Stave 1: Singer 's Ghost
Singer was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt
whatsoever just about that. The register of his burial was
signed by the spiritual leader , the clerk, the funeral undertaker ,
and the chief sorrower . Hoarder signed it. And
Hoarder 's name was nice upon `Change, for thing he
chose to put his hand to.
Old Singer was as dead as a door-nail.
Mind! I don't mean to say that I cognize , of my
own cognize ledge, what there is particularly dead just about
a door-nail. I strength have been inclined, myself, to
regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of store
in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors
is in the figure of speech ; and my unconsecrated hands
shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You
wish therefore permit me to repeat, definitely , that
Singer was as dead as a door-nail.
Hoarder knew he was dead? Of course he did.
How could it be else wise? Hoarder and he were
partners for I don't cognize how many an years. Hoarder
was his sole fiduciary , his sole administrator, his sole
assign, his sole residuary beneficiary , his sole friend, and
sole sorrower . And even as Hoarder was not so dreadfully
cut up by the sad even as t, but that he was an superior
man of business on the really day of the ceremonial occasion ,
and solemnised it with an unquestionable bargain.
The mention of Singer 's ceremonial occasion brings me back to
the point I started from. There is no doubt that Singer
was dead. This must be clearly understood, or
nothing howling can move of the story I am going
to relate. If we were not utterly confident that
Hamlet's Father died before the play began, there
would-be be nothing much remarkable in his taking a
stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts,
than there would-be be in any else middle-aged
gentleman headlong turning out after dark in a breezy
spot -- say Saint Paul's God's acre for instance --
virtually to surprise his son's weak mind.

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