were we that we should judge what was a suitable house for a ghost to haunt? But it did look so prosaic, and looks count for so much in this world! The flat front of the house was pierced with five sash windows, three on the top story and two on the ground floor below, with the doorway between,—the sort of house that a child first draws.
A SUCCESSFUL SEARCH We did not enter the little garden, nor approach the regulation front door, for both had the appearance of being seldom used, but, wandering around, we came upon a side entrance facing some farm outbuildings. We ventured to knock at the door here, which was opened by the farmer's wife herself, as it proved; the door led directly into the kitchen, where we observed the farmer seated by the fireplace, apparently awaiting his mid-day dinner. We at once apologised for our intrusion, and asked if it were the haunted house that we had read accounts of in the London papers, and, if so, might we be allowed just to take a glance at the haunted room? "This is the haunted house," replied the farmer with emphasis, "and you can see over it with pleasure if you like; the wifie will show you over." So far fortune favoured us. The "wifie" at the time was busily occupied in peeling potatoes "for the men's meal," she explained, "but when I've done I'll be very glad to show you over and tell you anything." Thereupon she politely offered us a chair to rest on whilst she completed her culinary operations. "I must get the potatoes in the pot first," she excused herself, "or they won't be done in time."
