THE MATE'S STORY. 



came, and upon my asking if Mrs. Wharton were at home, 

 she replied, ' Mrs. Wharton don't live here. Mrs. Some- 

 body or other lives here, and she ain't at home/ I asked 

 if she could tell me where to find Mrs. Wharton, and was 

 informed by the maid that she was a stranger and knew 

 nothing ; but the baker over the way, she thought, could 

 tell me. I went over and asked the baker's wife, and she 

 informed me that Mrs. Wharton had been dead nearly 

 five months, and her aunt had moved away. I was 

 thunderstruck at this intelligence, and immediately 

 inquired the date of her death; she looked over a day- 

 book in the drawer, and told me. I put it down in my 

 memorandum- book, and when I got back to the ship 

 I found the date the same as that noted on the leaf of the 

 log-book as the one that the captain had seen her off the 

 Cape. Now, I never was superstitious before this, nor 

 am I alarmed now at the idea of seeing ghosts, but still 

 there is a queer sort of feeling comes over me when I 

 think of that night. 



" When I got home to my friends, I told the clergyman 

 and the doctor what had been seen. The first explained 

 it to me as an optical delusion, but acknowledged that 

 it was very curious; the other looked into my eyes as 

 though he were trying to see some signs of insanity, and 

 told me it was very likely that the captain's supper had 

 disagreed with him that night, or that he was half-seas- 

 over. 



" Now, I haven't much learning myself, but I do despise 

 what I have seen called science ; men who study books 

 only, can't know so much as those who see the real 



