not that exactly. But you go

(39:04):
and speak to the waiter or misterSimpson, the landlord, and yes,
and say that I advise you todo so. The boy's face expressed some
of the doubt he felt as tothe likelihood of mister Simpson's lending a favorable
ear to his complaint, but thecolonel did not seem to appear to perceive
this, and went on, andhere's a sixpence. Oh no, I
see, it's a shilling, andyou'd be off home and don't think anywhere

(39:25):
about it. The youth hurried offwith agitated thanks, and the colonel and
Perkins went around to the front ofthe globe and recon ordered. There was
only one window, answering to thedescription they had been hearing. Well,
that's curious, said Perkins. It'sevidently my window the lap was talking about.
Will you come up for a minute, Colonel Wilson. We ought to
be able to see if anyone hasbeen taking liberties in my room. They

(39:47):
were soon in the passage, andPerkins made as if to open the door
that he stopped and felt in hispockets. This is more serious than I
thought, was his next remark.I remember now, before I started this
morning, I locked the door.It is locked now, and what's more,
here is the key. And heheld it up now, he went
on, if the servants are inthe habit of going in one's room during

(40:08):
the day when one is away,I can only say that, well,
I don't approve of that at all. Conscious of a somewhat weak climax,
he busied himself in opening the door, which was indeed locked, and in
lighting candles. No, he said, nothing seems disturbed except your bed put
in the colonel, excuse me,that isn't my bed, said Perkins.

(40:30):
I don't use that one, butit does look as someone who's been playing
tricks with it. It certainly did. The clothes were bundled up and twisted
together in a most torturous confusion.Parkets pondered, that must be it,
he said, at last, Idisordered the clothes last night in packing,
and they haven't made it since.Perhaps they came in to make it and

(40:51):
the boy saw them through the windowand then they were called away and locked
the door after them. Yeah,I think that must it. Well,
ring an ass said the colonel,disappealed to Perkins as practical. The maid
appeared, and, to make along story short, deposed that she had
made the bed in the morning whenthe gentleman was in the room and hadn't
been there since. No, shehadn't any other key, Mister Simpson,

(41:13):
he kept the keys. He'd beable to tell the gentleman if anyone had
been up. This was a puzzle. In investigations showed that nothing of value
had been taken, and Perkins rememberedthe disposition of the small objects on tables
and so forth well enough to bepretty sure that no pranks have been played
with them. Mister and missus Simpsonfurthermore agreed that neither of them had given

(41:34):
the duplicate key of the room toany person whatever during the day. No
good Perkins, very fair minded man, as he was detect anything in the
demeanor of master, mistress or maidthat indicated guilt. He was much more
inclined to think that the boy hadbeen imposing on the colonel. The latter
was unwontonly silent and pensive at dinnerand throughout the evening. When he begged
good night to Perkins, he murmured, in a gruff, ownder tone,

(41:58):
you know where I am If youwant me during the night, Well,
yes, thank you, Colonel Wilson. I think I do. But there
isn't much prospect of my disturbing you, I hope, by the way,
he added, did I show youthat old westle I spoke of? I
think not. Well, here itis. The Colonel turned it over gingerly
in the light of the candle.Can you make anything up the inscription,

(42:19):
asked, Parkins says he took itback. No, not in this light.
What do you mean to do withit? Oh? Well, when
I get back to Cambridge, Ishall submit it to some of the archaeologists
there and see what they think ofit, and very likely, if they
consider it worth having, I maypresent it to a museum. Mm pluted
the colonel. Well, you maybe right. All I know is if
it were mine I should chuck itstraight into the sea. It's no use

(42:43):
talking, I'm well aware, butI expect that if with you, it's
a case to live and learn.I hope so, I'm sure, and
I wish you good night. Heturned away, leaving Parkinson the act to
speak at the bottom of the stairs, and soon each was in his own
bedroom. By some unfortunate accident,there were neither blinds nor curtains to the
windows of the Professor's room. Theprevious night. He had thought little of

(43:05):
this, but tonight there seemed everyprospect of a bright moon rising to shine
directly on his bed and probably wakehim later on. When he noticed this,
he was a great deal annoyed,But with an ingenuity which I can
only envy, he succeeded in riggingup, with the help of a railway
rug, some safety pins, anda stick and umbrella, a screen which,
if it only held together, wouldcompletely keep the moonlight off his bed,

(43:28):
and shortly afterwards he was comfortably inthat bed. When he had read
a somewhat solid work long enough toproduce a decided wish to sleep, he
cast a drowsy glance around the room, blew out the candle, and fell
back upon the pillow. He musthave slept soundly for an hour or more
when a sudden clatter shook him upin a most unwelcome manner. In a

(43:50):
moment, he realized what had happened. His carefully constructed screen a given way,
and a very bright, frosty moonwas shining directly on his face.
This was highly annoyed. Could hepossibly get up and reconstruct the screen,
or could he manage to sleep ifhe did not. For some minutes he
lay and pondered all over all thepossibilities. Then he turned over sharply,

(44:12):
and with his eyes open, laybreathlessly listening. There had been a movement,
he was sure, in the emptybed on the opposite side of the
room. Tomorrow he would have itmoved, for there must be rats or
something plain about in it. Itwas quiet now, No, the commotion
began again. There was a rustlingand shaking, surely more than any rat

(44:34):
could cause. I can figure tomyself something in the professor's bewilderment and horror,
for I hadn't a dream thirty yearsback seen the same thing happen.
But the reader will hardly perhaps imaginehow dreadful it was to him to see
a figure suddenly sit up in whathe had known to be an empty bed.
He was out of his own bedin one bound, and made a

(44:55):
dash for the window, where layhis only weapon, the stick with which
he had his screen. This was, as it turned out, the worst
thing he could have done, becausethe personage in the empty bed, with
a sudden, smooth motion, slippedfrom the bed and took up a position
with outspread arms between the two bedsand in front of the door. Perkins

