Mr Willet, with great indignation, inquired what the devil he meant by that--and then said, 'God forgive me,' and glanced over his own shoulder, and came a little nearer.
'When I left here to-night,' said Solomon Daisy, 'I little thought what day of the month it was.

I have never gone alone into the church after dark on this day, for seven-and-twenty years.

I have heard it said that as we keep our birthdays when we are alive, so the ghosts of dead people, who are not easy in their graves, keep the day they died upon .-- How the wind roars!' Nobody spoke.

All eyes were fastened on Solomon.
'I might have known,' he said, 'what night it was, by the foul weather.
There's no such night in the whole year round as this is, always.

I never sleep quietly in my bed on the nineteenth of March.' 'Go on,' said Tom Cobb, in a low voice.