This was a start , not a scare , for the new visitor was a human foe , and I had little fear of such , being possessed of good lungs , strong arms , and a Roman dagger nearly as big as a carving-knife . That step broke the spell , and , creeping noiselessly to the window , I peeped out to see a dark figure coming up the stem of the tall tree close by , hand over hand , like a sailor or a monkey . `` Two can play at that game , my friend ; you scare me , and I 'll scare you ; '' and with an actual sense of relief in breaking the oppressive silence , I suddenly flung up the curtain , and , leaning out , brandished my dagger with what I intended to be an awe-inspiring screech , but , owing to the flutter of my breath , the effort ended in a curious mixture of howl and bray . A most effective sound nevertheless ; for the rascal dropped as if shot , and , with one upward glance at the white figure dimly seen in the starlight , fled as if a legion of goblins were at his heels . `` What next ? '' thought I , wondering whether tragedy or comedy would close this eventful night . I sat and waited , chilly , but valiant , while the weird sounds went on within , and silence reigned without , till the cheerful crow of the punctual `` cockadoo , '' as Margie called him , announced the dawn and laid the ghosts . A red glow in the east banished my last fear , and , wrapping the drapery of my couch about me , I soon lay down to quiet slumber , quite worn out . The sun shining in my face waked me ; a bell ringing spasmodically warned me to hurry , and a childish voice calling out , `` Bet-fast is most weady , Miss Wee , '' assured me that sweet little spirits haunted the cottage as well as ghostly ones . As I left my room to join Margie , who was waiting in the porch , and looking like a rosy morning-glory half-way up the woodbine trellis , I saw two things which caused me to feel that the horrors of the night were not all imaginary . Just outside the back bedroom door was a damp place , as if that part of the floor had been newly washed ; and when , goaded by curiosity , I peeped through the keyhole of the haunted chamber , my eye distinctly saw an open razor lying on a dusty table . My vision was limited to that one object , but it was quite enough , and I went up the hill brooding darkly over the secret hidden in my breast . I longed to tell some one , but was ashamed , and , when asked why so pale and absent-minded , I answered , with a gloomy smile , -- `` It is the clams . '' All day I hid my sufferings pretty well , but as night approached , and I thought of another lonely vigil in the haunted cottage , my heart began to fail , and , when we sat telling stories in the dusk , a brilliant idea came into my head . I would relate my ghost story , and rouse the curiosity of the listeners to such a pitch that some of them would offer to share my quarters , in hopes of seeing the spirit of the restless Tucker . Cheered by this delusive fancy , when my turn came I made a thrilling tale of the night 's adventures , and , having worked my audience up to a flattering state of excitement , paused for applause . It came in a most unexpected form , however , for Mrs. Grant burst out laughing , and the two boys , Johnny and Joe , rolled off the piazza in convulsions of merriment . Much disgusted at this unseemly demonstration , I demanded the cause of it , and involuntarily joined in the general shout when Mrs. Grant demolished my ghost by informing me that Bezee Tucker lived , died in , and haunted the tumble-down house at the other end of the lane . `` Then who or what made those mysterious noises ? '' I asked , relieved but rather nettled at the downfall of my romance .
`` My brother Seth , '' replied Mrs. XXXXX , still laughing .
Bet-fast Grant Joe Johnny bray cockadoo day goblins night trellis