Litchfield enquirer., 1860-03-29

o"'s o"u ""eAPeStS" hi6ue oA oe"ho, oA lot
 tuous passages, of long, dark, slippery galle
 ries, and especially full of lingering echoes
 always dying out, and never dead Nine
 tenths of the mysterious noises came, c
 course, from these same echoes, but wh
 made the other tenth, and who set the nois
 going, was problem not so easily solved
 Who emptied sacks of potatoes every nigh
 down the wide uncarpeted oak-stair in tn
 aforesaid music-hall, was quite an open ques
 tion; for everybody agreed, thoug gh ther
 were no potatoes to be found there. that tha
 was the operation which the disturbanc,
 most resembled. Who went about, ant seemed to listen-with list slippers on-a
 the chamber doors? Who rang the drawing room bells when nothing was wanted, ant everybody had gone to bed? My answer, o, account of the philosophic character of my nature. was always Rats The house SC swarmed with them, that it might have bee, called Rats Castle. The arras in such o the chambers as were not in constant ust was rat-eaten as well as motll-eaten. Tn, wainscots were riddled by rats; and they were only kept away from the provisions o1 the household by patent safe, that was the one modern contrivance in Burlhy Hall Nevertheless. the old place was the very home of Christmas hospitality, and had fol me, who did not care for rats, only one source of annoyance: dared not indulge in two o my usual customs--getting up early in the morning. and sleep-walking at night, for fear of being shot by Captain Seton--the eldest son of Sir Arthur-who, enraged by the state of terror in which the female portion ol the domestics were plunged, perambulated the house at all hours with a revolver where with he had pledged himself to put an end to all disturbers of the household peace His sisters being Setons, were, of course, afraid of nothing; but confess that, for my part, did not like that six barrellcd implement of the young drasoon at aI The nightly noises, however. were no whit decreased by this ama- teur watchman; and one December night, when grim north-easter was trying doors and windows from without, and the rats were at work as usual with their potato sacks and list-slippers within, he added con siderabIy to the general tumuit by ringing a huge hand beII--which he had had placed in his bedroom in Case of such an emergency-and all the inmates of the man. sion fockcd to the summons as bees are gathered by the hivcsmau We found the captain in his dressing gown, in the centre of the western gallery, standing by an ugly mark in the pannclIing, which he had made with the muzz!e of his pistol.
 "Hcre he is," cried he: "the fellow went through here. I'll take my oath! I heard him listening at my door, and was out in 8 minut', taking snapshot at him, but the thing missed fire"
 "Hcard whom? heard whom?" inquired Sir Arthur.
 Il don't know; how should T." replied the young man. Perhaps a ghost; or if not, somebody who was never SO near being Il ghost, I'll warrant him, as he was five min. utes back I'll have this panrel broken in. No, father, we'll not leave it till tomorrow, if you please; that's how these things z ) on-- let's do it at once. There's a pickaxe in the go and fetch it, Thomas"
 So the pickaxe was brought, and--Sir Arthur willingly assenting-we broke up the black oak parneling into hundred splint- CTS, and then through thick stone wall, without hinge or entrance, as it seemed, of any kind in it, into chamber, of the exist ence of which no person in the house had ever known. A modern chamber--a small sitting-room, purely furnished with chairs and table of date of construction later at least by two hundred years than anything in the house, except the patent safe; but there were no windows to the room, nor any means of ingress that could be discovered, save that very rough one of our own. l do not think that either ghost or burglar could have affected us all more strangely than the sight of that untenantcd and unknown modern room. It is still to be seen in the west gal Iery of Burlby Hall. the sole approach to it
 for the Setons will have t--yet lying open between the splintercd blanks and broken stone-work. as when it was first found. The mystery concerning it and it's occupants--ii any--is still unsolved, and the rats make just as much noise about the grand old place as ever.
 My third remarkable adventure occurred to me in broad daylight, when it is especial ly crcditable to situation to be start ling" as mine undoubtedly was. I was in Chester, residing with my family, consisting of my wife aud grownup son and daugh- ter. in temporary lodgings, three stories high, but otherwise very convenient. It was ten o'clock in the morning, hut, am ashamed to say, we were still at breakfast, for we were away from home on pleasure, and had fallen into all sorts of idle habits. Our con- versation happened to be upon an inciyity my wife had met with in the town on the preceding day. Some coal-heavers were un- carting coal upon the pavement, and the roadway being very wet. she had asked them to desist from their occupation for moment, so that she might pass. They did so, but not without one of them observing: "And how do you think we should get our work done, missis, if We were to wait for every fool as goes by?" We were expressing our hope that this gentleman's remark was not an ex- republication of Chester manners, when the third window of our room-that furthes, from the breakfast table-was violently thrown open, and the head and unclothed shoulders of man thrust themselves in wards. My son and I were so overcome with astonishment. and the ladies with ter TOT, that it must have been nearly ful minute before I stopped down for the poker during the whole of which interval he made the most hideous grimaces it is possible tt conceive. Independently of these. his nat ural ugliness was excessive. he being perfect
 y bald, and of bright scarlet color-such { complexion as II had never before seen on any
 man. As l ran at him. poker in hand, h' slammed down the window. and before