Ghost of the Chattering Bones by Gertrude Chandler Warner Page A

history.”
    James Alden smiled into the rear view mirror. “Photos are a great way to keep a record of the times.”
    “I wonder what they did in the olden days,” Jessie said thoughtfully, “before cameras were invented.”
    “They didn’t have cameras back then?” Benny sounded surprised.
    Violet shook her head. “Not until the 1820s.” Violet knew a lot about photography. It was one of her hobbies.
    “You’re becoming a real expert, Violet,” said Henry.
    “Thanks, Henry.” Violet beamed. “But I still have a lot to learn.”
    Grandfather spotted a small gas station. He pulled up close to the gas pumps. A woman with gray streaks in her dark hair came over to the car.
    “Fill ’er up?” the woman asked with a friendly smile. She was wearing blue overalls with the name DARLENE embroidered across the front.
    Grandfather nodded. “You read my mind.”
    While Darlene filled the tank, the children hopped out of the car. They set to work washing the windows and the headlights.
    “You folks on vacation?” Darlene asked them.
    Jessie nodded. “We’re spending a week in the country.”
    “Oh?”
    “At Eton Place,” Benny added.
    As Darlene replaced the cap on the gas tank, she lowered her voice. “A word of advice,” she said. “Don’t go fishing from the old stone bridge. Some say it’s haunted.” Her eyes twinkled but her voice was serious.
    The children were so surprised by Darlene’s word that they were speechless. Before they had a chance to ask any questions, Grandfather had paid the bill and they were on their way again.
    “Eton Place sounds a little … spooky,” Benny said as they drove along.
    “You don’t believe there’s really a ghost, do you?” Henry asked in his sensible way.
    “Um, no,” Benny said. But he didn’t sound too sure.
    Violet added, “Darlene was just teasing.”
    “I imagine she was talking about the ghost of the Chattering Bones,” put in Mrs. McGregor.
    The children all looked at their housekeeper in surprise. “The ghost of the what?” said Benny, his eyes round. “Did you say—”
    “Oh, look!” Mrs. McGregor broke in, as the car rounded a curve. “There’s the mailbox!”
    Benny craned his neck. “Where?” he asked. He had been thinking about chattering bones. They were a scary thought.
    Mrs. McGregor pointed to the side of the road. Sure enough, up ahead was a mailbox set atop a post. The shiny gold lettering on the side of the mailbox read: ETON PLACE.
    Grandfather turned the station wagon into a long driveway that wound through the trees. They slowed to a stop when they came to a big plum-colored house with a large porch. On one side was an orchard. On the other, a flower garden.
    “Oh, a purple house!” Violet cried with delight as she scooted sideways out of the wide backseat. Purple was Violet’s favorite color. She almost always wore something purple or violet.
    “Yes, the house has always been plum-colored,” said Mrs. McGregor as Henry opened the car door for her. “Thanks to Meg Plum.”
    As Grandfather lifted the suitcases out of the car, Jessie noticed a tall, silver-haired woman in a flowery-blue sundress standing near the orchard. She was talking to a man in a business suit. As if feeling Jessie’s eyes on her, the woman suddenly looked over.
    “Margaret!” The tall woman rushed towards Mrs. McGregor. “How wonderful to see you!”
    “It’s been too long,” said Mrs. McGregor, returning her friend’s warm hug.
    “And this fine-looking group must be the Alden family!” Norah Eton said.
    Mrs. McGregor proudly introduced everyone. “Welcome to Eton Place!” Norah said, a smile spreading across her face. “I can’t wait for you to meet my niece. I know she’ll enjoy your company.”
    “We’re looking forward to meeting Pam,” said Jessie, speaking for them all.
    “Guess what, Mrs. Eton?” Benny put in. He was still thinking about the mystery.
    “What, Benny?”
    “We’re pretty good at tracking down