Connecticut western news., 1895-11-21
YE BOWERIE GHOST.

More than two centuries agoBe, when old Petrus Stuyvesant and his silver banded wooden leg ruled the destinies of New Amsterdam, there was well known place of refreshment in that CO., lonial town known by the worthy burgh- CTS as the Wursthaus. It stood upon the east side of the Old Post or Bowerie road, not far from the present point of junction with Division street.
 The then suburban location of the Wursthaus made it and it's jovial host Hans von Schneist-well known and patronized by the townsmen and their families.
 But change came OCT the smiling features and jocund laugh of the host of the Wursthaus when his only son was proclaimed an outlaw. Some boyish in discretion of speech had been magnified by the hearers, and coming to the ears of the suspicious old director general had resulted in the decree. Young Hans had received timely warning, however, and was supposed to have reached the Swedish colony in safety.
 Several months passed away, and one evening young Jacob Twilier related the following weird adventure to the won- dering crowd gathered around the cen tral table in the Wursthaus garden:
 ''Iwas eel spearing in the Freshwater pond last evening, and by the time the moon was overhead had filled my creel started to walk home. had but pass ed the Wursthaus when just ahead f me I spied tall figure wrapped in a long gray cloak. Thinking that no one except the watch could be abroad at that hour of the night, except with some evil purpose in view, I suited my pace to his, meaning to let him precede me toward the city wall. But scarce had we progressed in this manner for a few hundred yards or SO when the figure turned, and holding its arms aloft made menacing gestures as if forbidding me to approach.
 "Overburdened with my fishing traps I felt powerless, and so knelt on the ground so as to more easily remove the strap of the creel from off my shoulders. But as kneeled the ghost-for such it surely was-had vanished from sight, and though I hurted we'll about could find no trace except mayhap smoke, smelling strongly of sulphur, which l breathed in my nostrils as came near to that part of the ground from which he had vanished.
 Nothing could shake the valiant Ja- cob's circumstantial details of the en- counter, and though the town cynic sneered, the group gathered closer to- hn toh made haste home in good season.
 Within week Roelof Jans, the pop ular butt and scapegrace, added still more to the mysterious. tale of his pred ecessor. While agreeing with Jacob in the general appearance of the gray cloaked figure, he furnished additional details by which it would seem that a long barbed tail was a feature in the phantom and that it walked amid belching clouds of smoke.
 And then came the climax. Adam Roelandsen stated to the captain of the watch that he had encountered the gray cloaked phantom that it came out from the Wursthaus, but hastily turned and re-entered the door ere he could summon up courage to advance or retreat. Here was pretty condition of affairs The habitues of old Hans Won Schneist's s place qnaked in their very shoes at the bare supposition that they had been drinking the brewings of one who was seemingly in league with the evil one. And so it came to pass that the stout old captain of the watch, at the head of his little squad, came to investigate the Wursthaus. For some reason old Hans | did not come to the door, and when the | captain of the watch entered the big taproom he found mine host tightening the hoops of an enormous butt that stood | in the darkest corner. The crowd of | sightseers, at first fearful of forked tongues of flame and other chronicled attributes of the evil one, were timorous of entering the house. But gathering courage from the assembled military, and particularly impressed by the gal lant bearing of the commandant, they | gradually inched forward, until very soon almost every available space was | occupied.
 "Good morning, Herr Von Schneist P spoke the captain.
 | "Good morning to you, herr cap tain, and to you, soldiers and fellow citizensp' answered the sturdy old tav. ern keeper "What means this array Am I accused of treason, or are you merely come to test the malt in my | brewingf"
 ''It is neither of false brewing nor ot treason you are accused, Herr Won Schneist, nor yet of anything coming within the civil or military law. Some there be who say that you are in league with the evil one. Step forward, Adam Roelandsen. and tell your tale again, SC that this worthy man will know our business 1"
 Then came shambling forward 4he pedagogue, who, with many pauses C apologetic utterances, spoke as follows
 "You have all heard, and some few have seen, the gray cloaked figure that walks the Bowerie road at night time. Some there are who say it hath tai
 like unto tho evil one, and divers others aver that it is surrounded by clouds o1 rolling birthstone smoke. spent las evening with John Verlocht up at hi,
 {istmili the other side of Corlears Hook, teaching and explaining to him the new method of multiplication. We nad scarce half a score mugs of ale ano my head was clear as bell when saw a gray cloaked feure hastily enter the door of the Wursthaus.
 "You will agree, Herr von Schneist
 that it is my bounden duty to search
 your premises?" quoth the captain.
 "Assuredly, herr captain,' he re
 piled, "bnt before you begin I vii | Ierye you and your men with some O