What had become of me? that is, what had
become of my body? Its disappearance threw me
into a phrensy; and I was about to run home, and
summon old Jim Jumble to help me look for it,
when I heard a dog yelping and whining in a peculiarly
doleful manner, at some little distance down
in the meadow; and I instantly ran in that direction,
thinking that perhaps the bloodthirsty beast might
be at that very moment dragging it away to devour
it,—or hoping, at the least, to light upon some one
who could give me an account of it.

I ran to a place in the edge of the marsh where
were some willow-trees, and an old worm fence,
the latter overgrown with briers and elder-bushes;
and there, to my exceeding surprise, I discovered
the body of Squire Higginson (for he was stone
dead), lying against the fence, which was broken,
his head down, and his heels resting against the
rails, and looking as if, while climbing it, he had
fallen down and broken his neck. His gun was
lying at his side, undischarged, and his dog, whose
yelping had brought me to the spot, was standing
by; but I must add, that, as soon as I approached
him, the animal betrayed as much terror as

[figure description] Page 066.[end figure description]

Turnbuckle's dogs had done, and ran howling away in
the same manner.

Greatly incensed as I had been with Squire Higginson,
I felt some concern to see him lying in this
lamentable condition, his face blackened with blood,
as if he had perished from suffocation; and stooping
down, I endeavoured to take off his neckcloth
and raise his head, in the hope that he might yet
recover. But I reckoned without my host,—I had
forgotten that I was a mere phantom or spirit, possessing
no muscular power whatever, because no
muscles; for, even in walking and running, as I
was now aware, I was impelled by some unknown
power within me, and not at all carried by my legs.
I could not bring my hand into contact either with
his cravat or head, and for a good reason, seeing
there was no substance in me whatever, but all
spirit.

I therefore ceased my endeavours, and began to
moralize, in a mournful mood, upon his condition
and mine. He was dead, and so was I; but there
seemed to be this difference between us, namely,
that I had lost my body, and he his soul,—for after
looking hard about me, I could see nothing of it.
His body, as it lay there in the bushes, was perfectly
useless to him, and to all the world beside;
and my spirit, as was clear enough, was in a similar
predicament. Why might I not, that is to say,
my spirit,—deprived by an unhappy accident of its
natural dwelling,—take possession of a tenement
which there remained no spirit to claim, and thus,

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

uniting interests together, as two feeble factions
unite together in the political world, become a body
possessing life, strength, and usefulness?

As soon as this idea entered my mind (or me,
for I was all mind), I was seized with the envy
that possessed me when I first met the squire shooting
over my marshes. “How much better it would
be,” I thought, “to inhabit his body than my own!
In my own fleshly casing, I should revive only to
poverty and trouble;” (I had forgot all about Captain
Kid's money) “whereas, if once in the body
of Squire Higginson, I should step out into the
world to possess riches, respect, content, and all
that man covets. Oh that I might be Squire Higginson!”
I cried.

The words were scarce out of my mouth, before
I felt myself vanishing, as it were, into the dead
man's nostrils, into which I—that is to say, my
spirit—rushed like a breeze of air; and the very
next moment I found myself kicking the fence to
pieces in a lusty effort to rise to my feet, and feeling
as if I had just tumbled over it.

“The devil take the fence, and that Jersey kill-deer
that keeps it in such bad order!” I cried, as I
rose up, snatching at my gun, and whistling for my
dog Ponto. My dog Ponto! It was even the
truth; I was no more Sheppard Lee, the poor and
discontented,—no longer a disimbodied spirit, wandering
about only to frighten dogs out of their
senses; but John Hazlewood Higginson, Esq., solid
and substantial in purse and flesh, with a rosy face,

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

and a heart as cheerful as the morning, which was
now reddening over the whole east. If I had
wanted any proof of the transformation beyond that
furnished by my own senses and sensations, it would
have been provided by my dog Ponto, who now
came running up, leaping on and about me with
the most extravagant joy.

“God be thanked!” I cried, dancing about as
joyously as the dog; “I am now a respectable
man, with my pockets full of money. Farewell,
then, you poor miserable Sheppard Lee! you ragamuffin!
you poor wretched shote! you half-starved
old sand-field Jersey kill-deer! you vagabond!
you beggar! you Dicky Dout, with the
wrong place in your upper story! you are now a
gentleman and a man of substance, and a happy
dog into the bargain. Ha, ha, ha!” and here I fell
a laughing out of pure joy; and giving my dog
Ponto a buss, as if that were the most natural act
in the world, and a customary way of showing my
satisfaction, I began to stalk towards my old ruined
house, without exactly knowing for what purpose,
but having some vague idea about me, that I would
set old Jim Jumble and his wife Dinah to shouting
and dancing; an amusement I would willingly
have seen the whole world engaged in at that
moment.

p016-078

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