Border Ghost Stories
By Howard Pease
‘Eh, laddie, what a sermon I could preach to ye on this tremendous problem!’ he said regretfully, thinking him of my youthful years.
‘Aweel,’ he added discreetly, ‘I dinna ken your uncle—the responsible Deacon—save by sight and repute, as ane that disna spend, an’ isna verra sociable; yet he attends the Great Kirk, “comes forrit,” does he not, to the Holy Table?’ I nodded assent.
‘Is as reputable a citizen as any that treads on the High Street, and yet for a’ that he may have a canker o’ the soul. Aiblins Davie Hume has sapped his belief, and the muckle Deil, kennin’ that, is throwing a flee ower him as for a salmon the noo.’
As I sat there shivering all down my spine, my companion looked upon me very kindly from his thoughtful, gentle eyes of blue that faded to grey at the marge, and said, ‘Stop up your ears, laddie, like the adder, to any temptin’ o’ your uncle. Keep watch and ward, and, if need arise, run for me instantly, for, though I’m auld the noo, I’m aye ready for a warsil wi’ auld Hornie.’
Heartened by the minister’s sympathy and courage I returned to my uncle’s lodging in Blackfriars Wynd and continued to devote myself to his craft in the back of his booth in the High Street, which appealed to me greatly for ingenuity and skill.
In accord with my mother’s advice I had endeavored to cherish an affection for my uncle, yet withal there was something about the man that misliked me much, and, to speak straight to the point, that actually ‘fled’ me, for he would gloat o’ night over his glass of toddy on any scandal afloat concerning the ‘unco guid,’ and would speak with tongue i’ the cheek of virtue in general as if indeed hypocrisy were the true king of this world. I thought at first his purpose was to tease me and draw me out, but I soon came to believe it was all a part of the horrid nature of the man himself.
Further again than this, he seemed to exercise a dreadful and secret power over ‘Brownie’—his pathetic little serving boy, orphan and mute.
I had realized that ‘Brownie’ lived in terror of his employer, though I never saw him the victim of any physical ill-treatment; one night indeed he came shivering and terrified into my bedroom, and by signs gave me to understanding that my uncle was hunting for him, and it was not till I had bolted my door that he grew somewhat calmer.
Genre: Fiction And Literature | Ghost Stories
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Howard Pease
Howard Pease (September 6, 1894–April 14, 1974) was an American writer of adventure stories from Stockton, California. Most of his stories revolved around a young protagonist, Joseph Todhunter (“Tod”) Moran, who shipped out on tramp freighters during the interwar years.
Life
Pease was born in Stockton on September 6, 1894. For most of his life, he resided in the San Francisco, California, area, except for those times when he shipped out as a member of the crew on a freighter, searching for new material.
Pease decided to become a writer while in the sixth grade, and he wrote his first short story in 1907 during that school year. He attended Stanford University in Stanford, California, interrupted his studies for two years of United States Army service in Europe, then returned to graduate. During two summers, he shipped out as a wiper in the engine room of a cargo ship.
Pease’s first published work was a short story that appeared in the June 1921 edition of the children’s magazine The American Boy. He wrote his first novel, The Gypsy Caravan, in the early 1920s, although it was not published until 1930 when it became his fourth published novel. His first published novel was The Tattooed Man, based on two of his voyages and on a walking trip he took along the south coast of France from Marseilles to Italy; it appeared in 1926, and introduced Tod Moran, a young merchant mariner who is the protagonist in most of Pease’s novels, working his way up from wiper to first mate as the novels – sometimes referred to as “the Tod Moran mysteries” – progress. Recurring characters in the Tod Moran novels are his friends in the “black gang” (slang for the engine room crew), Toppy, a Cockney deckhand, and Sven, a Swede, as well as Captain Jarvis, master of the freighter Araby and a father figure to Tod.
By the late 1930s, Pease had written The Gypsy Caravan, Secret Cargo, and eight Tod Moran novels. He wanted to branch out beyond the creative constraints imposed by the Tod Moran series, but his editor at Doubleday insisted that he continue to write Tod Moran books exclusively. In response, he wrote Captain Binnacle and The Long Wharf, leading her to relent and allow him to write more on topics other than the adventures of Tod Moran. However, he continued the Tod Moran series as well; indeed, the last of his 22 published novels, Mystery on Telegraph Hill, was a Tod Moran mystery published in 1961.
In addition to writing children’s stories, Pease taught high school English and in the mid-1940s was the principal at Los Altos Elementary School. He also contributed to journals and reviewed books for The New York Times.
Pease died in San Rafael, California, on April 14, 1974. He is buried at Stockton Rural Cemetery in Stockton.
Howard Pease
