October 19, 2025 • 41 mins
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Ghost Club. An unfortunate episode in the Life of
Number five thousand ten by John Kendrick bangs Bread by
John Taylor, Southeast Missouri, September two thousand six. Number five
thousand ten was, at the time I received the details
(00:22):
of this story from his lips, a stalwart man of
thirty eight, swart of Hugh, of pleasing address, and altogether
the last person one would take for a convict serving
time for sneak thieving. The only outer symptoms of his
actual condition wore the striped suit he wore, the style
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and cut of which are still in vogue at Sing
Sing prison, and the closely cropped hair, which showed off
the distinctly intellectual lines of his head to great advantage.
He was engaged in making shoes when I first saw him,
and so impressed was I with the contrast between his
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really refined features and grace of manner and those of
his brutish looking companions, that I asked my guide who
he was and what were the circumstances which had brought
him to Sing Sing. He pegs shoes like a gentleman,
I said, yes, returned the keeper. He's very troublesome that way.
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He thinks he's too good for his position. We can't
never do nothing with the boots he makes. Why do
you keep him at work in the shoe department, I queried.
We haven't got no work to be done in his
special line, so we have to put him at whatever
we can. He pegs shoes less badly than he does
anything else. What was his special line? He was a
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gentleman of leisure, traveling for his health. Afore he got
into the toils of the law. His real name is
Marmaduke Fitztappington, a wolf of pel Hamhurst by the Sea, Warwickshire.
He landed in this country of a Tuesday, took to
collect in souvenir spoons of a Friday, was jugged the
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same day, tried, convicted, and there he sets in for
two years more. How interesting, I said, was the evidence
against him conclusive? Extremely? A half dozen spoons was found
on his person. He pleaded guilty, I suppose not him.
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He claimed to be as innocent as a new born babe,
told a cock and bull story about having been deluded
by spirits. But the judge and jury wasn't to be fooled.
They gave him every chance too. He even cabled himself.
The judge did to pel Hamhurst by the Sea, Warwickshire,
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at his own expense, to see if the man was
an but he never got no reply. There was them
as said, there wasn't no such place as pel Hamhurst
by the Sea in Warwickshire, but they never proved it.
I should like very much to interview him, said I.
It can't be done, sir, said my guide. The rules
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is very strict. You couldn't er arrange an interview for me,
I asked, jingling a bunch of keys in my pocket.
He must have recognized the sound, for he colored and
gruffly replied, I has me orders, and I obey him.
Just er add this to the pension fund I put in,
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handing him a five dollar bill. An interview is impossible, eh,
I didn't say impossible, he answered, with a grateful smile.
I said, against the rules, but we has been known
to make exceptions. I think I can fix you up.
Suffice it to say that he did fix me up,
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and that two hours later, five thousand ten and I
sat down together in the cell of the former a
not too commodious stall, and had a pleasant chat, in
the course of which he told me the story of
his life, which, as I had surmised, was to me
at least exceedingly interesting and easily worth twice the amount
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of my contribution to the pension fund. Under the management
of my guide of the morning, my real name, said
the unfortunate convict, as you may have already guessed, is
not five thousand ten. That is an alias forced upon
me by the state authorities. My name is really Austin Merton.
Surreends ahem, I said, Then, my guide aired this morning
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when he told me that in reality you were Marmaduke Fitztappington,
de Wolfe of Pelhamhurst by the Sea, Warwickshire, number five
thousand ten, laughed long and loud. Of course, he aired.
You don't suppose that I would give the authorities my
real name, do you? Why? Man? I am a nephew.
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I have an aged uncle, a rich millionaire uncle, whose
heart and will it would break were he to hear
of my present plight. Both the heart and will are
in my favor, hence my tender solicitude for him. I
am innocent, of course, Convicts always are, you know, but
that wouldn't make any difference. He'd die of mortification just
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the same. It's one of our family traits that so
I gave a false name to the authorities and secretly
informed my uncle that I was about to set out
for a walking trip across the Great American Desert, requesting
him not to worry if he did not hear from
me for a number of years, America being in a
state of semi civilization, to which males outside of certain
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districts are entirely unknown. My uncle, being an Englishman and
a conservative gentlemen, addicted more to reading than to travel,
accepts the information as voracious and suspects nothing. And when
I am liberated, I shall return to him, and at
his death shall become a conservative man of wealth myself. See.
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But if you are innocent and he rich and influential,
why did you not appeal to him to save you,
I asked, because I was afraid that he, like the
rest of the world, would decline to believe my defense
sighed fivey ten. It was a good defense if the
judge had only known it, and I'm proud of it.
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But ineffectual I put in, and so not good Alas, Yes,
this is an incredulous age. People, particularly judges, are hard
headed practical men of affairs. My defense was suited more
for an age of mystical tendencies. Why will you believe it? Sir?
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My own lawyer, the man to whom I paid eighteen
dollars and seventy five cents for championing my cause, told
me the defense was rubbish, devoid even of literary merit.
What chance could a man have if his lawyer even
didn't believe in him? None, I answered, sadly, And you
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had no chance at all, though innocent. Yes, I had one,
and I chose not to take it. I might have
proved myself non compostmenttis, but that involved my making a
fool myself in public before a jury, and I have
too much dignity for that. I can tell you. I
told my lawyer that I should prefer a felon cell
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to the richly furnished flat of a wealthy lunatic, to
which he replied, then all is lost, And so it was.
I read my defense in court. The judge laughed, the
jury whispered, and I was convicted instanter of stealing spoons,
when murder itself was no further from my thoughts than theft.
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But they tell me you were caught red handed, said,
I were not a half dozen spoons found upon your
person in my hand, returned the prisoner. The spoons were
in my hand when I was arrested, and they were
seen there by the owner, by the police, and by
the usual crowd of small boys that congregate at such
embarrassing moments, springing up out of the sidewalks, dropping down
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from the heavens, swarming in from everywhere. I had no
idea there were so many small boys in the world
until I was arrested and found myself the sinister of
a million or more innocent blue eyes. Were they all
blue eyed? I requeried, thinking the point interesting from a
scientific point of view, hoping to discover that curiosity of
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a morbid character was always found in connection with eyes
of a specified hue. Oh no, I fancy not, returned
my host, but to a man with a load of
another fellow's spoons in his possession and a pair of
handcuffs on his wrists. Everything looks blue, I don't doubt it,
I replied, But uh, just how now could you defend
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yourself when every bit of evidence, and you will excuse
me for saying so conclusive evidence at that pointed to
your guilt. The spoons were a gift, he answered, but
the owner denied that I know it. That's where the
beastly part of it all came in. They were not
given to me by the owner, but by a lot
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of mean, low down, practical, joke loving ghosts. Number fivey
ten's anger as he spoke these words was terrible to witness,
And as he strode up and down the floor of
his cell and dashed his arms right and left, I
wished for a moment that I was elsewhere. I should
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not have flown. However, even had the cell door been
opened and my way clear, for his suggestion of a
supernatural agency in connection with his crime whetted my curiosity
until it was more keen than ever, and I made
up my mind to hear the story to the end
if I had to commit a crime and get myself
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sentenced to confinement in that prison for life to do so. Fortunately,
extreme measures of this nature were unnecessary, for after a
few moments, Surrenes calmed down, and, seating himself beside me
on the cot, drained his water pitcher to the dregs,
and began excuse me for not offering you a drink.
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He said. But the wine they serve here, while moist,
is hardly what a connoisseur would choose except for bathing purposes.
And I compliment you by assuming that you do not
wish to taste it. Thank you, I said, I do
not like to take water straight exactly, I always dilute it.
