New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1921-07-17

leases this land from the rich man who owns
it, has phone in its Office down the road,
and the Waterman is always there to take mes
sages. We could have one here but we haven't
cared to-
What about bathroom"
Were going to pipe water from the spring
and put in bathroom The hill is full of
springs, the best water in the world"
1t is. I had drink from the tin cup that's
chained at the main spring, farther along the
path, and if all water as clear and spar
king as that, one could almost excuse William
II. Anderson.
Marketing" Mrs. Voorhees, went on, 'is
easy, the 207th Street shops are such short
walk away, and the fruit and vegetables are
SO fresh there. And when we get back we
have these woods, and the lights on the water,
and the heavenly quiet"
Warm Sundays are the only time when the
quiet is disturbed. Then the burgeoisie finds
its way hither from the teeming city, and
bursting through the gate marked Private
trails with its numerous offspring along the
path to litter the ground under the big tree
with pop bottles and banana skins and wiener
wurst ends and picture supplements and burst
balloons. Then is the quiet rent by the nasal
conversation of NAMES and Freddies, and
there is no solitude in the primeval wood be-
cause they are reclining everywhere with their
arms around each others waists. i&h ~
About the incest housebcaC ii that colony
is the Roanoke. Mrs. May Waldis is its
mistress, and she belongs to the water, for
she holds any number of medals she's won
trician, built the boat Inside it's like COM
modious four-room fiat, with hot and cold
water, bath room, electric lights from their
own battery, piano, grannophone, all the
luxurious of home Copper screening incloses
the rooted verandas, and Chesapeake, the
curly brown dog, guards the place. They had
a dance on the boat every week last winter
and were as comfortable and gay, Mrs.
Waldis says, as if they'd been living at the
Waldorf-Astoria, and they were much more
free and they put money in the bank!
| left the Roanoke by the narrow curving
gangway that connects it with the shore and
ranlbled along the path, stopping to inspect
one or two artists shacks, and presently /
to the Big Tree with its protecting
fence, and then to the haunted house.
1t didn't look haunted Carpenters were at
work on it. The weather-beaten clapboards
were being replaced by new lumber. Out of
the back door looked a womans rosy face.
you don't look like the ghost was told
I should find here said. She stared. and
then laughed.
II did hear there used to be ghost in this
house." she answered. But 1 guess it didn't
like our improvements. I'm Mrs. Carl
Freitchie, and my husband and I are fixing
up the place to live in. See the large win
dows we're putting in and the partitions being
knocked out to make nice dining room. We
only lease it, for they won't SELL but we cont
think we'll be disturbed and we'll get, in the
pleasure of living here and the difference
between apartment-house rents and this
everything spend on the alterations MANY
times over.
w ere going to have garden, though the
ground is so full Of oyster-shells, left. it's
said, by the Indians who held their feasts and
powwows here, that it's not always easy to
plant things If that ghost comes around
here" Mrs. Frictchie called after ME as I
started away, I'm let you know But I think
it's left for good"
Near by man was working on the frame
OF household that he is building in odd
hours
"Ycu ought tove come around in pop
Seeley's time" he said to me- s'I've heard
that Pop and the ghost were on real good
terms. Pop was a boatman and a great
character, and he had charge Of things in
these parts before that motor boat connpany
came. I'm told it was Pop who rowed Boss
Tweed, the Tammany ringster out to the ship
by which he escaped to Spain when he was
sentenced to imprisonment for embezzlemens
IN 1875. Pop lived in that old house alone.
for he couldn't get along with his family
Maybe he had the ghost for company INT
Pop IS dead now, and everything is changed
And that was ali could find out gave up
the ghost and mounted the trail to a point
from which / could watch evening descend
over the colony. Dinner-time was coming; on
the little yachts and power-boats men and
women brought out folding tables and spread
them on the tiny decks. Inviting odors rose
from the cooks galleys. Brighr-colored
canoes came skimming home, with sun-burnedl
boys and girls in bathing suits at the paddles.
No, the Inlet was no place for ghost. It
was altogether too happy.