under her nose. I never see’d a ghost myself; but then I says to myself, ‘Very like I haven’t got the smell for ’em.’ I mean, putting a ghost for a smell, or else contrairiways. And so I’m for holding with both sides; for, as I say, the truth lies between ’em. And if Dowlas was to go and stand and say he’d never seen a wink o’ Cliff’s Holiday all the night through, I’d back him; and if anybody said as Cliff’s Holiday was certain sure for all that, I’d back him too. For the smell’s what I go by.”

The landlord’s analogical argument was not well received by the farrier, a man intensely opposed to compromise.

“Tut, tut,” he said, setting down his glass with refreshed irritation; “what’s the smell got to do with it? Did ever a ghost give a man a black eye? that’s what I should like to know. If ghos’es want me to believe in ’em, let ’em leave off skulking i’ the dark and i’ lone places; let ’em come where there’s company and candles.”

“As if ghos’es ’ud want to be believed in by anybody so ignorant!” said Mr. Macey, in deep disgust at the farrier’s crass incompetence to apprehend the conditions of ghostly phenomena.