In fact, with a little of this here. I extracted
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a small flask from my pocket and handed it to him. Ah,
he said, smacking his lips as he took a long
pull at its contents. That puts spirit into a man. Yes,
it does, I replied, ruefully, as I noted that he
had left me very little but the flask. But I
don't think it was necessary for you to deprive me
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of all mine. No, that is, you can't appreciate the
necessity unless you, Ah, you have suffered in your life
as I am suffering. You are never sent up yourself.
I gave him a glance, which was all indignation. I
guess not, I said, I have led a life that
is above reproach. Good, he replied, And what a satisfaction
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that is. Eh. I don't believe I'd be able to
stand this jail life if it wasn't for my conscience,
which is as clear and clean as it would be
if I'd never used it. Would you mind telling me
what your defense was, I asked, certainly, not, said he cheerfully.
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I'd be very glad to give it to you, but
you must remember one thing. It is copyrighted. Fire ahead,
I said, with a smile. I'll respect your copyright. I'll
give you a royalty on what I get for the story.
Very good, he answered, It was like this. To begin.
I must tell you that when I was a boy
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preparing for college, I had for a chum a brilliant,
fun loving fellow named Holly Hicks, concerning whose future various
prophecies had been made. His mother often asserted that he
would be a great poet. His father thought that he
was born to be a great general. Our head master
at the Scarberry Institute for Young Gentlemen prophecied the gallows
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they were all wrong, though for myself I think that
if he had lived long enough, almost any one of
the prophecies might have come true. The trouble was that
Holly died at the age of twenty three, fifteen years elapsed.
I was graduated with high honors at Brosno's lived a
life of elegant leisure, and at the age of thirty seven,
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broke down in health. That was about a year ago.
My uncle, whose air and constant companion I was, gave
me a liberal allowance and sent me off to travel.
I came to America, landed in New York early in September,
and set about winning back the color which had departed
from my cheeks by an assiduous devotion to such pleasures
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as New York affords. Two days after my arrival, I
set out for an airing at Coney Island, leaving my
hotel at four in the afternoon. On my way down Broadway,
I was suddenly startled at hearing my name spoken from
behind me, and appalled on turning to see standing with
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outstretched hands no less a person than my defunct chum,
Holly Hicks. Impossible, said I exactly. My remark returned number
five Thy ten, to which I added, Holly Hicks, it
can't be you, but it is me. He replied, and
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then I was convinced, for Holly never was good on
his grammar. I looked at him a minute, and then
I said, but Holly, I thought you were dead. I am,
he answered, But Why should a little thing like that
stand between friends? It shouldn't, Holly, I answered meekly. But
it's condemnedly unusual, you know, for man to associate even
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with his best friends fifteen years after they've died and
been buried. Do you mean to say, Austin, that, just
because I was weak enough once to succumb to a
bad cold, you, the dearest friend of my youth, the
closest companion of my school days, the partner of my
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childish joys, intend to go back on me here in
a strange city, Hally, I answered, huskily, Not a bit
of it. My letter of credit, my room at the hotel,
my dress suit, even my ticket to Coney Island are
at your disposal. But I think the partner of your
childish joys ought first to be let in on the
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ground floor of this enterprise and informed how the deuce
you managed to turn up in New York fifteen years
subsequent to your obsequies. Is New York the hereafter for
boys of your kind? Or is this some freak of
my imagination? That was an eminently proper question I put
in just to show that while the story I was
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hearing terrified me I was not altogether speechless. It was, indeed,
said five thousand ten, and Hally reckedgnized it as such,
for he replied at once, neither said he. Your imagination
is all right, and New York is neither Heaven nor
the other place. The fact is, I'm spooking, and I
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can tell you, Austin, it's just about the finest kind
of work there is. If you could manage to shuffle
off your mortal coil and get in with a lot
of ghosts the way I have, you'd be playing in
great luck. Thanks for the hint, Holly, I said, with
a grateful smile. But to tell you the truth, I
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do not find that life is entirely bad. I get
my three meals a day, keep my pocket full of coin,
and sleep eight hours every night on a couch that
couldn't be more desirable if it were studded with jewels
and had mineral springs. That's your mortal ignorance, Austin, he retorted,
I lived long enough to appreciate the necessity of being ignorant.
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But your style of existence is really not to be
mentioned in the same cycle with mine. You talk about
three meals a day, as if that were an ideal.
You forget that. With the eating, your labor is just begun.
Those meals have to be digested, every one of them.
And if you could only understand it, it would appall
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you to see what a fearful, wear and tear that
act of digestion is in my life. You are feasting
all the time, but with no need for digestion. You
speak of money in your pockets, Well I have none,
yet I am the richer of the two. I don't
need money. The world is mine. If I chose to,
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I could pour the contents of that jeweler's window into
your lap in five seconds. But quibono, the gems delight
my eyes quite as well where they are. And as
for travelostin of which you have always been fond, the
spectral method beats all. I watched him as well as
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I could for a minute, said fivey ten, and then
he disappeared. In another minute he was before me again. Well,
I said, I suppose you've been around the block in
that time, eh, he roared with laughter. Around the block,
he ejaculated. I have done the continent of Europe, taking
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a run through China, haunted the Emperor of Japan, and
sailed round the horn since I left you a minute ago.
He was a truthful boy in spite of his peculiarities,
Holly was said Sirrens quietly, So I had to believe
what he said. He abhorred lies. That was pretty fast traveling, though,
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said I. He'd make a fine messenger boy. That's so.
I wish i'd suggested it to him, smiled my host.
But I can tell you, sir, I was astonished, Holly,
I said, you always were a fast youth, but I
never thought you would develop into this. I wonder you
not out of breath after such a journey. Another point,
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my dear Austin, in favor of my mode of existence.
We spooks have no breath to begin with. Consequently, to
get out of it is no deprivation, but I say,
He added, whither Are you bound to Coney Island to
see the sights? I replied, won't you join me? Not I,
he replied, Coney Island is tame. When I first joined
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the Specter Band, it seemed to me that nothing could
delight me more than an eternal round of gaiety like that.
But Austin, I have changed. I have developed a good
deal since you and I were parted at the grave.
I should say you had, I answered, I doubt if
many of your old friends would know you. You seem
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to have had difficulty in so doing yourself Austin, he
replied regretfully. But see here, old chap, give up Coney
Island and spend the evening with me at the club.
You'll have a good time. I can assure you. The club,
I said. You don't mean to say you visions have
a club I do. Indeed, the Ghost Club is the
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most flourishing association of choice spirits in the world. We
have rooms in every city in Creation, and the finest
part of it is there are no dues to be paid.
The membership list holds some of the finest names in history. Shakespeare,
Milton Chaucer, Napoleon Bonaparte, Caesar, George Washington, Mozart, Frederick the Great,
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Mark Antony Cassius was blackballed on Caesar's account. Galileo confucious.
You admit the Chinese, eh, I queried, Not always, he replied,
But Khan was such a good fellow. They hadn't the
heart to keep him out. But you see, Austin, what
a lot of fine fellows there are in it. Yes,
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it's a magnificent list, and I should say they make
a pretty interesting set of fellows to hear talk, I
put in, Well rather, Holly replied, I wish you could
have heard a debate between Shakespeare and Caesar on the Revolution.
The pen is mightier than the sword. It was immense.
I should think it might have been, I said, which
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one the sword party? They were the best fighters, though
on the merits of the argument, Shakespeare was way ahead.
If I thought I'd stand a chance of seeing spooks
like that, I think I'd give up Coney Island and
go with you, I said. Well, replied Holly, that's just
the kind of a chance you do stand. They'll all
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be there tonight, and as this is lady's day, you
might meet Lucretia, Borgia, Cleopatra, and a few other feminine
apparitions of considerable note. That settles it. I am yours
for the rest of the day, I said, And so
we had a journed to the rooms of the Ghost Club.
These rooms were in a beautiful house on Fifth Avenue.
