A True Ghost Story

by Judge Clark

Half way up the mountain side, looking down upon the valley of the Cumberland, twenty years ago, stood a country inn, famous for the goodness of its cheer and the heartiness of its host, Cleophas Coote by name.

In the summer of 1850, the “Mountain Home”—so the inn was called—had more than its usual quota of visitors, one of whom had come to die. After a few days he kept his room, and in a few more he breathed his last, whispering the names of loved ones far away.

When the stranger’s trunk was opened, (which was done by the landlord in the presence of two of his guests—one a doctor, the other a clergyman—at least we took him for such, on the strength of his cravat and conversation.) it was found to contain a considerable sum in banknotes. Of these Mr. Coote made a complete list, noting their numbers and denominations; after which he carefully sealed them up, and locked them in a drawer in his own bedroom—facts to which he likewise called the attention of the doctor and the minister.

On the evening of the funeral, the conversation, as was natural, took a serious turn.

From death the transition was easy to the subject of departed spirits and their status. And here an animated discussion sprang up between the clergyman and the doctor.

“Whatever may or mayn’t be,” interposed our worthy host, “there’s one thing some of you may have reason to believe in before you leave these parts.”

“What’s that?” I ventured to ask.

“The Man of the Mountain,” Mr. Coote answered.

“And… Read More