(45:16):
watched in a hard perplexity. Somehowthe idea of getting past it escaping through
the door was intolerable to him.He could not have borne. He didn't
know why to touch it, andas for it touching him, he would
sooner dash himself through the window thanhave that happen. It stood for the

(45:36):
moment in a band of dark shadow, and he had not seen what its
face was like. Now it beganto move in a stooping posture, and
all at once the spectator realized,with some horror and some relief, that
it must be blind, for itseemed to feel about it with its muffled
arms in a groping and random fashion. Turning half away from him, it

(46:00):
became suddenly conscious of the bed hejust left, and darted towards it,
and bent and fell over the pillowsin a way which made Parkins shudder,
as he never in his life thoughtit possible. In a very few moments,
it seemed to know that the bedwas empty, and then, moving
forward into the area of light andfacing the window, it showed for the

(46:20):
first time what manner of thing itwas. Perkins, who very much dislikes
being questioned about it, now didonce describe something of it in my hearing,
and I gathered that what he chieflyremembers about it is a horrible,
an intensely horrible face of crumpled linen. What expression he read upon it,

(46:45):
he could not or would not tell, but that the fear of it went
nigh to maddening him is certain.But he was not at leisure to watch
it for long. With formidable quickness, it moved into the middle in the
room, and as it grew OpEdand waved, when corner of its drapery
swept across Perkins's face, he couldnot. Though he knew how perilous the

(47:07):
sound was, he could not keepback a cry of disgust, and this
gave the searcher an instant clue.It leaped towards him upon the instant,
and the next moment he was halfwaythrough the window, backwards, uttering cry
upon cry at the utmost pitch ofhis voice, and the linen face was
thrust close upon his own. Atthis almost the last possible second deliverance came.

(47:30):
As you will have guessed, theColonel burst the door open and was
just in time to see the dreadfulgroup at the window. When he reached
the figures only one was left.Perkins sank forward into the room in a
faint, and before him, onthe floor lay a tumbled heap of bedclothes.
Colonel Wilson asked no questions, butbusied himself and keeping everyone outside of
the room, and getting Perkins backto his bed, and himself wrapped in

(47:52):
a rug occupied the other bed forthe rest of the night. Early on
the next day, Rogers arrived,more welcome than he would have been the
day day before, and the threeof them held a very long consultation in
the Professor's room. At the endof it, the Colonel left the hotel
door carrying a small object between hisfinger and thumb, which he cast as
far into the sea as a verybrawny arm could send it. Later on,

(48:15):
the smoke of a burning ascended fromthe back premises of the globe.
Exactly what explanation was patched up forthe staff and visitors at the hotel,
I must confess I do not recollect. The professor was somewhat cleared of the
ready suspicion of DARRILYM. Trendon's andthe hotel of the reputation of a troubled
house. There was not much questionas what would have happened to Parkins If

(48:37):
the Colonel had not intervened when hedid, he would either have fallen out
the window or else lost his wits. But it is not so evident what
more the creature that came in toanswer to the whistle could have done him
frightened. There seemed to be absolutelynothing material about it save the bedclothes of
which it had made itself a body. The colonel, who remembered a not

(48:58):
very dissimilar currents and in India,was of the opinion that if Perkins had
closed it with it, it couldhave really had done very little, and
that its one power was a frightening. The whole thing, he said,
served to confirm his opinion of theChurch of Rome. There is really nothing
more to tell, But as youmay imagine, the Professor's views on certain

(49:20):
points are less clear cut than theyused to be. His nerves, too,
have suffered. He cannot even nowsee a surplice hanging on a door
quite unmoved, and the spectacle ofa scarecrow in a field laid on a
winter afternoon has cost him more thanone sleepless night. Did you enjoy that?

(50:09):
I hope? So still warm?I like how James is not as
oblique as other Victorian writers, teasingthe reader with what happened, so that
you're left with this odd feeling ofwell, yes, that was something spooky.
I just read what But there area couple of things I want to
tease out because duh, it's me. And then I'll tell you about the

(50:31):
adaptations of this story, two ofwhich are you're available to stream online.
First, to speak to the Latin, I read it is written on the
page as almost a word puzzle,with the fur on the left, the
beasts on the right, and thenthe flaw and the fleet in the middle,
one over the other. So Ilooked up exactly how to read this
aloud. Quote from Rosemary Pardo,horror author and Mr. James historian.

(50:55):
There is some disagreement as to whetherthe words should be fer beasts labis Phlebey's
are fur flabeist Plebe's. I hadalways thought the former was most likely,
until someone pointed out that H.E. Lucksmore, who was present in
m R. James reading of thetale in December nineteen oh three, referred
to the study to the story underthe title fur phlebus. This is pretty

(51:20):
conclusive evidence. I think that thesecond reading is correct, and this is
what m R James said when heactually spoke the inscription. Both are,
of course Latin. The first wouldread you will steal, you will blow,
you will weep, but ferbes wouldnot be the correct Latin this constant
context, since ferrari to steal isa verb in the passive form. The

(51:40):
second more likely reads O thief,you will blow, you will weep,
or in other words, thief.If you blow this whistle, you'll be
sorry. It's just possible that aswell, that that's the chief meaning.
M R James also intended a punningreference to beasts, which is twice,
since that's the number of times thewhistle is blonde. One thing that struck

(52:00):
me is there is a bear withme. This is gonna be touchy.
There's a design flanking the Latin thatsays who is the one that is coming?
QUI s e steak queen in itthat is, well, hang here,
it's a modified squastica. It's backwardsand then it has a little design

(52:22):
at the end. I know that'sa loaded word more now than ever before,
but just hang with me. Itwasn't always a hateful symbol. And
it's appropriated as such. And thestory is written in nineteen o three.
Uh my research I could do fromhome. I couldn't get out to UVA
or Lynchborough College. Uh didn't comeup with anything. So if you know,

(52:45):
please let me know via email atCarla if there might be cupcakes dot
com, or by contacting me atthe Patreon of the substack. Both are
in the show notes. I'm gonnapost the image from the book at both
places. If you're on Patreon.The image is included in the episode's script
within the story, but I'm goingto also post it separately in a post.

