CATCHING A GHOST.

Te Aroha News, Volume I, Issue 31, 5 January 1884, Page 4

CATCHING A GHOST.

About five years ago I had occasion to visit the pretty little village of B , a hamlet situated a few miles on the outskirts ot Manchester. Being somewhat tired, I entered the " Jolly Carter » Inn, and taking my place in the cosy bar parlour, I called for a glass of mine host's sparkling XX October ale, and sat idly listening to the following animated discussion which was beino- carried on by a motley group of village worthies who were gathered around the hospitable-looking tire, which blazed right merrily up the capacious chimney : — "Neaw, chaps," said an old man, who, judging from his appearance and the deierence'paid to him by his companions, was a person of some consideration, " it's a weel-known fact ut the' heawse ut Owd Jack o' Turn's wut murdert in is haunted. Aw shudn't bi so sure o' what aw'm tellin' ye if it wurn't for a rayther singular occurrence ut happened t' eaur Sally in connection wi Jack o' Turn's heawse. It wur th' other neet when, havin' bin t' her grandmother's ut the other eend o' th' village, us hoo're passin' the heawse aw'm speykin abeawt, hoo lookt up t' one of th' bed-rea-wm windows, un "wot d'ye think hoo swears hoo seed? Why, nowt' nayther moor nor less then th' face of Owd Jack o Turn's starin' at her as if he wanted t speyk t' her, but hadn't courage t' address her." '•They never says!" was the naturally surprised ejaculation of several of the company, staring with wide-open eyes of astonishment at the narrator. "It's a fact," was the reply of the old man. "Th' moon wur shinin' breetly at th' time, so ut aw con weel believe eaur Sully ut hoo wurn't mista'en i' wot hoo seed. Hoo coom whoam skrikin' us if th' very dule war at her heels, tellin' us, us weel us hoo cud, wot hood seed." '• Dusn't think yo'r Betty met ha' bin desaved by th' moon— it wur at th'fuil th't neet aw remember, un theaw knows ut it's commonly said ut rayther strange noshuns gefcten in t' folk's yeds ut that time," was the rather sceptical speech of a member of the company, who seemed to be cast in a superior mould to the rest of his companions. The old man glared at the speaker a<3 though he would have enjoyed punching ills head. " Aw'm noan mista'en ut aw, Billy Batter. It aw's very nice for thee, becose theaw's had a chance o' gettin'a bit o' book larnin', t' think theaw knows mooar than owder folks then thisel', but aw'd rayther belie vo eour Betty than twenty Billy Batters could tell mi, neaw then !" " Keep thi hat on, Dicky," was the reply of Billy; "aw're nobbut saying ut wur just possible ut yo'r Betty wur wrung i' wot hoo said hoo seed, that's all." "Chus heaw it is," said the old man, " not aw th' king's bosses nor aw th' king's men ull induce Sally t' pass th' haunted— for that it's haunted aw'm us sartin sure us if aw'd seen it miser — heawse after neetfall, un hoo's not nat'rally a timid lass noather." "Well," said Billy Batter, "aw think it ud not be a bad plan if some on us went some neet to the heawse, un stopped in o' neet, un then wi shud be able t' tell whether it wur raley haunted or not." None of the company, however, were willing to adopt the suggestion of Billy, and so, after some further desultory conversation upon t*he haunted house and its supposed uncanny visitant, the company gradually dispersed until I found myself the sole occupant of the room. The landlord, a jovial-looking man of about forty years of age, shortly afterwards came into the room, and from him I learned that some years before the "haunted" bouse was tenanted by a miserly old fellow, known in the village as Jack o' Turn's. It was thought by everyone that he was possessed of an almost fabulous sum of "brass," and it was the popular belief that the miser spent the time when in county parlance, "dacint folks owt t 1 ha' bin' i' bed," in counting his money. He was shunned by old and young alike, and some even went so far as to aver that he had dealings "wi th' Owd Lad." One morning he was found dead upon the house floor, a terrible gash upon his forehead showing that the wretched man had been most foully murdered. Further search revealed the fact that robbery had been the object of the murder or murders, as all the furniture, drawers, and every available place which could by any possibility be construed into a hiding-place for money was knocked about, and lay scattered about in all directions. No trace of the man or men who had cut short the earthly career of the miser was ever discovered, and to this day remains among the many instances of undiscovered crimes. Thanking the landlord for his courtesy in telling me the history of the (supposed to be) haunted house, I left the inn fully determined, if possible, to visit the house, and, by passing a night in it, see for myself whether the spirit of the murdered man really haunted the scene of his earthly habitation. Procuring a dark lantern ana a box ot matches, I wended my way in the direction of Jack o' Turn's "heawse." Arriving there, I wasn't long before I was cautiously exploring the lower portion of the house. Creeping stealthily upstairs, I came upon a room which seemed to me to be rather more pomfortable than the others, and here I determined to keep my solitary vigil. An old moth-eaten sofa reclined in a corner of the room, and, despite the uninviting aspect of my prospective restingplace, I determined to pass the night upon the sofa. Stretching myself at full length upon it, and placing my overcoat upon me, I prepared to await whatever might befal me. I felt utterly worn out, having walked a considerable distance that day, so, having taking the precaution to leave my lantern lighted, so as to be prepared for all emergencies, I felt myself succumbing to the soft alluring influence of Morpheus. I must have slept some length of time, when I was suddenly awakened by the sound of something falling heavily on the floor beneath the one in which I was. I sat up, my ears anxiously strained to catch a repetition of the noise I had heard. Despite my heroic resolve to solve the mystery of the haunted house, T felt a curious sensation at my heart ; my most conscious feeliner being a wish that I had taken up my quarters at the " Jolly Carter " instead of the room I now occupied. However, in country parlance, "having made mv bed." I must perforce "lie upon it' M in other words, "face out whatever might now happen to me." Soon I heard what were undoubtedly footsteps move cautiously about, and my hair began to show a decided inclination to stand like the quills of the fretful porcupine" upon my head, when the " ghost," or whatever it was, began to ascend the stairs leading to my room. Now or never, I thought, was the time to act, and, leaving

