A brief summary of Twain’s “Ghost Story”

A brief summary of Twain’s “Ghost Story”


I moved to an old house in the center of Broadway. The upper floors of the house where I rented an apartment have long been empty.

It was the realm of dust and cobwebs, solitude and silence.

I was confused by the silence and neglect of the house, as if I disturbed the peace of the dead. For the first time in my life I felt a superstitious fear, and when a sticky web tangled my face, it seemed to me that there was a ghost in front of me.

I reached my apartment, locked the door tightly, lit the fire in the fireplace and finally felt safe. I indulged in memories and listened to the howl of the wind outside the window until I began to fall asleep. Suddenly my blanket crept down, like someone was pulling it off from me. Barely breathing with horror, I tried to fight an unknown robber, but he was stronger than me. I groaned, and someone in the dark repeated my groan. Then I heard heavy footsteps resembling the tramping of an elephant. Someone came out through the locked door, and silence reigned.

Calm down, I told myself that it was just a nightmare, checked the locks on the door, sat down with the pipe at the cain and suddenly saw a huge trail on the ashes. I was not imagined, a giant was in my room! Paralyzed by horror, I again went to bed. A few minutes passed in silence and darkness, then screams, groans, sighs, muffled conversations were heard near the bed, from the corridor there was a roar and a ring of rusty chains, and blood was dripping from the ceiling.

My housing was invaded, my loneliness was violated.

I saw ghostly faces, and a cold hand touched my face. Hardly alive with fear, I lit a light and moved to the fireplace. Then I heard an elephant’s footstep again. In front of me appeared a huge cloud. She began to change outlines, thicken, until it turned into a powerful naked handsome man. I recognized him as a Cardiff giant and stopped being afraid – everyone knows that giants are extraordinarily kind.

The giant tried to sit on a chair, then onto the bed and smashed the furniture into chips. I was indignant and chastised my guest for spoiling furniture and appearing indecently. The giant made an embarrassed apology, wrapped himself in a blanket, slapped the wash basin on his head and settled himself on the floor.

After chatting with the guest for half an hour, I noted his tired look. The Giant shared his grief with me. He is the ghost of Cardiffskoro giant, and will find peace only



when his marble body is given to the earth. The ghost decided to scare people to get them to bury the body that is in the museum opposite my house. However, at night, nobody is in the museum, and the giant decided to frighten the tenants of the nearest house, enlisting the support of the most terrible ghosts. For many years the giant with his terrible company wandered around the empty house, reached exhaustion and finally met a living person.

The giant begged me to give him “even a ghostly hope,” but I could only spare the petrified eccentric. All this time he “loitered near the plaster copy,” while the original Cardiff giant was in Albany.

I never read on anyone’s face such a frank desire to fall through the earth with shame and humiliation.

He admitted that he was in an exceptionally stupid position, and asked not to tell anyone about such an annoying slip. Then the giant left my home. I was sorry that he left, but even more I felt sorry for my blanket and pelvis, which the giant took with me.



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A brief summary of Twain’s “Ghost Story”