(53:05):
Okay, that's all of that.A couple notes on references within the
story, because I'm me and that'swhy I have a podcast. Belshazzar.
This story comes from book five ofthe biblical Book of Daniel and is quite
eerie. It's also our source forthis day saying. The Writing on the
Wall, a disembodied hand appears duringthe King's feast and writes mysterious words of

(53:30):
warning on the past palace wall.Can you imagine? The upcoming announced at
festival will be in honor of theApostle Saint Thomas, Saint Thomas is also
known as Doubting Thomas. Have funwith that as you will. This quote
comes from John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress,a Christian parable, which is also featured
prominently in Luisa may Alcott's Little Womena bet a man named Christian facing his

(53:52):
life as an allegory of a journey. Now, I saw in my dream
that Christian had gone but a verylittle way, when he's a foul fiend
coming here of the field to meethim. Finally, from the nineteen sixty
adaptation, the quote which IM gonnatalk about in a second, the quote
about heaven and philosophy that the professorplays with and turns inside out, is

(54:14):
of course Shakespeare from Hamlett and hisShare taught Us and Clueless. That was
laterities, not Hamlet that said that, duh. Quick notes on three adaptations.
This is the most frequently adapted ofhis stories, the only multiple I
have listed. I linked the listof all the adaptation credits as original writer

(54:35):
on Letterbox and the show notes,and it will be up on the website
as well. Letterbox will let youknow for each one where it can be
rented, purchased, or streamed.It's a great resource. All right.
The nineteen fifty six experimental version trimsthe entire story down to its bare bones.
It's only ten minutes long. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be available

(54:57):
anywhere right now, not even archivedot org. I'd love to watch it
because I'm curious about it's editing andframing as well. It's silent as well
as black and white. Doug Aldridge, who was not credited with any other
movie, played the Professor. Nocrew were credited, only that it came
from the North Downs Cinemagraphic Society.If you sort my popularity under m R

(55:20):
James, the nineteen sixty BBC ChristmasHorror Series version pops to the top.
If you don't live in the UK, you might have learned about this yearly
tradition by watching the marvelous foulk horrorhistory documentary Woodland's Dark and Days Bewitched The
History of Foulkore. You can findthat and there might be cupcakes list on
letterbox. I'm user Clara Dox.Feel free to follow me and that user

(55:44):
name Clara Dox. It's like paradox, but Clara comes from Josh my name
because my name Carla anagrams to Claraand I'm a weirdo. So I'm a
paradox. Yeah, we're both strange. In that list is every movie I
have reference on the podcast with linkstherefore to that episode. So just go

(56:07):
to my profile, click on listsand it should be the top. Sir
Michael Horndon plays Professor Perkins in thenineteen sixties version, and I adore him.
He was a voice actor in Labyrinthand Watershit Down a major capulet,
and Alan Rickman's version of William andJuliette. The narrator for all those sweet

(56:29):
Paddington the Bear stop action films frommy childhood. If you're my age,
you might remember some of them beingshown during Captain Kangaroo and in so many
movies. He's literally that guy fromthat thing. You'll know his face as
soon as you see him. Andhe was knighted for his work in the
British theater in nineteen eighty three.But for me, okay, I'm gonna

(56:52):
get mushi here. He will alwaysbe one of the kind men, one
of the only kind men, andone of my favorite movies. In Lady
Jane, he plays the historical confessorto Jane Gray as she struggles with her
faith, her forced marriage, herintellect in the world that did not support
it, and a heavy crown thatshe did not wish to bear, but

(57:13):
that she was willing to die tohonor. Doctor Feckenham was the only person
she could confide in beside her husbandin the end. And I almost couldn't
bear to see Horden terrified watching theWhistle. Watching that version of Whistle,
I wanted a spirit to leave doctorFeckenham alone, Leave Brittany alone. This

(57:34):
version, which is on YouTube andit's linked in the show notes, it's
much closer to the original story.The twenty ten version takes a new inspiration
and direction with this horror, butthis version still explores the character in an
interesting way which is not found inthe story. The Professor, like you
know, doctor Feckenham, likes readingand he takes too many books with him

(57:59):
on vaccasion. He likes eating theSAME's foods repeatedly. He likes playing with
words and talking to himself even onopportune times. He's also extremely socially awkward,
and his mind is always going,going, going, going, going.
So we're a lot alike, iswhat I'm saying. So one morning
for the BBC version if you sufferfrom mesophomia phonia. The nineteen sixty version

(58:24):
has a lot of chewing in general, mouth noises in general. It's more
sound than dialogue, and the professoreats a lot and talks what eating,
and hums and haws to himself alot. Okay. As we come to
the John Hurt twenty ten version,which is amazing but not precisely true to

(58:45):
the original story, I give itanother warning. This one deals frankly with
the subject of dementia and grace.If you're not in a head space to
deal with these themes right now,that's fine. I would suggest not watching
this adaptation at all. We're listeningto perhaps the next maybe three minutes or
so of this episode. The endof it is when I speak of the
dignity for the dead. Always takegood care of yourself. It's just a

(59:08):
podcast. It's not that important,okay. Just some interesting things that came
to me as I was watching thefascinating John Hurt double room for a single
person, combined with the gist ofthe story, maybe the ways in which
we invite others into our lives,healthy and not healthy. Going back to

(59:29):
the Professor being alone and seemingly anintrovert, and if we are careful doing
this, and as we should carefulabout whom. And then on the spiritual
side, what makes us human?Are we human when we still live,
even when our memories our minds betrayus? Are when we become trapped inside

(59:50):
our bodies for some horrible reason?Are we still human? Then when we've
died but our spirit remains? Quotefrom this verson, how long were you
alone waiting for someone to find you? And how much respect to do both
deserve? Spirit alone, body seeminglyalone. Ryan Buell, who's formerly of

