Read Online The Golden Leg by Dale Jarvis - Free Book Online

the ghostly figure on the bridge was the spirit of
     a local woman who had died duringchildbirth. Every year after
     her untimely parting, she would appear on the anniversary of her death somewhere
     in the community. She would be seen weeping and wailing, bemoaning her own
     demise and her separation from the child she had lost.

O
nce, long ago, in a time when water was
     not quite as wet as it is today, there lived a fisherman and his wife. They were
     not a wealthy couple, but in their hearts they were good people, and they were
     very hard workers, which is what mattered in those days.
    In the fall of the year when the fishing was done, the fisherman and his wife
     got in their small boat and sailed across the bay. There, on the far side of the
     bay, the wife picked berries while the man went out into the woods to cut timber
     for making a new home. He cut the logs, trimmed them, hauled them back to the
     shore, and together he and his wife built a tiny house.
    One evening when the house was finished and a fire was burning merrily in the
     stove, the man decided he would go visiting the neighbours who lived just down
     the shore. He put on his cap, kissed his wife goodbye, and headed off into the
     night.
    The woman sat down to do some sewing. She made herself comfortable in the old
     rocking chair by the woodstoveand began to work. She rocked and
     she sewed, and she sewed and she rocked.
    As she sewed, the door to the tiny house swung open and a stranger walked in.
     He was a tall man, so tall that he had to duck his head to get in through the
     door. He was dressed in a black suit with a black tie knotted neatly around his
     neck, and he carried an old black hat in his hands.
    The woman was startled, like you would be if a stranger walked into your house,
     but she put down her sewing and remembered her manners.
    “Well hello,” she said, and she offered him a cup of tea, which was the only
     proper thing to do.
    The stranger said absolutely nothing. He looked about the room, then turned his
     body around and stepped back out the door, still holding his hat in his hands.
     He closed the door behind him, and that was the end of that visit.
    When her husband returned home, the wife told him about the man dressed all in
     black
    “It seems as if he left as soon as he saw I was alone,” she said.
    The next night, when the fire was burning merrily in the stove, the husband
     said he was off to visit the neighbours once more. He put on his cap, kissed his
     wife goodbye, and headed off into the night.
    The woman sat down to do some sewing. She made herself comfortable in the old
     rocking chair by the woodstove and began to work. She rocked and she sewed, and
     she sewed and she rocked.
    And as she sewed, the door to the tiny house swung open and the
     stranger walked in, ducking his head to get in through the door. He was wearing
     the same black suit with a black tie knotted neatly around his neck, and he
     carried his old black hat in his hands.

    This time the woman was not quite as startled as she had been
     the night before. She put down her sewing and spoke to the stranger.
    “Hello,” she said, and again she asked him if he would like a cup of
     tea.
    The stranger said nothing. He looked about the room. Then he turned his body
     around and stepped back out the door, still holding his hat in his hands. He
     closed the door behind him, and that was the end of that visit.
    When her husband returned home, the wife told him about the man dressed all in
     black.
    “He left as soon as he saw I was alone,” she said, “and tomorrow night you
     better be here, because if he comes again, you should stop him and see what he
     wants.”
    The next night, the husband did not go visiting the neighbours. He sat on the
     daybed by the stove and waited while his wife made herself comfortable in the
     old rocking chair and began to sew. She rocked and she sewed, and she sewed and
     she rocked.
    As she sewed, the door to the