my "couch," I prepared to meet my ghostly visitant. Picking up my lantern, 1 was in the act of advancing to the door, when a sudden gust of wind 'blew out the lifht, leaving me where Moses was supposed to be when the candle " went out." 1 was not to be baulked, despite my rather unfortunate predicament, and so, creeping stealthily to the foot of the stairs, I missed _ my footing, hitting in my sudden descent a solid substance which had all the usual characteristics of a human body, particularly as tho said "body" began to use language which, to say the least of it, was very profane. Instantly I felt myself grappled by the throat, and before I could clearly realise my condition found myself borne to the ground, the "ghost" (evidently stronger than your humble servant) sitting upon my chest and holding me by the throat in a most uncomfortable grip. "G-good God!" I faintly ejaculated; "am 1 to be murdered in cold blood? Help ! help ! help !" " Aw'll help thee, Mestur Ghost !" yelled a voice which I recognised as belonging to Billy Batter, the young man who, it will be remembered, was rather sceptical in the matter of Betty having seen Jack o' Tom's I ghoat, as related by Dicky, her father, in the " Jolly Carter " bar parlour. "For heaven's sake, man!" I gasped, " get off my chest, and then I shall be able to explain the mistake we have evidently fallen into." Billy did so, and picking up his lantern, which, unlike mine, had not got extinguished, he scanned my feature. "By George !"he exclaimed, "if it isn't th' stranger aw seed t'-neet at th' 'Jolly Carter !' But heaw did yo' find yo'r way here, mestur ?" I then told him that, being anxious to discover whether there was really any truth in the existence of the ghost or not, I had taken up my abode there for the night. Billy informed me that his object in being there was precisely of a similar nature. He had seen the reflection cast by my lamp as he was entering the house, and having fully made up his mind that the supposed ghost had paid one of its nocturnal visits, had determined to settle the matter one way or the other. The noise I had heard, and which had arousedmef rom my slumbers, was caused by Billy stumbling ever a block of wood which lay in his way to the kitchen. Billy had wisely provided himself with a bottle of whisky and a number of ham sandwiches, and with these we regaled ourselves until the time when the Jolly Carter Inn being opened for another day's business, we hastened there, and were soon entertaining mine host and hostess and the early customers assembled in the bar parlour with our efforts to lay the ghost. The next day I returned to Manchester, but from that day to this I have never forgotten the agony of the time when I thought I was about to face a real live ghost for the first time. —Mr J. Slater in the " Manchester Weekly Times."