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The number of the house you will find on consulting
the court records. I have forgotten it. It was a large,
broad brown stone structure, and must have been over one
hundred and fifty feet in depth. Such fittings I never
saw before. Everything was in the height of luxury, and
I am quite certain that among beings to whom money
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is a measure of possibility, no such magnificence as attainable.
The paintings on the walls were by the most famous
artists of our own and other days. The rugs on
these superbly polished floors were worth fortunes, not only for
their exquisite beauty, but also for their extreme rarity. In
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keeping with these were the furniture and bric a brac.
In short, my dear sir, I had never dreamed of
anything so dazzlingly, so perbly magnificent as that apartment into
which I was ushered by the ghost of my quondam
friend Holly Hicks. At first I was speechless with wonder,
which seemed to amuse Hicks very much. Pretty fine, ay,
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he said, with a short laugh. Well, I replied in
a moment, considering that you can get along without money,
and that all the resources of the world are at
your disposal, it is not more than half bad. Have
you a library? I was always fond of Books, explained
five thousand ten in parentheses to me, and so was
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quite anxious to see what the Club of Ghosts could
show in the way of literary treasures. Imagine my surprise
when Holly informed me that the club had no collection
of the sort to appeal to the bibliophile. No, he answered,
we have no library. Rather strange, I said that a
club to which men like Shakespeare, Milton Edgar, Allan Poe,
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and other deceased literati belong should be deficient in that respect.
Not at all, said he. Why should we want books
when we have the men themselves to tell their tales
to us? Would you give a rap to possess a
set of Shakespeare? If William himself would sit down and
rattle off the whole business to you any time he
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chose to ask him to do it. Would you follow
Scott's printed narratives through their devious and tedious periods? If
Sir Walter in spirit would come to you on demand
and tell you all the old stories over again in
a tenth part of the time it would take you
to read the introduction to one of them. I fancy not,
I said, Are you in such luck? I am? Said Holly?
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Only personally. I never send for Scott or Shakespeare. I
prefer something lighter than either Douglas Gerald or Marryatt. But
best of all, I like to sit down and hear
Noah swap animal stories with Davy Crockett, nos the brightest
man of his age in the club, Adam's kind of slow.
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How about Solomon? I asked more to be flippant than
with any desire for information. I was much amused to
hear Hawlly speak of these great spirits as if he
and they were chums of long standing. Solomon has resigned
from the club, he said, with a sad sigh. He
was a good fellow. Solomon was, but he thought he
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knew it all until old doctor Johnson got hold of him,
and then he knuckled under. It's rather rough for a
man to get firmly established in his belief that he
is the wisest creature going, and then, after a couple
of thousand years, have an Englishman come along and tell
him things he never knew before, especially the way sam
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Johnson delivers himself of his opinions. Johnson never cared whom
he hurt, you know, And when he got after Solomon,
he did it with all his might. I wonder if
Boswell was there, I ventured, interrupting five thousand ten in
his extraordinary narrative for an instant. Yes, he was there,
returned the prisoner. I met him later in the evening.
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But he isn't the spook he might be. He never
had much spirit anyhow, and when he died he had
to leave his nose behind him, and that settled him.
Of course, I answered, Boswell, with no nose to stick
into other people's affairs, would have been like a fellow
with Desdemona left out. But go on, what did you
do next? Well five thousand ten resumed. After I'd looked
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about me and drunk my fill of the magnificence on
every hand, Hawley took me into the music room and
introduced me to Mozart and Wagner and a few other
great composers. In response to my request, Wagner played an
impromptu version of Daisy Bell on the organ. It was great.
Not much like Daisy Bell, of course, more like a
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collision between a cyclone and a simoom in a tin
plate mining camp in fact, but nevertheless marvelous. I tried
to remember it afterwards and jotted down a few notes,
but I found the first bar took up seven sheets
a fool's cap, and so gave it up. Then Mozart
tried his hand on a banjo for my amusement. Mendelssohn
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sang a half dozen of his songs without words, and
then gotchoc played one of Poe's weird stories on the piano.
Then Carlyle came in, and Hawley introduced me to him.
He was a gruff old gentleman and seemingly anxious to
have Freud become ineligible. And I judged from the rather
fierce manner in which he handled a club he had
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in his hand that there were one or two other
men of prominence still living. He was anxious to meet.
Dickens too, was desirous of a two minute interview with
certain of his at present purely mortal critics. And between
you and me, if the wink that Bacon gave Shakespeare
when I spoke of ignatious Donnelly meant anything, the famous
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Cryptogrammire will do well to drink a bottle of the
elixir of life every morning before breakfast and stave off
dissolution as long as he can. There's no getting around
the fact Sir. Sirrenz added, with a significant shake of
his head, that the present leaders of literary thought with
critical tendencies are going to have the hardest kind of
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time when they cross the river and apply for admission
to the Ghost Club. I don't ask for any better
fun than that of watching from a safe distance the
initiation ceremonies of the next dozen who go over and
as an Englishman, Sir, who thoroughly believes in and admires
Lord Wolsey, if I were out of jail unable to
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do it, I'd write him a letter and warn him
that he would better revise his estimates of certain famous
soldiers no longer living if he desires to find rest
in that mysterious other world whither he must eventually betake himself.
They've got their swords sharpened for him, and he'll discover
an instance when he gets over there in which the
sword is mightier than the pen. After that, Hawley took
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me upstairs and introduced me to the spirit of Napoleon Bonaparte,
with whom I passed about twenty five minutes talking over
his victories and defeats. He told me he could never
understand how a man like Wellington came to defeat him
at Waterloo and added that he had sounded the Iron
Duke on the subject and found him equally ignorant. So
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the afternoon and evening passed, I met quite a number
of famous ladies, Catherine, Marie, Louise, Josephine, Queen Elizabeth and others.
Talked architecture with Queen Anne, and was surprised to learn
that she never saw a Queen Anne cottage. I took
peg Woffington down to supper and all together had a
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fine time of it. But my dear Surrends, I put
in at this point, I failed to see what this
has to do with your defense in your trial for
stealing spoons. I'm coming to that, said five thousand ten. Sadly,
I dwell on the moments pasted at the club because
they were the happiest of my life, and I am
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loath to speak of what followed, but I suppose I must.
It was all due to Queen Isabella that I got
into trouble. Peg Woffington presented me to Queen Isabella in
the supper room, and while her majesty and I were talking,
I spoke of how beautiful everything in the club was
and admired, especially a half dozen old Spanish spoons upon
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the sideboard. When I had done this, the Queen called
to Ferdinand, who was chatting with Columbus on the other
side of the room, to come to her, which he
did with alacrity. I was presented to the King, and
then my troubles began. Mister Currens, admires our spoons, Ferdinand,
said the queen. The King smiled, and, turning to me, observed, Sir,
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they are yours, ah waiter. Just do these spoons up
and give them to mister Cerends, of course, said five
thousand ten. I protested against this, whereupon the King looked displeased.
It is a rule of our club, Sir, as well
as an old Spanish custom, for us to present to
our guests anything that they may happen openly to admire.
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You are surely sufficiently well acquainted with the etiquette of
club life to know that guests may not, with propriety
decline to be governed by the regulations of the club
whose hospitality they are in join. I certainly am aware
of that, my dear King, I replied, and of course
I accept the spoons with exceeding deep gratitude. My remonstrance
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was prompted solely by my desire to explain to you
that I was unaware of any such regulation, and to
assure you that when I ventured to inform your good
wife that the spoons had excited my sincerest admiration, I
was not hinting that it would please me greatly to
be accounted their possessor. Your courtly speech, Sir, returned the
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King with a low bow, is ample assurance of your sincerity.
And I beg that you will put the spoons in
your pocket and say no more. They are yours. Verb sap.
