Born: May 1, 1921
Died: April 12, 1936
This is the tale of a poor, unfortunate housemaid, who met her death quite by accident. Prudence was Little Leota’s personal maid. She was neither attractive nor memorable--a person would forget meeting Prudence before he finished saying good-day to her.
Prudence had a rare quality that caused her to blend into her surroundings. This made the task of serving Little Leota even more difficult. Little Leota was not the easiest person to serve, always sending Prudence on wild goose chases. Prudence was doomed to search for lost shoes, misplaced handkerchiefs, and at times, even unidentified noises in the middle of the night.
Such was the case one cold night when Leota called for Prudence. Leota claimed she had heard a noise downstairs and sent Prudence, candle in hand, to investigate. Even though Prudence objected and was visibly frightened, Leota ordered her to investigate. Prudence wandered the halls, the flickering candles her only source of light in the dark house. As she was walking down the long dark hall, one of the doors swung open and slammed against the wall. Poor Prudence was so terrified by this that she collapsed and perished in the hall. She never discovered that it was only Little Leota trying to frighten her. Prudence still haunts the halls, searching for disturbances.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The Tea Party
Died: October 31, 1931
In 1931, the Graceys held a Halloween party for all of the town’s most influential citizens. Madame Boufont, taking charge of the arrangements, came up with the idea of a tea party in the graveyard. She sent each invitee a badge with a clever name, such as "Dustin T. Dust" and "I. Emma Spook". Nobody would know anyone’s true identity until the unmasking at midnight.
Halloween day was rainy, but by sunset the sky had cleared and the stars were out. The Mansion’s servants quickly dried the tables, wiped off the tombstones, and lit the candles. Ordinary decorations wouldn’t do, do Mme. Boufont brought out living ones: a pair of owls (with clipped wings), a few stray cats (lured by saucers of cream), Master Gracey’s dog Hellhound, and Aunt Elma’s raven. Master Gracey set up a special display of his Egyptian mummy. A rather ragtag band of costumed musicians, assembled from local tradesmen, arrived just in time.
Soon the guests began to arrive, wearing their name tags as they had been instructed. "Bea Witch" came as a duchess. "Love U Truly" and "I. Truly Dew" dressed as a king and queen. "I. M. Ready" made a convincing Father Time with his ear trumpet. The grandest entrance was made my "M. T. Tomb", who was made up as a corpse. He arrived in a hearse, which got stuck in the mud. The casket slid out, and "M. T." sat up smiling as though he’d planned it that way. The stuck hearse became the centerpiece of the tea party.
The partygoers enjoyed such activities as a tombstone teeter-totter, a swing in a dead tree, and bicycle races on the hill-the only dry ground. Mme. Boufont kept the household members so busy with their hosting duties that they hardly had a chance to taste the tea, but the guests and the thirsty musicians drank pot after pot, remarking on its unusual flavor.
Suddenly, just before midnight, all of the guests and musicians fell ill. The town’s doctors were among the invitees, and they too collapsed. By the time medical help arrived, everyone at the tea party was dead. Due to their fashionably late arrival, the Gracey household had been spared. The well water that had been used to make the tea proved to be contaminated.
The bodies could only be identified by their name tags since Mme. Boufont had kept no record of who was who. As a result, the deceased were entombed under their pseudonyms. The five musicians didn’t have name tags--their tombs were left unmarked. No charges were filed in this case, since all the judges and lawyers were dead.
(Stories by Ghost Gallery)
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