The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1897-12-17
THE LIGHT IN
THE COTTAGE.

"There was light last night in the
the haunted cottage"
My wife's little mother spoke 1t with
shiver and whisper at the breakfast Christ
mas morning. Toinette and looked at
each other as If to ask, lis her old trouble
coming back2' She, catching our glances,
shook her head.
mo, my dears, there's nothing the mat
ter with me, answering as If she had read
our thoughts. "There was a light there, I"
she reiterated. ST heard some one cough.
There were strokes of q hammer and, q
little later, carriage was driven away. I
saw it go.
SO different for the moment from her usual
gentle self, that felt sure nothing allied
her head. We were very watchful of the
dear old lady because she sometimes-not
very often-had mild but temporary de-
luslons. She had never entirely recovered
from the shock caused by the tragic loss
of her husband.
ut was Christmas night year ago,
John, that you saw light there" re-
marked Toinette meditatively.
~ have not forgotten it," said I, "nor
how, when 1 went to look into the matter,
pumped into q man coming down the
front steps. What followed was something
like this: Beg pardon, / said. Being
an officer and seeing light in this empty
house thought tramps might have bro
ken in
"'I'm no tramp, replied the man,
speaking in a heavy bass voice, as if he
had cold.
1t was so odd thing
Odd or not, he broke in, it's my
house, to do with as l like. What's the
time, officer? But never mind Here's
my carriage. Good nightp And he was
driven away without so much as glimpse
of his face
snow, I'm not bit superstitious
mother declared 1t with vigor and posi-
tiveness that permitted no controversy,
even had we, her children, thought or said
anything to the contrary-"but it made
my flesh creepy to think Of any one being
alone In that empty, horrible old shell. F"
"And then you went to bed and cried
over it half the night, asserted Toinette
reproachfully. "Your eyes show it, moth
err"
"Kill out my memory, daughter, and
the tears will STOP" Her lips quivered as
she spoke. "You know can't help 1t"
"Yes, know" and Toinette began to
talk of other matters.
might as well state right here, so that
the story may be the better kept together,
that misfortunes had in my case trans
formed me from bookkeeper into po-
liceman, and had found no way Of turn
fv1< Nha cfati n
which / was assigned was within five
minutes walk of the fiat we called home.
The cottage about which we had been
talking was small, one story structure,
with steps coming directly down to the
sidewalk in front and with q scrimpy,
weed covered backyard, as If it were q
refuse patch from some rich man s garden.
Less than half dozen years before 1t had
been about in the center of q three acre
tract devoted to truck gardening" but
the city had grown out far beyond 1t and
was smothering 1t with great buildings Of
brick and stone. The exterior was kept
In good condition by paint, but its interior
condition was unknown, the owner plain
ly preferring that the property should re-
main tenhntless. This cottage was directly
in the rear of our building, facing par
allel street. An alley separated the two
yards. From our rear windows we could
look down on the premises, so that 1t was
not difficult to notice any unusual happen
ing Among old women and children the
place had the reputation of being haunted,
a distinction that seems naturally to be-
come attached to wornout and unoccupied
places, and this one had not been lived In
for many years. For my wife and her
mother-the tier especia1ly-the cottage
was the remin der of the saddest period In
their lives. one Christmas night, just 1 l
years before, the husband and father,
David Vance, orazed by the ruin brought
upon him by the perfidy of n friend and
reduced to q condition of starvation, went
out of that cottage into the binding fury
Of snowstorm and was not seen or heard
of again. His family had afterward drift
ed around, being sometimes in one city,
sometimes in another, until they had un-
Willingly come back to within stone 8
throw Of the birthplace of their bitterest
recollections
After the family had left the cottage the
story ran thai a subsequent tenant had
murdered his wife there and that it was
hauntod--not oy the ghost Of the slain, but
by that of the slayer, who had been duly