One winter night, at half-past nine, Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy, I had come home, too late to dine, And supper, with cigars and wine, Was waiting in the study.
There was a strangeness in the room, And Something white and wavy Was standing near me in the gloom— I took it for the carpet-broom Left by that careless slavey.
But presently the Thing began To shiver and to sneeze: On which I said “Come, come, my man! That’s a most inconsiderate plan. Less noise there, if you please!”
“I’ve caught a cold,” the Thing replies, “Out there upon the landing.” I turned to look in some surprise, And there, before my very eyes, A little Ghost was standing!
He trembled when he caught my eye, And got behind a chair. “How came you here,” I said, “and why? I never saw a thing so shy. Come out! Don’t shiver there!”
He said “I’d gladly tell you how, And also tell you why; But” (here he gave a little bow) “You’re in so bad a temper now, You’d think it all a lie.
“And as to being in a fright, Allow me to remark That Ghosts have just as good a right In every way, to fear the light, As Men to fear the dark.”
“No plea,” said I, “can well excuse Such cowardice in you: For Ghosts can visit when they choose, Whereas we Humans ca’n’t refuse To grant the interview.”
He said “A flutter of alarm Is not unnatural, is it? I really feared you meant some harm: But, now I see that you are calm, Let me explain my visit.
“Houses are classed, I beg to state, According to the number Of Ghosts that they accommodate: (The Tenant merely counts as weight, With Coals and other lumber).
“This is a ‘one-ghost’ house, and you When you arrived last summer, May have remarked a Spectre who Was doing all that Ghosts can do To welcome the new-comer.
“In Villas this is always done— However cheaply rented: For, though of course there’s less of fun When there is only room for one, Ghosts have to be contented.
“That Spectre left you on the Third— Since then you’ve not been haunted: For, as he never sent us word, ’Twas quite by accident we heard That any one was wanted.
“A Spectre has first choice, by right, In filling up a vacancy; Then Phantom, Goblin, Elf, and Sprite— If all these fail them, they invite The nicest Ghoul that they can see.
“The Spectres said the place was low, And that you kept bad wine: So, as a Phantom had to go, And I was first, of course, you know, I couldn’t well decline.”
“No doubt,” said I, “they settled who Was fittest to be sent Yet still to choose a brat like you, To haunt a man of forty-two, Was no great compliment!”
“I’m not so young, Sir,” he replied, “As you might think. The fact is, In caverns by the water-side, And other places that I’ve tried, I’ve had a lot of practice:
“But I have never taken yet A strict domestic part, And in my flurry I forget The Five Good Rules of Etiquette We have to know by heart.”
My sympathies were warming fast Towards the little fellow: He was so utterly aghast At having found a Man at last, And looked so scared and yellow.
“At least,” I said, “I’m glad to find A Ghost is not a dumb thing! But pray sit down: you’ll feel inclined (If, like myself, you have not dined) To take a snack of something:
“Though, certainly, you don’t appear A thing to offer food to! And then I shall be glad to hear— If you will say them loud and clear— The Rules that you allude to.”
“Thanks! You shall hear them by and by. This is a piece of luck!” “What may I offer you?” said I. “Well, since you are so kind, I’ll try A little bit of duck.
“One slice! And may I ask you for Another drop of gravy?” I sat and looked at him in awe, For certainly I never saw A thing so white and wavy.
And still he seemed to grow more white, More vapoury, and wavier— Seen in the dim and flickering light, As he proceeded to recite His “Maxims of Behaviour.”