(01:00:13):
the television show Paranormal State and isa controversial figure now, made an interesting
philosophical point in his book when hespoke against so called haunted tourism, such
as when I investigated Weaverly Hill's sanatoriumand I talked about that experience in episode
four and things that go bump inthe night. He spoke of this as

(01:00:36):
a kind of exploitation of the dead, somehow making them perform for the living.
I'm not certainly I agree, becauseif ghosts slash spirits are human,
they still have agency. Right.My only caveat would be is that if
investigative practices are somehow trapping them here. That's a thought, but that,

(01:00:59):
yeah, he certainly made me think. I definitely do not like when peril
investigators don't speak as if they're speakingto other humans when investigating your haunting.
You know, please and thank youwhen they're asking for a response or action,
for example, and not screaming explicatorswhen they get what they want.
But that's another day. He thinksI'm going too deep down the rabbit hole,

(01:01:23):
given where the wristle is recovered inthe original story and in the nineteen
sixty version. And you'll see whatI mean when you watch it. This
idea of dignity for the dead reallyis something to ponder, you know,
horrors a lot deeper than non fansthink it is. All right, One
last theme and thought to the story, brought up to me by the twenty

(01:01:45):
ten version, would be are weever truly alone? And do how do
we know? I'll leave you withthat chilling thought at the fire before episode
thirty two What the Dickens begins withthis further quote about the proper ghost story
from James himself. It comes fromhis preface to the anthology Ghost and Monsters.

(01:02:05):
Oh on that note, they'll tryto chase all of his stories down.
They are compiled all together in twolovely volumes published by Penguin or in
one kindle e book, and I'velinked them in the show notes. If
you snag the Penguins from book lights, you help up podcast and independent bookstores.
I'm just saying, anyway, backto James quote, two ingredients most

(01:02:30):
valuable in the concocting of a ghoststory are to me, the atmosphere and
the nicely managed crescendo. Let usthen be introduced to the actors in a
placid way. Let us see himgoing about their ordinary business, undisturbed by
forebodings, pleased with their surroundings.And then into this calm environment, let

(01:02:50):
the ominous thing put out its head, unobtrusively at first, and then more
insistently until it holds the stage.Clatu and have Christmas and happy New Year.
Y'all. Welcome to episode thirty two. If there might be cupcakes,

(01:03:37):
what the dickens. This is yourhost, Carla, and today, on
this day between the Solstice and Christmas, we're gonna celebrate Christmas. Victorian way.
No I have not brought was sailnor knock and no no carrollers a
ride at the door. Though allthose traditions were started by the Victorians.
You know, with me, it'sgonna get a little strange the very best

(01:04:00):
way. So we're going to celebrateYule and Christmas with my favorite Victorian tradition,
scary stories. That's right. Therereally is a horror subgenre called Christmas
horror, and it was started bythe Victorians, the people we associate with
fussiness about sex and strict societal strata. I know you don't believe me.
You probably think I've been imbibing onbourbon cupcake icing, which is a thing,

(01:04:24):
you know, But it's true.And I'll bet everyone listening knows one
Victorian Christmas horror story. You do, because the most famous of all is
a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.Really really look at it, ghosts,
ghoules, fear terror, to quotethe Goonies for my friend Brent from the
Sofa King podcast, Dead Things,Mikey, Dead Things. It's been softened

(01:04:48):
through familiarity, Bill Murray and muppets, but it really is a pretty horrific
tale. If you've never read it, or you're in the mood to revisit
it. It's my audible recommendation forthis episode narrated by the sublime Tim Curry.
Just go to audibletrial dot com slashmight be Cupcakes and choose it as

(01:05:08):
your free book to keep when yousign up for your thirty damn membership trial.
Tim Curry is one of the bestaudiobook narrators out there, and he
and Dickens's novel were made for eachother. Okay, The forerunners of this
horrific Christmas tradition were Dickens and mR James. Charles Dickens actually wrote five
horror novels for Christmas Tide A ChristmasCarol in eighteen forty three, The Chimes

(01:05:33):
in eighteen forty four, The Cricketon the Hearth eighteen forty five, The
Battle of Life eighteen forty six,and The Haunted Man eighteen forty eight,
plus the short story The Signalman eighteensixty six. A Christmas Carol was originally
released in serial form in a periodicaljust before Christmas in eighteen forty three,

(01:05:55):
which was the very same year thatthe first commercially produced Christmas cards were sold
and sent out. Mr James,who at the time was the Provost of
King's College in Cambridge, would havehis servants make wastele and eggnock, and
would invite friends and select students ofhis to his rooms on Christmas Eve,
where he would gather them before thefire and read to them a scary story

(01:06:15):
he had written just for the occasion. These stories are all anthologized in the
two volume set Go Stories for ofan Antiquity, and I will link to
them in this episode's website entry.The following story is one of those entitled
simply a school story. So closeyour eyes and imagine we are in a

(01:06:38):
dark yet cozy gentleman Victorian quarters,all dark woods and velvets. The servants
have stoked the fire to a pleasantblaze. It and the candles are the
only illumination. The gas lights havebeen lowered for this occasion. Through the
mullioned window frame, you can seethe driving snow in the dusk. The

(01:06:59):
side is thrilling and a little eerie. It makes you feel both warm and
cozy and chilled and nervous at thesame time. You're more aware of the
darkness at your back and the warrantthat light at your face. I as
your host, standing with my elbowon the mantle as you sit on your
chosen plush SETTI clutching your warm drink. Your belly is full, and it's

(01:07:25):
Christmas Eve, and we are allvery good friends. It's time for me
to read a school story by mR James. Two men in a smoking
room were talking of their private schooldays at our school, said, Eh,
we had a ghost fookmark on thestaircase. What was it like?
A very unconvincing, just the safeshape of a suit. A school story

