Ghost Letters Read Online Free Page A

continued.
    â€œThe cargo of tea that Ezekiel brought back from India weighed much less than ice, so his ships needed ballast. Most sea captains filled the holds of their clippers with rocks to keep them on an even keel. When they returned to New England, the ballast stones were thrown into the harbor or onto shore. All along the coast of Massachusetts you’ll find rocks from India, China and other countries around the world. Instead of discarding the ballast stones, Ezekiel decided to store them.Once he had enough, he built this house and called it the Yankee Mahal. But Ezekiel never really lived in this house. Soon after it was constructed in 1840, he sailed for India and never came back.”
    â€œWhy did he do that?” asked Gil.
    â€œNobody’s really sure, but the story is he fell in love with a woman who rejected him. Ezekiel went away brokenhearted to a lonely exile in the East. Our ancestor was a colorful character. Everyone’s heard of Paul Revere and his midnight ride,” said Prescott, “but not many people know that Ezekiel Finch delivered an equally important message to the people of Boston.”
    â€œWhat kind of message?” said Gil.
    â€œIt was during the War of 1812. In those days, Carville was still known as Hornswoggle Bay, and a British navy frigate sailed in to blockade the harbor. Ezekiel Finch was only ten years old at the time. His father was the harbormaster, and he wrote a letter to the governor, warning him that the British were coming. Ezekiel didn’t have a horse, but his family owned a mule named Sally. Taking the letter and jumping onto Sally’s back, Ezekiel rode all the way to Boston in less than three hours. The letter he carried is preserved by the Carville Historical Society. They also have one of Sally’s horseshoes on display.”
    â€œWhy isn’t he famous like Paul Revere?” said Gil.
    Prescott shrugged. “I guess it’s just the way history gets recorded. Some things are remembered and others are forgotten. Paul Revere probably wouldn’t be as famous today if HenryWadsworth Longfellow hadn’t written a poem about him. You remember how it goes:
    â€œListen my children and you shall hear,
    Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere …”
    Gil nodded. “We were supposed to read it in school, but it was kind of long and boring.”
    â€œWell, at least you didn’t have to memorize the whole thing,” said Prescott. “When I was in seventh grade, we had to recite it for a school assembly.”
    â€œMaybe you should write a poem about Ezekiel Finch,” said Gil. “That way people will remember him.”
    â€œNot a bad idea,” said Prescott thoughtfully.
    â€œI guess you’d have to find lots of words that rhyme with
Finch
,” said Gil, “and
Sally
.”
    â€œThat’s the easy part,” said Prescott. “Do you want to see a picture of your ancestor?”
    Before Gil could reply, his grandfather got to his feet and headed out of the kitchen. There was a formal parlor downstairs that was almost never used. It was a gloomy, dusty room with heavy curtains on the windows. When Prescott turned on the lights, Gil could see that the furniture was shrouded in dustcovers, and there was a musty smell of old wood and fabric. On the wall opposite the fireplace hung a large oil painting in an ornate frame. It was a picture of a boy on a gray mule, riding through farmland. The boy was dressed in blue breeches, with a loose shirt blowing in the wind. When Gil looked at thepicture more closely, he could see that Ezekiel was holding a letter in one hand.
    â€œSally was used for plowing fields,” said Prescott. “She wasn’t meant to be ridden, certainly not thirty miles to Boston.”
    Gil tried to imagine what it would be like to ride bareback all that way; it made him feel sore just thinking about it. On the other side of the room was a later portrait of