I thanked the great Spaniard and said no more, pocketing
the spoons with no little exultation, because having always been
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a lover of the quaint and beautiful, I was glad
to possess such treasures, though I must confess to some
misgivings as to the possibility of their being unreal. Shortly
after this episode, I looked at my watch and discovered
that it was getting well on towards eleven o'clock, and
I sought out Holly for the purpose of thanking him
for a delightful evening and of taking my leave. I
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met him in the hall, talking to Euripides on the
subject of the amateur stage in the United States. What
they said I did not stop to hear, but, offering
my hand to Holly, informed him of my intention to depart. Well,
old check, he said, affectionately, I'm glad you came. It's
always a pleasure to see you, and I hope we
(33:06):
may meet again sometime soon. And then, catching sight of
my bundle, he asked, what have you there. I informed
him of the episode in the supper room, and fancied.
I perceived a look of annoyance on his countenance. I
didn't want to take them, Holly, I said, but Ferdinand insisted,
Oh it's all right, returned Holly, only, I'm sorry. You'd
(33:29):
better get along home with them as quickly as you
can and say nothing. And above all, don't try to
sell them. But why, I asked, I'd much prefer to
leave them here, if there is any question of the
propriety of my here continued fivey ten. Holly seemed to
grow impatient, for he stamped his foot angrily and bade
(33:51):
me go at once, or there might be trouble. I
proceeded to obey him and left the house instanter, slamming
the door somewhat angrily behind me. Hawley's unceremonious way of
speeding his parting guests did not seem to me to
be exactly what I had a right to expect at
the time. I see now what his object was, and
(34:12):
to quit him of any intention to be rude, though,
I must say, if I ever catch him again, I'll
wring an explanation from him for having introduced me into
such bad company. As I walked down the steps said
five thy ten. The chimes of the neighboring church were
clinging out the hour of eleven. I stopped on the
(34:33):
last step to look for a possible handsome cab, when
a portly gentleman accompanied by a lady started to mount
the stoop. The man eyed me narrowly for a moment,
and then sending the lady up the steps, he turned
to me and said, what are you doing here? I've
just left the club. I answered, it's all right. I
(34:53):
was Holly Hicks's guest. Whose ghost are you? What the
deuce are you talking about, he asked, rather gruffly, much
to my surprise and discomfort, I tried to give you
a civil answer to your question, I returned indignantly. I
guess you're crazy or a thief. He rejoined. See here, friend,
(35:15):
I put in rather impressively. Just remember one thing, you
are talking to a gentleman, and I don't take remarks
of that sort from anybody, spook or otherwise. I don't
care if you are the ghost of the Emperor Nero.
If you give me any more of your impudence, I'll
dissipate you to the four quarters of the universe. See
(35:38):
Then he grabbed me and shouted for the police. And
I was painfully surprised to find that, instead of coping
with a mysterious being from another world, I had two
hundred and ten pounds of flesh and blood to handle.
The populace began to gather the million and a half
of small boys of whom I have already spoken. Most
(36:00):
screet gammons, owing to the lateness of the hour, sprang
up from all about us. Handsome cab drivers, attracted by
the noise of our altercation, drew up to the sidewalk
to watch developments, and then, after the usual fifteen or
twenty minutes, the blue coat emissary of justice appeared. What's this?
He asked, I have detected this man leaving my house
(36:24):
in a suspicious manner, said my adversary, I have reason
to suspect him of thieving your house, I ejaculated with
fine scorn. I've got you there. This is the house
of the New York branch of the Ghost Club. If
you want it proved, I added, turning to the policeman
ring the bell, and ask I think that's a fair proposition,
(36:49):
observed the policeman. Is the motion seconded. Oh come now,
cried my captor. Stop this nonsense, or I'll report you
to the department. This is my house and has been
for twenty years. I want this man searched. I have
no warrant permitthen me to investigate the contents of the
gentleman's clothes, returned the intelligent member of the force. But
(37:13):
a yus. I'll take your solemn alibi that yees have
raisen to believe the gentleman has worked only habeas corpus
business on your property. I'll jug the blagyard. I'll be responsible,
said the alleged owner of the house. Take him to
the station. I refuse to move, I said, I'll not
(37:33):
carry us, said the policeman, and I'd advise you to
furnish your own look emotion have ye don't, I'll use
me club Dot's the only way you'll get the ambulance.
Oh well, if you insist, I replied, of course, I'll go.
I have nothing to fear, you see, added five thousand
(37:54):
ten to me in parentheses. The thought suddenly flashed across
my mind that if all all was as my captor said,
if the house really was his and not the ghost clubs,
and if the whole thing was only my fancy, the
spoons themselves would turn out to be entirely fanciful. So
I was all right, or least I thought I was.
(38:17):
So we trotted along to the police station. On the way,
I told the policeman the whole story, which impressed him
so much that he crossed himself a half dozen times
and uttered numerous ejaculatory prayers, My the Shin's preserve us
and Heaven, how mercy, and others of a like import.
(38:38):
Was the ghost of Dan O'Connell dare? He asked, yes,
I replied, I shook hands with it. Let me shake
Dot Hannah, he said, his voice trembling with emotion, and
then he whispered in my ear all believes ye to
be innocent, but ave ye's haven't. For the love of Dan,
I'll let ye's escape. Thanks old fellow, I replied, But
(39:00):
I am innocent of wrong doing, as I can prove
alas sighed the convict, It was not to be so.
When I arrived at the station house, I was dumbfounded
to learn that the spoons were all too real. I
told my story to the sergeant and pointed to the
monogram g C on the spoons as evidence that my
(39:21):
story was correct. But even that told against me, for
the alleged owners were g C, his name I withhold,
and the monogram only served to substantiate his claim to
the spoons. Worst of all, he claimed that he had
been robbed on several occasions before this, and by midnight
I found myself locked up in a dirty cell to
(39:44):
await trial. I got a lawyer, and, as I said before,
even he declined to believe my story and suggested the
insanity dodge. Of course I wouldn't agree to that. I
tried to get him to subpoena Ferdinand and Isabella and Neuripie.
It's in Hawley Hicks, in my behalf and all he'd
do is sit there and shake his head at me.
(40:06):
Then I suggested going up to the Metropolitan Opera House
some fearful night as the clock struck twelve, and try
to serve papers on Wagner's Spook, all of which he
treated as unworthy of a moment's consideration. Then I was tried, convicted,
and sentenced to live in this beastly hole. But I
(40:26):
have one strong hope to buoy me up, and if
that is realized, I'll be free tomorrow morning. What is that,
I asked, Why, he answered with a sigh, as the
bell rang, summoning him to supper. Why the whole horrid
business has been so weird and uncanny that I'm beginning
to believe it's all a dream. If it is, why,
(40:50):
I'll wake up and find myself at home in bed.
That's all. I've clung to, that hope for nearly a
year now, but it's getting weaker every minute. Yes, five
thousand ten, I answered, rising and shaking him by the
hand and parting, that's a mighty forlorn hope, because I'm
pretty wide awake myself at this moment and can't be
(41:11):
a part of your dream. The Great pity is that
you didn't try the insanity dodge. Tut He answered, that
is the last resource of a weak mind. The End
of the Ghost Club An unfortunate episode in the Life
of Number five thousand ten by John Kendrick Bangs
The Ghost Club. An unfortunate episode in the Life of
Number five thousand ten by John Kendrick bangs Bread by
John Taylor, Southeast Missouri, September two thousand six. Number five
thousand ten was, at the time I received the details
(00:22):
of this story from his lips, a stalwart man of
thirty eight, swart of Hugh, of pleasing address, and altogether
the last person one would take for a convict serving
time for sneak thieving. The only outer symptoms of his
actual condition wore the striped suit he wore, the style
(00:43):
and cut of which are still in vogue at Sing
Sing prison, and the closely cropped hair, which showed off
the distinctly intellectual lines of his head to great advantage.