(01:07:50):
by m R James. Two menin a smoking room, we're talking of
their private school days at our school, said, Ay, we had a
ghost footmark on the stair case.What was it like? Oh, very
unconvincing. Just the shape of ashoe with square toe. If I remember
right, the staircase was a stoneone. I never heard any story about
the thing, and that seems odd, now that I've come to think of

(01:08:13):
it. Why didn't somebody invent one? I wonder? You can never tell.
With little boys, they have amythology of their own. There's a
subject for you, by the way, the folklore of private schools. Yes,
the crop is rather scanty, though, I imagine if you were in
to investigate the cycle of ghost stories, for instance, which the boys at
private schools tell each other. Theywould all turn out to be highly compressed

(01:08:33):
versions of stories out of books Nowadays, the Strand and Pearson's and so on
would be extensively drawn upon. Forexample, No doubt they weren't born or
thought of in my time. Let'ssee, I wonder if I can remember
the staple ones that I was told. First there was the house with the
room in it, which a seriesof people insisted on passing a night,

(01:08:55):
and each of them, in themorning was found kneeling in a corner and
had just have time to say,I've seed it it died. Wasn't that
the house on Berkeley Square? Idare say it was? Then there was
the man who heard a noise inthe passage at night, opened his door,
and saw something crawling towards him onall fours, with its eye hanging
out on his cheek. Yes,men, besides, let me think,

(01:09:19):
Yes, the room where a manwas found dead in bed with a horseshoe
marker on his forehead, and thefloor under the bed was covered with marks
of horseshoes. Also, I don'tknow why. Also there was the lady
who, on locking her bedroom doorin the Strange house, heard a thin
voice among the bed curtains say,now we're both shut in for the night.

(01:09:42):
None of those had any explanations orseql. I wonder if they go
on still these stories, oh,likely enough with additions from the magazines.
As I said, you never heard, did you of a real ghost at
a private school? Now? Ithought, not nobody that has that.
I've ever come across the way yousaid it, I gather you have.

(01:10:02):
I really don't know, but thisis what was in my mind. It
happened to my private school thirty oddyears ago, and I haven't any explanation
for it. The school that Imean was near London. It was established
in a large and fairly old house, a great white building with very fine
grounds about it. There were largecedars in the garden, as there are

(01:10:25):
in so many of the older gardensin the Thames Valley, and ancient elms
in the three or four fields whichwe use for our games. I think
it was probably quite an attractive place, but boys seldom allowed that their schools
possessed any tolerable features. I cameto the school in September, soon after
the year eighteen seventy, and amongthe boys who arrived in the same day

(01:10:45):
was one I took to a Highlandboy. Were all kom klout. I
needn't spent time in describing him.The main thing is that I got to
know him very well. He wasnot an exceptional boy in any way,
not particularly good at books or games, but he sewed it me. The
school was a large one. Theremust have been from one hundred twenty hundred
and thirty boys there as a rule, and so a considerable staff of masters

(01:11:06):
was required, and there were ratherfrequent changes among them. One term perhaps
was my third, maybe my fourth. A new master made his appearance.
His name was Sampson. He wasa tallish, stoutish, pale, black
bearded man. I think we likedhim. He traveled a good deal and
had stories which amused us in ourschool walks, so that there was some

(01:11:29):
competition among us to get with anearshot of him. I remember, too,
dear me, I'd hardly thought ofit since then, that he had
a charm on his watch chain thatattracted my attention one day, and he
let me examine it. It was, I now suppose, a cold gold
Byzantine coin there was an effigy ofsome absurd emperor on one side. The
other side had been worn practically smooth, and he had cut on it rather

(01:11:54):
barbarously, his own initials G WS and a date twenty four July eighteen
sixty five. Yes, I cansee it now, he told me.
He picked it up in Constantinople.It was about the size of a florin,
perhaps rather smaller. Well, thefirst odd thing that happened was this
Samson was doing Latin grammar with us. One of his favorite methods, perhaps

(01:12:15):
it's rather a good one, wasto make us construct sentences out of our
own heads to illustrate the rules hewas trying to make us learn. Of
course, that's a thing which givesa silly boy a chance of being impertinent.
There are a lot of school storiesin which this happens, or anywhere
there should be. But Samson wastoo good a disciplinarian for us to think
of trying that on with him.Now, on this occasion, he was

(01:12:38):
telling us how to express remembering inLatin, and he ordered each of us
to make a sentence beginning in theverb my memmi I remember. Well,
most of us made up some ordinarysentences such as I remember my father,
or he remembers this book, orsomething equally uninteresting. And I dare say
a good many put down me memolibromum, my book belongs to me,

(01:13:00):
and so forth. But the bookI meant. The boy I mentioned McLeod
was evidently thinking of something more elaboratethan that. The rest of us wanted
to have her sentences passed in andget on something else, so some kicked
him under the desk, and I, who was next to me, and
poked him and whispered to him tolook sharp, But he didn't seem to
attend. I looked at his paperand saw he'd put down nothing at all.

(01:13:25):
So I jogged him again, harderthan before, and upbraided him sharply
for keeping us all waiting. Thatdid have some effect. He started and
seemed to wake up, and thenvery quickly scribbled a couple of lines on
his paper and showed it up withthe rest. As it was the last
or nearly the last to come in, and as Samson had a good deal
to say to the boys who hadwritten mimimus patremeo, I remember my father,

(01:13:49):
and the rest of it. Itturned out that the clock struck twelve
before he had gotten to McCloud,and McLoud had to wait afterwards to have
his sentence corrected. There was nothingmuch going on out side when I got
out, so I waited for him. He came very slowly when he did
arrive, and I guess there hadbeen some sort of trouble. Well,
I said, what'd you get?Oh, I don't know, said McLoud,

(01:14:11):
not the munch, But I thinkSamson's rather sick with me. Why
did just show him up? Somerot, no fear? He said?
It was all right as far asI can see. It was like this
memento that's right enough to remember,and it takes a genitive memento poti into
quato taxos. What's silly, Rod? I said, what made you shove

