Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1903-08-29 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

THE HAUNTED COTTAGE.  It is thirty years .go this Easter since the strange events happened which I am about to tell. I was staying for a few weeks with Jack Phillips, a friend of mine. %via was a farmer, at a little village in North Yorkshire. It was a oharmiug spot in the picturesque valley of the Swale, a few miles from Richmond. I am a native of one of the prettiest of oue southern teem ties, but must admit that the scenery round that grand old Yorkshire town is the finest I have ever seen. Kerby Weldon, as the village is called, was at that time very thiuly populated; there could not have been more than forty houses in the whole plaoe, including the parsonage, the solloolmaster's quarters, and two public-houses. "The Swan" and "The Crown." [low the keepers of the latter establishments contrived to exist is more than I oan tell, far I am sure the beer deinking population did not exceed fifty souls, and the road ihe village was on seemed to lead to nowhere in particular, so it was seldom a stranger pas.sed along it. But still, by dealing in pigs. poultry, etc., they managed to keep the shutters down, and supply a thirsty oustomer with a pint of good Yorkshire ale, or a glass of decent whiskey. The landlord of "The Swan " was a real typical old Yorkshireman, with a broad, almost unintelligible dialect, and a heart as warm as his own barparleur fireside on a odd evening. Jack Phillips and I had become friends in London, where he aad been a clerk in a merchant's office. The property had been willed to him by an oie uncle on condition that he threw up his London appointment which, so the "will said, would send him to the devil, and become a farmer himself. Jack didn't like the idea much, but the estate was freehold, and valued at between fire and six thousand pounds, so it was worth making a sacrifice for. Aoccodingly he gave up his clerkship, and after employing a man who thoroughly understood farming to assist him, went to live on the Yorkshire property. As might , be supposed, after the noise and bustle of oily life, he foued the country somewhat dull, and being somewhere between twenty and thirty, and unmarried, was glad to have me with him fox a bit to talk over old times, and I was equally glad to see his dear old faoe again, for we had been great alums. The farm stood on a hill some die Lance back from the road, and commanded a fine view of the surrounding country. About half a mile away, standing by Aself in a valley, I had noticed a cottage. It had the appearance of having °ow been a, comfortable little dwellirig, but now it was in a moat neglected condition. The front garden was choked up with brambles and all kinds of rank herbage, while its w-alls, and even its roof, were covered with a quantity of creeping, untrimmed ivy. I could see it was a very ancient building. end having a kindly feeling for old houses in general, it interested me deeply, so I made up my mind to learn its history. It was during an early morning ramble by myself that I had first seen the cottage. So at breakfast I asked Jack who owned it, and why it was allowed to fall to decay? Oh, he said, you mean "Ivy Cottage." It is my property, but no one will live there because it is said to be haiunted. Several families had it during any late uncle's time, but none of them stepped long. What frightened them away I don't know, but I believe there was a murder committed in one or the rooms on the night of holy ISaturday, near*); a hundred years ago. And by Jove, he exclaimed, as Easter is ro near, I begin to feel interested myself. The landlord of "The Swan" knows the story; so, if you like, we'll get him to tell it us to-night, it will pasa away an hour or 80. Of course I was agreeable, so that evening we took possession of the barparlour of "The Swan," and invited mine heat to join us in a drink and a chat, which he dici. When asked to tell the story et