He was engaged in making shoes when I first saw him,
and so impressed was I with the contrast between his
(01:03):
really refined features and grace of manner and those of
his brutish looking companions, that I asked my guide who
he was and what were the circumstances which had brought
him to Sing Sing. He pegs shoes like a gentleman,
I said, yes, returned the keeper. He's very troublesome that way.
(01:25):
He thinks he's too good for his position. We can't
never do nothing with the boots he makes. Why do
you keep him at work in the shoe department, I queried.
We haven't got no work to be done in his
special line, so we have to put him at whatever
we can. He pegs shoes less badly than he does
anything else. What was his special line? He was a
(01:49):
gentleman of leisure, traveling for his health. Afore he got
into the toils of the law. His real name is
Marmaduke Fitztappington, a wolf of pel Hamhurst by the Sea, Warwickshire.
He landed in this country of a Tuesday, took to
collect in souvenir spoons of a Friday, was jugged the
(02:13):
same day, tried, convicted, and there he sets in for
two years more. How interesting, I said, was the evidence
against him conclusive? Extremely? A half dozen spoons was found
on his person. He pleaded guilty, I suppose not him.
(02:36):
He claimed to be as innocent as a new born babe,
told a cock and bull story about having been deluded
by spirits. But the judge and jury wasn't to be fooled.
They gave him every chance too. He even cabled himself.
The judge did to pel Hamhurst by the Sea, Warwickshire,
(02:57):
at his own expense, to see if the man was
an but he never got no reply. There was them
as said, there wasn't no such place as pel Hamhurst
by the Sea in Warwickshire, but they never proved it.
I should like very much to interview him, said I.
It can't be done, sir, said my guide. The rules
(03:19):
is very strict. You couldn't er arrange an interview for me,
I asked, jingling a bunch of keys in my pocket.
He must have recognized the sound, for he colored and
gruffly replied, I has me orders, and I obey him.
Just er add this to the pension fund I put in,
(03:41):
handing him a five dollar bill. An interview is impossible, eh,
I didn't say impossible, he answered, with a grateful smile.
I said, against the rules, but we has been known
to make exceptions. I think I can fix you up.
Suffice it to say that he did fix me up,
(04:02):
and that two hours later, five thousand ten and I
sat down together in the cell of the former a
not too commodious stall, and had a pleasant chat, in
the course of which he told me the story of
his life, which, as I had surmised, was to me
at least exceedingly interesting and easily worth twice the amount
(04:22):
of my contribution to the pension fund. Under the management
of my guide of the morning, my real name, said
the unfortunate convict, as you may have already guessed, is
not five thousand ten. That is an alias forced upon
me by the state authorities. My name is really Austin Merton.
Surreends ahem, I said, Then, my guide aired this morning
(04:48):
when he told me that in reality you were Marmaduke Fitztappington,
de Wolfe of Pelhamhurst by the Sea, Warwickshire, number five
thousand ten, laughed long and loud. Of course, he aired.
You don't suppose that I would give the authorities my
real name, do you? Why? Man? I am a nephew.
(05:09):
I have an aged uncle, a rich millionaire uncle, whose
heart and will it would break were he to hear
of my present plight. Both the heart and will are
in my favor, hence my tender solicitude for him. I
am innocent, of course, Convicts always are, you know, but
that wouldn't make any difference. He'd die of mortification just
(05:31):
the same. It's one of our family traits that so
I gave a false name to the authorities and secretly
informed my uncle that I was about to set out
for a walking trip across the Great American Desert, requesting
him not to worry if he did not hear from
me for a number of years, America being in a
state of semi civilization, to which males outside of certain
(05:55):
districts are entirely unknown. My uncle, being an Englishman and
a conservative gentlemen, addicted more to reading than to travel,
accepts the information as voracious and suspects nothing. And when
I am liberated, I shall return to him, and at
his death shall become a conservative man of wealth myself. See.
(06:16):
But if you are innocent and he rich and influential,
why did you not appeal to him to save you,
I asked, because I was afraid that he, like the
rest of the world, would decline to believe my defense
sighed fivey ten. It was a good defense if the
judge had only known it, and I'm proud of it.
(06:37):
But ineffectual I put in, and so not good Alas, Yes,
this is an incredulous age. People, particularly judges, are hard
headed practical men of affairs. My defense was suited more
for an age of mystical tendencies. Why will you believe it? Sir?
(06:58):
My own lawyer, the man to whom I paid eighteen
dollars and seventy five cents for championing my cause, told
me the defense was rubbish, devoid even of literary merit.
What chance could a man have if his lawyer even
didn't believe in him? None, I answered, sadly, And you
(07:19):
had no chance at all, though innocent. Yes, I had one,
and I chose not to take it. I might have
proved myself non compostmenttis, but that involved my making a
fool myself in public before a jury, and I have
too much dignity for that. I can tell you. I
told my lawyer that I should prefer a felon cell
(07:42):
to the richly furnished flat of a wealthy lunatic, to
which he replied, then all is lost, And so it was.
I read my defense in court. The judge laughed, the
jury whispered, and I was convicted instanter of stealing spoons,
when murder itself was no further from my thoughts than theft.
(08:05):
But they tell me you were caught red handed, said,
I were not a half dozen spoons found upon your
person in my hand, returned the prisoner. The spoons were
in my hand when I was arrested, and they were
seen there by the owner, by the police, and by
the usual crowd of small boys that congregate at such
embarrassing moments, springing up out of the sidewalks, dropping down
(08:29):
from the heavens, swarming in from everywhere. I had no
idea there were so many small boys in the world
until I was arrested and found myself the sinister of
a million or more innocent blue eyes. Were they all
blue eyed? I requeried, thinking the point interesting from a
scientific point of view, hoping to discover that curiosity of
(08:51):
a morbid character was always found in connection with eyes
of a specified hue. Oh no, I fancy not, returned
my host, but to a man with a load of
another fellow's spoons in his possession and a pair of
handcuffs on his wrists. Everything looks blue, I don't doubt it,
I replied, But uh, just how now could you defend
(09:15):
yourself when every bit of evidence, and you will excuse
me for saying so conclusive evidence at that pointed to
your guilt. The spoons were a gift, he answered, but
the owner denied that I know it. That's where the
beastly part of it all came in. They were not
given to me by the owner, but by a lot
(09:38):
of mean, low down, practical, joke loving ghosts. Number fivey
ten's anger as he spoke these words was terrible to witness,
And as he strode up and down the floor of
his cell and dashed his arms right and left, I
wished for a moment that I was elsewhere. I should
(09:58):
not have flown. However, even had the cell door been
opened and my way clear, for his suggestion of a
supernatural agency in connection with his crime whetted my curiosity
until it was more keen than ever, and I made
up my mind to hear the story to the end
if I had to commit a crime and get myself
(10:19):
sentenced to confinement in that prison for life to do so. Fortunately,
extreme measures of this nature were unnecessary, for after a
few moments, Surrenes calmed down, and, seating himself beside me
on the cot, drained his water pitcher to the dregs,
and began excuse me for not offering you a drink.
(10:39):
He said. But the wine they serve here, while moist,
is hardly what a connoisseur would choose except for bathing purposes.
And I compliment you by assuming that you do not
wish to taste it. Thank you, I said, I do
not like to take water straight exactly, I always dilute it.
In fact, with a little of this here. I extracted
(11:01):
a small flask from my pocket and handed it to him. Ah,
he said, smacking his lips as he took a long
pull at its contents. That puts spirit into a man. Yes,
it does, I replied, ruefully, as I noted that he
had left me very little but the flask. But I
don't think it was necessary for you to deprive me
(11:24):
of all mine. No, that is, you can't appreciate the
necessity unless you, Ah, you have suffered in your life
as I am suffering. You are never sent up yourself.