(01:14:32):
that down? What does it mean? That's the funny parts of McCloud.
I'm not quite sure what it doesmean. All I know is it just
came into my head and I corkedit down. I know how to think
it means because before I, justbefore I wrote it down, I had
sort of a picture of it inmy head. I believe it means remember

(01:14:54):
the well among the four? Whatare those dark sort of trees that have
red berries them mountain ashes. Isuppose you mean I never heard of them,
said a Cloud. No, I'lltell you yous you trees? Well,
and what did Sampson say, Well, he was a jolly odd about
it. When he read in thesentence. He got up and went to

(01:15:15):
the mantelpiece and stopped quite a longtime without saying anything, with his back
to me, And then he said, without turning round, and rather quiet,
what do you suppose that means?I told him what I thought,
only I couldn't remember the name ofthe silly tree. And then he wanted
to know why I wrote it down, and I had to say something or
other. And after that he leftoff talking about it, and he asked

(01:15:38):
me how long I've been here,and where my people lived, and things
like that, and then I cameaway, but he wasn't looking a bit
well. I don't remember any morethat was said by either of us about
this. Next day, A Cloudtook to his bed with a chill or
something of the kind. And itwas a week or war before he was
in class again. And as muchas a month went by without anything happening

(01:16:00):
that was noticeable, whether or notmister Sampson was really startled. As McLoud
had thought, he didn't show it. I'm pretty sure, of course now,
that there was something very curious inhis past history, but I'm not
going to pretend that we boys weresharp enough to guess any sort of thing.
There was one other incident of thesame kind as the last, which
I told you several times since thatday. We had to make up examples

(01:16:23):
in school to illustrate different rules,but there had never been any row except
when we did them wrong, andlast came to day. We were going
through those dismal things which people callconditional sentences, and we were told to
make a conditional sentence expressing a futureconsequence. We did it right or wrong,
and showed up our bits of paper, and Sampson began looking through them

(01:16:44):
all at once. He got up, made some odds thoruwn noise in his
throat, and rushed out a doorthat was just by his desk. We
sat there for a minute or two, and then I suppose it was incorrect,
but we went up I and oneor two others to look at the
papers on his task. Of course, I thought someone must put down some
nonsense or other, and Samson hadgone off to record him. All the

(01:17:06):
same, I noticed he hadn't takenany of the papers with him when he
ran out. Well, the toppaper on the desk was written in red
ink wish no one used, andit wasn't in anyone's hand who was in
the class. They all looked atit, and cloud and all and took
their dying oaths. It wasn't theirs. Then I thought of counting the bits
of paper, and if this Imade quite certain there were seventeen bits of

(01:17:29):
paper on the desk and sixteen boysin the form. Well, I bagged
the extra paper and I kept it, and I believe I have it now,
and now you will want to knowwhat is written on it. It
was simple enough and harmless enough.I should have said, see you tuned
on Venetus admi ego venana atti,which means I suppose if you don't come

(01:17:53):
to me, I'll come to you. Could you show me the paper,
interrupted the listener. Yes I could, but that's another thing odd about it.
The same afternoon I took it outof my locker. I know for
certain it was the very same bitbecause I made a certain finger mark on
it, and no single trace ofwriting of any kind was there on it.

(01:18:14):
I kept it, as I said, And since that time I've tried
various experiments to see whether sympathetic inkhad been used, but absolutely without result.
So much for that. After abouthalf an hour, Samson looked in
again, said he had felt veryunwell, and told us what he might
go. He came very gingerly tohis desk and gave just one look at
the uppermost paper, and I supposehe thought he must have been dreaming.

(01:18:39):
Anyhow, he asked no questions.That day was a half holiday, and
next day Samson was in school againmuch as usual. That night, the
third and last incident in my storyhappened. We McLeod and I slept in
dormitory at right angles to the mainbuilding. Samson slept in the main building
on the first floor. There wasa very bright full moon at an hour

(01:19:00):
which I can't tell exactly, butsometime between one and two I was woken
up by someone shaking me. Itwas McLeod, and a nice state of
MINDY seemed to be in come.He said, come, there's a burglar
getting in through Sampson's window. Assoon as I could speak, I said,
we want not call out and lookeveryone up. No, no,
no, no, he said,I'm not sure who it is. Don't

(01:19:23):
make a row, come and look. Well. Naturally I came and looked,
and naturally there was no one there. I was cross enough, and
I should have called McLeod plenty ofnames, only I couldn't tell why.
It seemed to me there was somethingwrong, something that made me very glad
I wasn't alone to face it.We were still at the window looking out,

(01:19:45):
and as soon as I could,I asked him what he'd heard or
seen. I didn't hear anything atall, he said. But about five
minutes before I woke you, Ifound myself looking out at this window here,
and there was a man sitting orkneeling on Sampson's windows and looking in.
And I thought he was beckoning.What sort of man the cloud wriggled.

(01:20:08):
I don't know, he said,but I can tell you one thing.
It was beastly thin, and helooked as if he was wet all
over, And he said, lookingaround and whispering as if he hardly liked
to hear himself. I'm not atall sure he was alive. We went
on talking and whispered. Sometime longer, and eventually crept back to bed.

(01:20:30):
No one in the room woke orstirred the whole time. I believe we
did sleep a bit afterwards, butwe were very cheap The next day and
next day mister Sampson was gone,not to be found, and I believe
no trace of him has ever cometo light since. In thinking it over,
one of the oddest things about itall has seemed to me the fact
that neither Cloud or I ever mentionedwhat we'd seen to any third person whatsoever.

