I preferred Casper, but in a pinch, I would read about Spooky the Tuff Little Ghost, a ghost boy with a Brooklyn accent, freckles, and a derby (or, as he pronounced it, “doiby”). (Not to be confused with Charlton's far inferior Timmy the Timid Ghost).
But while Casper was a 1960s nonconformist with a gay-coded softness and sensitivity, the hawkish Spooky had no aversion to booing.
In “Once upon a Scaresday," Spooky explains how he took up booing in the first place. As a child, he was a coward and a sissy, always running away from danger. One day he was walking in the hills beyond Spooktown with some friends, when cannibalistic monsters called Ghostcatchers attacked. Spooky managed to run away, but his best friend Googy was captured and dragged off to be cooked and eaten. Distraught with guilt and mourning his loss, Spooky asked his grandfather for advice, and the elderly ghost taught him how to defend himself by booing. He proved to have a great gift for this ghostly martial art, and soon he was able to seek out the monsters and rescue his friend just as the cooking-fire was being lit.
I knew it had something to do with the girls who jumped their ropes and played their singsong games in the shadow of the school. At recess, we boys were herded far away to fields to play baseball and dodge ball, and if ever once we tried to play jump rope, or merely sit on the steps nearby to avoid the midday sun, a teacher would scream wildly at us to stay put. What danger lurked there, against the cool bricks? What threat did girls pose that could force Tommy Kirk to forsake his buddies at Midvale College, or Alec to forsake the wonders of the Earth’s Core, or Spooky to forsake his booing?