I gave him a glance, which was all indignation. I
guess not, I said, I have led a life that
is above reproach. Good, he replied, And what a satisfaction
(11:48):
that is. Eh. I don't believe I'd be able to
stand this jail life if it wasn't for my conscience,
which is as clear and clean as it would be
if I'd never used it. Would you mind telling me
what your defense was, I asked, certainly, not, said he cheerfully.
(12:09):
I'd be very glad to give it to you, but
you must remember one thing. It is copyrighted. Fire ahead,
I said, with a smile. I'll respect your copyright. I'll
give you a royalty on what I get for the story.
Very good, he answered, It was like this. To begin.
I must tell you that when I was a boy
(12:29):
preparing for college, I had for a chum a brilliant,
fun loving fellow named Holly Hicks, concerning whose future various
prophecies had been made. His mother often asserted that he
would be a great poet. His father thought that he
was born to be a great general. Our head master
at the Scarberry Institute for Young Gentlemen prophecied the gallows
(12:53):
they were all wrong, though for myself I think that
if he had lived long enough, almost any one of
the prophecies might have come true. The trouble was that
Holly died at the age of twenty three, fifteen years elapsed.
I was graduated with high honors at Brosno's lived a
life of elegant leisure, and at the age of thirty seven,
(13:16):
broke down in health. That was about a year ago.
My uncle, whose air and constant companion I was, gave
me a liberal allowance and sent me off to travel.
I came to America, landed in New York early in September,
and set about winning back the color which had departed
from my cheeks by an assiduous devotion to such pleasures
(13:40):
as New York affords. Two days after my arrival, I
set out for an airing at Coney Island, leaving my
hotel at four in the afternoon. On my way down Broadway,
I was suddenly startled at hearing my name spoken from
behind me, and appalled on turning to see standing with
(14:00):
outstretched hands no less a person than my defunct chum,
Holly Hicks. Impossible, said I exactly. My remark returned number
five Thy ten, to which I added, Holly Hicks, it
can't be you, but it is me. He replied, and
(14:22):
then I was convinced, for Holly never was good on
his grammar. I looked at him a minute, and then
I said, but Holly, I thought you were dead. I am,
he answered, But Why should a little thing like that
stand between friends? It shouldn't, Holly, I answered meekly. But
it's condemnedly unusual, you know, for man to associate even
(14:46):
with his best friends fifteen years after they've died and
been buried. Do you mean to say, Austin, that, just
because I was weak enough once to succumb to a
bad cold, you, the dearest friend of my youth, the
closest companion of my school days, the partner of my
(15:07):
childish joys, intend to go back on me here in
a strange city, Hally, I answered, huskily, Not a bit
of it. My letter of credit, my room at the hotel,
my dress suit, even my ticket to Coney Island are
at your disposal. But I think the partner of your
childish joys ought first to be let in on the
(15:30):
ground floor of this enterprise and informed how the deuce
you managed to turn up in New York fifteen years
subsequent to your obsequies. Is New York the hereafter for
boys of your kind? Or is this some freak of
my imagination? That was an eminently proper question I put
in just to show that while the story I was
(15:52):
hearing terrified me I was not altogether speechless. It was, indeed,
said five thousand ten, and Hally reckedgnized it as such,
for he replied at once, neither said he. Your imagination
is all right, and New York is neither Heaven nor
the other place. The fact is, I'm spooking, and I
(16:13):
can tell you, Austin, it's just about the finest kind
of work there is. If you could manage to shuffle
off your mortal coil and get in with a lot
of ghosts the way I have, you'd be playing in
great luck. Thanks for the hint, Holly, I said, with
a grateful smile. But to tell you the truth, I
(16:34):
do not find that life is entirely bad. I get
my three meals a day, keep my pocket full of coin,
and sleep eight hours every night on a couch that
couldn't be more desirable if it were studded with jewels
and had mineral springs. That's your mortal ignorance, Austin, he retorted,
I lived long enough to appreciate the necessity of being ignorant.
(16:58):
But your style of existence is really not to be
mentioned in the same cycle with mine. You talk about
three meals a day, as if that were an ideal.
You forget that. With the eating, your labor is just begun.
Those meals have to be digested, every one of them.
And if you could only understand it, it would appall
(17:19):
you to see what a fearful, wear and tear that
act of digestion is in my life. You are feasting
all the time, but with no need for digestion. You
speak of money in your pockets, Well I have none,
yet I am the richer of the two. I don't
need money. The world is mine. If I chose to,
(17:41):
I could pour the contents of that jeweler's window into
your lap in five seconds. But quibono, the gems delight
my eyes quite as well where they are. And as
for travelostin of which you have always been fond, the
spectral method beats all. I watched him as well as
(18:02):
I could for a minute, said fivey ten, and then
he disappeared. In another minute he was before me again. Well,
I said, I suppose you've been around the block in
that time, eh, he roared with laughter. Around the block,
he ejaculated. I have done the continent of Europe, taking
(18:23):
a run through China, haunted the Emperor of Japan, and
sailed round the horn since I left you a minute ago.
He was a truthful boy in spite of his peculiarities,
Holly was said Sirrens quietly, So I had to believe
what he said. He abhorred lies. That was pretty fast traveling, though,
(18:44):
said I. He'd make a fine messenger boy. That's so.
I wish i'd suggested it to him, smiled my host.
But I can tell you, sir, I was astonished, Holly,
I said, you always were a fast youth, but I
never thought you would develop into this. I wonder you
not out of breath after such a journey. Another point,
(19:06):
my dear Austin, in favor of my mode of existence.
We spooks have no breath to begin with. Consequently, to
get out of it is no deprivation, but I say,
He added, whither Are you bound to Coney Island to
see the sights? I replied, won't you join me? Not I,
he replied, Coney Island is tame. When I first joined
(19:28):
the Specter Band, it seemed to me that nothing could
delight me more than an eternal round of gaiety like that.
But Austin, I have changed. I have developed a good
deal since you and I were parted at the grave.
I should say you had, I answered, I doubt if
many of your old friends would know you. You seem
(19:50):
to have had difficulty in so doing yourself Austin, he
replied regretfully. But see here, old chap, give up Coney
Island and spend the evening with me at the club.
You'll have a good time. I can assure you. The club,
I said. You don't mean to say you visions have
a club I do. Indeed, the Ghost Club is the
(20:11):
most flourishing association of choice spirits in the world. We
have rooms in every city in Creation, and the finest
part of it is there are no dues to be paid.
The membership list holds some of the finest names in history. Shakespeare,
Milton Chaucer, Napoleon Bonaparte, Caesar, George Washington, Mozart, Frederick the Great,
(20:39):
Mark Antony Cassius was blackballed on Caesar's account. Galileo confucious.
You admit the Chinese, eh, I queried, Not always, he replied,
But Khan was such a good fellow. They hadn't the
heart to keep him out. But you see, Austin, what
a lot of fine fellows there are in it. Yes,
(21:00):
it's a magnificent list, and I should say they make
a pretty interesting set of fellows to hear talk, I
put in, Well rather, Holly replied, I wish you could
have heard a debate between Shakespeare and Caesar on the Revolution.
The pen is mightier than the sword. It was immense.
I should think it might have been, I said, which
(21:23):
one the sword party? They were the best fighters, though
on the merits of the argument, Shakespeare was way ahead.
If I thought I'd stand a chance of seeing spooks
like that, I think I'd give up Coney Island and
go with you, I said. Well, replied Holly, that's just
the kind of a chance you do stand. They'll all
(21:44):
be there tonight, and as this is lady's day, you
might meet Lucretia, Borgia, Cleopatra, and a few other feminine
apparitions of considerable note. That settles it. I am yours
for the rest of the day, I said, And so
we had a journed to the rooms of the Ghost Club.