(01:20:55):
Of course, no questions were askedon the subject, and if they
had been, I am inclined tobelieve we could not have made any answer.
We seemed unable to speak about it. That is my story, said
the narrator. The only approach toa ghost story connected with the school that
I know to still, I thinkan approach to such a thing. The

(01:21:15):
sequel to this may be reckoned,highly conventional, but a sequel there is,
and so it must be produced.There had been more than when listening
to the story, and in thelatter part of that same year or of
the next, when such listener wasstaying at a country house in Ireland,
what evening his host was turning overour drawer full of odds and ends in
the smoking room. Suddenly he puthis hand on a little box. Now,

(01:21:38):
he said, you know about oldthings, Tell me what that is.
My friend opened the little box andfound in it a thin gold chain
with an object attached to it.He glanced at the object, and then
took off his spectacles to examine morenarrowly. What's the history of this,
he asked? Odd enough was theanswer. You know, the youth ticket
and the shrubbery. Where are youor two back? We were cleaning out

(01:22:00):
the old well that used to bein the clearing here, and what do
you suppose we found? Is itpossible you found a body? Said the
visitor, with odd feeling of nervousness. We did that. But what's more,
in every sense of the word,we found two good heavens too.
Was there anything to show how theygot there? Was this thing found with

(01:22:21):
them? It was amongst the rags, the clothes that were on one of
the bodies. A bad business,whatever the story of it may have been.
One body had its arms tight roundthe other. They must have been
there thirty years or more, longbefore we came to this place. You
may judge we filled up the wellfast enough you make anything of what's cut

(01:22:42):
on that gold coin you have there. I think I can, said my
friend, holding it to the light. But he read it without much difficulty.
It seems to be g. W. S. Twenty four July eighteen
sixty five. Many of our crystalstraditions today come from the Victorians, so
such as the Christmas tree as wenow decorate it, and our current incarnation

(01:23:05):
of a fat Santa Claus. Thatwhole description comes directly from the poem,
which was an ed for Christmas.But whence comes the horror? While Queen
Victoria's reign began in eighteen thirty seven, and with it came many changes that
influenced this taste for horror and winterand at Christmas. First, of course,
Christmas falls the ill tide, thecusts between the darkest days and the

(01:23:27):
turn towards lighter, longer days.Christmas time can be for many a time
for remembering those who were no longercelebrating with us. That is true,
of course, no matter what theera. But the Victorians had a certain,
shall I say, special relationship withdeath. This period had the advent
of photography, and so the fascinationwith post mortem photography was born. The

(01:23:49):
Society for Psychical Research was founded ineighteen eighty two, and with that brought
a mania for spiritualism and spiritual photography, capturing ghosts and plasm on film.
Plus, this was the time periodof memento mori, when morning went involved
wearing jewelry made from the hair ofthe deceased. Death was always with the

(01:24:12):
victorians. Add to all this theuncertainty of the time. There were a
lot of economic changes. This wasthe time of the Industrial Revolution, which
led to moves from rural living tocity, changing roles, changing jobs,
changing fortunes, the creation of anew middle class. Then there was access,
access to stories, the availability ofthe periodical. Magazines basically were now

(01:24:38):
a thing. As I have said, a Christmas Carol was released as a
serial. People could collect, exchangeand share short stories and serialized novels,
and the spooky er and grimmer thebetter. It was never more true than
in this era that if it bleeds, it leads. The working public had
little money to spend on entertainment.The periodical they chose to buy with their

(01:24:59):
heart in factory or servant money hadbetter give them the bank for their buck.
And finally, daily life was alittle little jumpy. Anything could be
around any corner literally. Now imagineservants lived as silent members of households that
could afford them. They were meantto be seen and not heard, and
they often had their own stairways,hallways, and sometimes secrets passageways to be

(01:25:24):
seen as little as possible. Butwhen they needed to be seen, they
didn't announce their presence. They literallywere the ghosts of the house. You
could open your eyes in the morningto find your chambermaid hovering over you,
tending to some household task. Imaginecoming out of a nightmare to make contact
with some silent person dressed in whiteapron and a cat making eye contact with

(01:25:45):
you. Plus, homes were litwith gas, which was low lighting and
unreliable. The lights would go inand out, and soot and gas street
lights made for eerie walks home atnight. Life was a horror movie waiting
to happen, and then it didwith Jack the Ripper in eighteen eighty eight.
So in that environment, if youdidn't embrace the fear is fun,

(01:26:10):
the fear would overwhelm you. Andthat's one of the main purposes of the
horror genre. It helps us rehearsefight or flight. Adrenaline rushes in safety,
just like roughhousing play. Other majorstorytelling names this horror show genre of
Yule horror were Elizabeth Gaskell, E. F. Benson, Algernon Blackwood,

(01:26:30):
Missus J. H. Riddle,Sir Andrew Caldecott, A. M.
Burridge, Sheridan Lafanu, Amelia B. Edwards, who was interestingly an Egyptologist,
Charlotte Riddell, Robert Lewis Stevenson,Oscar Wilde, Rudyard Kipling, and
Henry James and Saki otherwise known asH. H. Monroe. Saki is

(01:26:56):
a genius when it comes to theplayground of the short story. Been compared
to Dorothy Parker and O. Henry. He started writing near the end of
the Victorian era. But I chosethis particular story of his because it's just
so playfully gleeful. It shows theother side of the subgenre. Horror is
sometimes playful. You know, youthink of the crypt keeper from Tales from
the Crypt. So here we goagain. Close your eyes one more time

(01:27:21):
for me. Now imagine this timeit's later in the evening. We've been
innervated by strong nog and Moiselle,and many scary stories. The fire,
as you could hear, is settleddown, and the wind is picked up.
It's whistling from the shaft. Someonegot the bright idea to make popcorn
strings and popcorn balls. And ourgroup is merry in front of the fire,

(01:27:45):
half on setties and half piled onthe floor, now all buttered,
hands and faces distracted and warm insideand out, and almost through with the
popcorn crafting and eating. Ready forthat last story for me to tell,
in order to send you a littlefrightened but happy and laughing out to your
carriages for the cold crisp ride hometo your own Christmas. So here one

(01:28:09):
more and a hearty will sail toyou, happy Christmas friends the open window
by Saki. My aunt will bedown presently, mister Nuttle, said a
very self possessed young lady of fifteen. In the meantime you must try to
put up with me. Frampton Nuddellendeavored to say the correct something which should

(01:28:31):
duly flatter the niece of the moment, without unduly discounting the aunt that was
to come. Privately, he doubtedmore than ever whether these formal visits on
a succession of total strangers would domuch towards helping the nerve care which he
was supposed to be undergoing. Iknow how it will be, his sister
had said, when he was preparingto migrate to this rural retreat. You

(01:28:54):
will bury yourself down there and notspeak to a living soul, and your
nerves will be worse than another frommoping. I shall just give you letters
of introduction to all the people Iknow there. Some of them, as
far as I can remember, werequite nice. Frampton wondered whether missus Sappleton,
the lady to whom he was presentingone of the letters of introduction,

(01:29:15):
came into the nice division. Doyou know many of the people around here,
asked the niece, for she hadjudged that they had had sufficient silent
communion hardly a soul, said Frampton. My sister was staying here at the
rectory, you know, some fouryears ago, and she gave me these
letters of introduction to some of thepeople here. He made the last statement

(01:29:36):
in a tone of distinct regret.Then you know practically nothing about my aunt,
pursued the self possessed young lady ahem, only her name and address,
admitted the caller. He was wonderingwhether missus Sappleton was in the married or
widowed state an undefinable. Something aboutthe room seemed to suggest me vascular inhabitation.

(01:30:01):
Her great tragedy happened just three yearsago, said the child. That
would have been since your sister's timeher tragedy, asked Frampton. Somehow in
this RESTful country spot tragedy seemed outof place. You may wonder why we
keep that window wide open on anOctober afternoon, said the niece, indicating

(01:30:23):
a large French window that opened ontoa lawn. It is quite warm for
the summer year, said Frampton.But what has that window got to do
with anything? With the tragedy?Out through that window? Three years to
a day, her husband and hertwo young brothers went off for the day
shooting. They never came back,and crossing the moor to their favorite snipe

(01:30:45):
shooting ground, they were all threeengulfed and a treacherous piece of bog.
It had been that dreadful wet summer, you know, and places that were
safe in other years gave way suddenlywithout warning. Their bodies were never recovered.
That was the aful part of ithere, the child's voice lost its
self, possessed note and became falteringlyhuman. Poor Auntie always thinks they'll come

(01:31:10):
back someday, they and the littlebrown spaniel that was lost with them and
walk in at that window, justas they used to. That is why
the window is kept open every eveninguntil it is quite dusk. Poor dear
Auntie. She has often told mehow they went out, Her husband with
his white waterproof coat over his arm, and Ronnie, her youngest brother,
is singing Bertu, wh do youbound? As he always did to tease

(01:31:32):
her, because she said it goton her nerves. Do you know sometimes
I'll still quiet evenings like this,I always get this creepy feeling that they
will all walk in through that window. She broke off with a little shudder.
It was a relief to Frampton whenthe aunt bustled into the room with
a whirl of apologies for being lateand making her parents. I hope Aurvera

(01:31:55):
has been amusing you, she said. She has been very interesting Frampton.
I hope you don't mind the openwindow, said missus Sampleton briskly. My
husband and brothers will be home directlyfrom shooting, and they always come in
this way they've been out for snipeand the marshes today, so they'll make
a fine mess over my poor carpets. So like you menfolks, isn't it.
She rattled on cheerfully about shooting inscarcity of birds, and the prospects

(01:32:18):
of duck in the winter. ToFrampton, it was all purely horrible.
He made a desperate but only partiallysuccessful effort to turn the talk onto a
last ghastly topic. He was consciousthat his hostess was giving him only a
fragment of her attention, and thather eyes were constantly straying past him to
the open window in the lawn belowbeyond. It was certainly an unfortunate coincidence

(01:32:41):
that he should have paid his visiton this the most tragic of anniversaries.
The doctors agreed in ordering me completerest, an absence of mental excitement,
and an avoidance of anything in thenature of violent physical exercise, announced Frampton,
who labored under the taller widespread delusionthat total strangers and chance acquaintances are

(01:33:03):
hungry for the least detail of oneailments and infirmaries their cause and cure.
On the matter of diet, thereare not so much an agreement, he
continued, No, said missus Sampleton, in a voice which only replaced a
yawn at the last moment. Thenshe suddenly brightened an alert attention. But

(01:33:24):
not to what, mister what Framptonwas saying. Here they aren't less,
she cried, just in time fortea. And don't they look as if
there were muddy up to the eyes? Frampton shivered slightly and turned towards the
nise with a look intended to conveysympathetic comprehension. The child was staring out
through the open window with a dazedhorror in her eyes. In a chill

(01:33:45):
shock of nameless fear, Frampton swunground in his seat and looked in the
same direction. In the deepening twilight, three figures were walking across the lawn
towards the window. They all carriedguns under their arms, and one of
them was additionally burdened with a whitecoat hung over his shoulders. A tired

(01:34:05):
brown spaniel cut close at their heelsnoisily. They kid neared the house,
and then a hoarse young voice chantedout of the dusk. I say,
Bertie, what do you bound?Frankton grabbed wildly at his walking stick and
hat the hall door, the graveldrive in the front gate were dimly noted
stages in his headlong retreat. Acyclist coming along the road had to run

(01:34:27):
into the hedge to avoid imminent collision. Here we are, my dear,
said the bearer of the white macintosh, coming through the window. Fairly money,
but most of us dry. Whowas that who bolted out as we
came up? A most extraordinary man, mister Nuttle, said, Missus Sappleton
only talk about his illnesses and dashedoff without a word of goodbye or apology

(01:34:48):
when you arrived. Whouldn't have thoughthe'd seen a ghost? I expect it
was the spaniel, said the niececalmly. He told me he had a
horror of dogs. He was oncehunted into a cemetery somewhere on the banks
of the Ganges by a pack ofpariah dogs, and had to spend the
night in a newly dug grave witha creature snarling and grinning and foaming just

(01:35:10):
above him, enough to make anyonelose their nerves. Romantic stories at short
notice were her specialty.

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