These rooms were in a beautiful house on Fifth Avenue.
(22:06):
The number of the house you will find on consulting
the court records. I have forgotten it. It was a large,
broad brown stone structure, and must have been over one
hundred and fifty feet in depth. Such fittings I never
saw before. Everything was in the height of luxury, and
I am quite certain that among beings to whom money
(22:29):
is a measure of possibility, no such magnificence as attainable.
The paintings on the walls were by the most famous
artists of our own and other days. The rugs on
these superbly polished floors were worth fortunes, not only for
their exquisite beauty, but also for their extreme rarity. In
(22:50):
keeping with these were the furniture and bric a brac.
In short, my dear sir, I had never dreamed of
anything so dazzlingly, so perbly magnificent as that apartment into
which I was ushered by the ghost of my quondam
friend Holly Hicks. At first I was speechless with wonder,
which seemed to amuse Hicks very much. Pretty fine, ay,
(23:14):
he said, with a short laugh. Well, I replied in
a moment, considering that you can get along without money,
and that all the resources of the world are at
your disposal, it is not more than half bad. Have
you a library? I was always fond of Books, explained
five thousand ten in parentheses to me, and so was
(23:36):
quite anxious to see what the Club of Ghosts could
show in the way of literary treasures. Imagine my surprise
when Holly informed me that the club had no collection
of the sort to appeal to the bibliophile. No, he answered,
we have no library. Rather strange, I said that a
club to which men like Shakespeare, Milton Edgar, Allan Poe,
(24:00):
and other deceased literati belong should be deficient in that respect.
Not at all, said he. Why should we want books
when we have the men themselves to tell their tales
to us? Would you give a rap to possess a
set of Shakespeare? If William himself would sit down and
rattle off the whole business to you any time he
(24:20):
chose to ask him to do it. Would you follow
Scott's printed narratives through their devious and tedious periods? If
Sir Walter in spirit would come to you on demand
and tell you all the old stories over again in
a tenth part of the time it would take you
to read the introduction to one of them. I fancy not,
I said, Are you in such luck? I am? Said Holly?
(24:45):
Only personally. I never send for Scott or Shakespeare. I
prefer something lighter than either Douglas Gerald or Marryatt. But
best of all, I like to sit down and hear
Noah swap animal stories with Davy Crockett, nos the brightest
man of his age in the club, Adam's kind of slow.
(25:06):
How about Solomon? I asked more to be flippant than
with any desire for information. I was much amused to
hear Hawlly speak of these great spirits as if he
and they were chums of long standing. Solomon has resigned
from the club, he said, with a sad sigh. He
was a good fellow. Solomon was, but he thought he
(25:27):
knew it all until old doctor Johnson got hold of him,
and then he knuckled under. It's rather rough for a
man to get firmly established in his belief that he
is the wisest creature going, and then, after a couple
of thousand years, have an Englishman come along and tell
him things he never knew before, especially the way sam
(25:48):
Johnson delivers himself of his opinions. Johnson never cared whom
he hurt, you know, And when he got after Solomon,
he did it with all his might. I wonder if
Boswell was there, I ventured, interrupting five thousand ten in
his extraordinary narrative for an instant. Yes, he was there,
returned the prisoner. I met him later in the evening.
(26:09):
But he isn't the spook he might be. He never
had much spirit anyhow, and when he died he had
to leave his nose behind him, and that settled him.
Of course, I answered, Boswell, with no nose to stick
into other people's affairs, would have been like a fellow
with Desdemona left out. But go on, what did you
do next? Well five thousand ten resumed. After I'd looked
(26:33):
about me and drunk my fill of the magnificence on
every hand, Hawley took me into the music room and
introduced me to Mozart and Wagner and a few other
great composers. In response to my request, Wagner played an
impromptu version of Daisy Bell on the organ. It was great.
Not much like Daisy Bell, of course, more like a
(26:55):
collision between a cyclone and a simoom in a tin
plate mining camp in fact, but nevertheless marvelous. I tried
to remember it afterwards and jotted down a few notes,
but I found the first bar took up seven sheets
a fool's cap, and so gave it up. Then Mozart
tried his hand on a banjo for my amusement. Mendelssohn
(27:17):
sang a half dozen of his songs without words, and
then gotchoc played one of Poe's weird stories on the piano.
Then Carlyle came in, and Hawley introduced me to him.
He was a gruff old gentleman and seemingly anxious to
have Freud become ineligible. And I judged from the rather
fierce manner in which he handled a club he had
(27:38):
in his hand that there were one or two other
men of prominence still living. He was anxious to meet.
Dickens too, was desirous of a two minute interview with
certain of his at present purely mortal critics. And between
you and me, if the wink that Bacon gave Shakespeare
when I spoke of ignatious Donnelly meant anything, the famous
(27:59):
Cryptogrammire will do well to drink a bottle of the
elixir of life every morning before breakfast and stave off
dissolution as long as he can. There's no getting around
the fact Sir. Sirrenz added, with a significant shake of
his head, that the present leaders of literary thought with
critical tendencies are going to have the hardest kind of
(28:20):
time when they cross the river and apply for admission
to the Ghost Club. I don't ask for any better
fun than that of watching from a safe distance the
initiation ceremonies of the next dozen who go over and
as an Englishman, Sir, who thoroughly believes in and admires
Lord Wolsey, if I were out of jail unable to
(28:42):
do it, I'd write him a letter and warn him
that he would better revise his estimates of certain famous
soldiers no longer living if he desires to find rest
in that mysterious other world whither he must eventually betake himself.
They've got their swords sharpened for him, and he'll discover
an instance when he gets over there in which the
sword is mightier than the pen. After that, Hawley took
(29:06):
me upstairs and introduced me to the spirit of Napoleon Bonaparte,
with whom I passed about twenty five minutes talking over
his victories and defeats. He told me he could never
understand how a man like Wellington came to defeat him
at Waterloo and added that he had sounded the Iron
Duke on the subject and found him equally ignorant. So
(29:27):
the afternoon and evening passed, I met quite a number
of famous ladies, Catherine, Marie, Louise, Josephine, Queen Elizabeth and others.
Talked architecture with Queen Anne, and was surprised to learn
that she never saw a Queen Anne cottage. I took
peg Woffington down to supper and all together had a
(29:48):
fine time of it. But my dear Surrends, I put
in at this point, I failed to see what this
has to do with your defense in your trial for
stealing spoons. I'm coming to that, said five thousand ten. Sadly,
I dwell on the moments pasted at the club because
they were the happiest of my life, and I am
(30:08):
loath to speak of what followed, but I suppose I must.
It was all due to Queen Isabella that I got
into trouble. Peg Woffington presented me to Queen Isabella in
the supper room, and while her majesty and I were talking,
I spoke of how beautiful everything in the club was
and admired, especially a half dozen old Spanish spoons upon
(30:31):
the sideboard. When I had done this, the Queen called
to Ferdinand, who was chatting with Columbus on the other
side of the room, to come to her, which he
did with alacrity. I was presented to the King, and
then my troubles began. Mister Currens, admires our spoons, Ferdinand,
said the queen. The King smiled, and, turning to me, observed, Sir,
(30:53):
they are yours, ah waiter. Just do these spoons up
and give them to mister Cerends, of course, said five
thousand ten. I protested against this, whereupon the King looked displeased.
It is a rule of our club, Sir, as well
as an old Spanish custom, for us to present to
our guests anything that they may happen openly to admire.
(31:17):
You are surely sufficiently well acquainted with the etiquette of
club life to know that guests may not, with propriety
decline to be governed by the regulations of the club
whose hospitality they are in join. I certainly am aware
of that, my dear King, I replied, and of course
I accept the spoons with exceeding deep gratitude. My remonstrance
(31:39):
was prompted solely by my desire to explain to you
that I was unaware of any such regulation, and to
assure you that when I ventured to inform your good
wife that the spoons had excited my sincerest admiration, I
was not hinting that it would please me greatly to
be accounted their possessor. Your courtly speech, Sir, returned the
(32:01):
King with a low bow, is ample assurance of your sincerity.
And I beg that you will put the spoons in
your pocket and say no more. They are yours. Verb sap.
I thanked the great Spaniard and said no more, pocketing
the spoons with no little exultation, because having always been
(32:22):
a lover of the quaint and beautiful, I was glad
to possess such treasures, though I must confess to some
misgivings as to the possibility of their being unreal. Shortly
after this episode, I looked at my watch and discovered
that it was getting well on towards eleven o'clock, and
I sought out Holly for the purpose of thanking him
for a delightful evening and of taking my leave. I
(32:45):
met him in the hall, talking to Euripides on the
subject of the amateur stage in the United States. What
they said I did not stop to hear, but, offering
my hand to Holly, informed him of my intention to depart. Well,
old check, he said, affectionately, I'm glad you came. It's
always a pleasure to see you, and I hope we
(33:06):
may meet again sometime soon. And then, catching sight of
my bundle, he asked, what have you there. I informed
him of the episode in the supper room, and fancied.
I perceived a look of annoyance on his countenance. I
didn't want to take them, Holly, I said, but Ferdinand insisted,
Oh it's all right, returned Holly, only, I'm sorry. You'd
(33:29):
better get along home with them as quickly as you
can and say nothing. And above all, don't try to
sell them. But why, I asked, I'd much prefer to
leave them here, if there is any question of the
propriety of my here continued fivey ten. Holly seemed to
grow impatient, for he stamped his foot angrily and bade
(33:51):
me go at once, or there might be trouble. I
proceeded to obey him and left the house instanter, slamming
the door somewhat angrily behind me. Hawley's unceremonious way of
speeding his parting guests did not seem to me to
be exactly what I had a right to expect at
the time. I see now what his object was, and
(34:12):
to quit him of any intention to be rude, though,
I must say, if I ever catch him again, I'll
wring an explanation from him for having introduced me into
such bad company. As I walked down the steps said
five thy ten. The chimes of the neighboring church were
clinging out the hour of eleven. I stopped on the
(34:33):
last step to look for a possible handsome cab, when
a portly gentleman accompanied by a lady started to mount
the stoop. The man eyed me narrowly for a moment,
and then sending the lady up the steps, he turned
to me and said, what are you doing here? I've
just left the club. I answered, it's all right. I
(34:53):
was Holly Hicks's guest. Whose ghost are you? What the
deuce are you talking about, he asked, rather gruffly, much
to my surprise and discomfort, I tried to give you
a civil answer to your question, I returned indignantly. I
guess you're crazy or a thief. He rejoined. See here, friend,
(35:15):
I put in rather impressively. Just remember one thing, you
are talking to a gentleman, and I don't take remarks
of that sort from anybody, spook or otherwise. I don't
care if you are the ghost of the Emperor Nero.
If you give me any more of your impudence, I'll
dissipate you to the four quarters of the universe. See
(35:38):
Then he grabbed me and shouted for the police. And
I was painfully surprised to find that, instead of coping
with a mysterious being from another world, I had two
hundred and ten pounds of flesh and blood to handle.
The populace began to gather the million and a half
of small boys of whom I have already spoken. Most
(36:00):
screet gammons, owing to the lateness of the hour, sprang
up from all about us. Handsome cab drivers, attracted by
the noise of our altercation, drew up to the sidewalk
to watch developments, and then, after the usual fifteen or
twenty minutes, the blue coat emissary of justice appeared. What's this?
He asked, I have detected this man leaving my house
(36:24):
in a suspicious manner, said my adversary, I have reason
to suspect him of thieving your house, I ejaculated with
fine scorn. I've got you there. This is the house
of the New York branch of the Ghost Club. If
you want it proved, I added, turning to the policeman
ring the bell, and ask I think that's a fair proposition,
(36:49):
observed the policeman. Is the motion seconded. Oh come now,
cried my captor. Stop this nonsense, or I'll report you
to the department. This is my house and has been
for twenty years. I want this man searched. I have
no warrant permitthen me to investigate the contents of the
gentleman's clothes, returned the intelligent member of the force. But
(37:13):
a yus. I'll take your solemn alibi that yees have
raisen to believe the gentleman has worked only habeas corpus
business on your property. I'll jug the blagyard. I'll be responsible,
said the alleged owner of the house. Take him to
the station. I refuse to move, I said, I'll not
(37:33):
carry us, said the policeman, and I'd advise you to
furnish your own look emotion have ye don't, I'll use
me club Dot's the only way you'll get the ambulance.
Oh well, if you insist, I replied, of course, I'll go.
I have nothing to fear, you see, added five thousand
(37:54):
ten to me in parentheses. The thought suddenly flashed across
my mind that if all all was as my captor said,
if the house really was his and not the ghost clubs,
and if the whole thing was only my fancy, the
spoons themselves would turn out to be entirely fanciful. So
I was all right, or least I thought I was.
(38:17):
So we trotted along to the police station. On the way,
I told the policeman the whole story, which impressed him
so much that he crossed himself a half dozen times
and uttered numerous ejaculatory prayers, My the Shin's preserve us
and Heaven, how mercy, and others of a like import.
(38:38):
Was the ghost of Dan O'Connell dare? He asked, yes,
I replied, I shook hands with it. Let me shake
Dot Hannah, he said, his voice trembling with emotion, and
then he whispered in my ear all believes ye to
be innocent, but ave ye's haven't. For the love of Dan,
I'll let ye's escape. Thanks old fellow, I replied, But
(39:00):
I am innocent of wrong doing, as I can prove
alas sighed the convict, It was not to be so.
When I arrived at the station house, I was dumbfounded
to learn that the spoons were all too real. I
told my story to the sergeant and pointed to the
monogram g C on the spoons as evidence that my
(39:21):
story was correct. But even that told against me, for
the alleged owners were g C, his name I withhold,
and the monogram only served to substantiate his claim to
the spoons. Worst of all, he claimed that he had
been robbed on several occasions before this, and by midnight
I found myself locked up in a dirty cell to
(39:44):
await trial. I got a lawyer, and, as I said before,
even he declined to believe my story and suggested the
insanity dodge. Of course I wouldn't agree to that. I
tried to get him to subpoena Ferdinand and Isabella and Neuripie.
It's in Hawley Hicks, in my behalf and all he'd
do is sit there and shake his head at me.
(40:06):
Then I suggested going up to the Metropolitan Opera House
some fearful night as the clock struck twelve, and try
to serve papers on Wagner's Spook, all of which he
treated as unworthy of a moment's consideration. Then I was tried, convicted,
and sentenced to live in this beastly hole. But I
(40:26):
have one strong hope to buoy me up, and if
that is realized, I'll be free tomorrow morning. What is that,
I asked, Why, he answered with a sigh, as the
bell rang, summoning him to supper. Why the whole horrid
business has been so weird and uncanny that I'm beginning
to believe it's all a dream. If it is, why,
(40:50):
I'll wake up and find myself at home in bed.
That's all. I've clung to, that hope for nearly a
year now, but it's getting weaker every minute. Yes, five
thousand ten, I answered, rising and shaking him by the
hand and parting, that's a mighty forlorn hope, because I'm
pretty wide awake myself at this moment and can't be
(41:11):
a part of your dream. The Great pity is that
you didn't try the insanity dodge. Tut He answered, that
is the last resource of a weak mind. The End
of the Ghost Club An unfortunate episode in the Life
of Number five thousand ten by John Kendrick Bangs
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