IN the late war I was working with a married friend who had a small son, three years of age. Her husband was in the Navy. We were working in a T.N.T. shell factory in Kent. Her husband had been on leave and had returned to his duty. She was very depressed because she had a feeling that something was going to happen. I cheered her as best I could. One night (we were working nights), I was put to work in a large shell store by myself. I heard the door open, as I thought to admit the night foreman, but as no one came in, I looked round, and, to my horror, I saw my friend's husband in full naval clothes, with no hat on, and his little son in front of him with arms held out. I rushed to the door, thinking something had happened, but I found no one there. Sixteen hours later my friend had news to say her husband had been drowned off the Irish Coast, and, two days later her little son caught his night clothes alight in front of the fire and died in hospital from the shock of the burns. DERBY ONE night in April, 1917, I was in bed asleep when I woke with a start and distinctly heard my fiancé call in a distressed voice: “Frank! oh, Frank!” (my nickname). It was so real, I jumped out of bed and, going to the window, I saw him, sun helmet, kit, and all equipment in the garden beneath my window, as clear as ever I had seen him in reality. I turned to go back to bed and have a good cry, feeling sure something tragic had happened. My sister came from another room and said, “I felt certain I heard Charlie call you. What can it mean?” There was not much sleep for either of us that night, and, not hearing from him for several days, I feared the worst. However, one day at the office, I received a wire asking me to meet him on the London train due in that evening. When I had an opportunity I asked, "What were you doing on the —rd April?” He took out his diary and gave it to me to read, and this was written at the date of my experience:— "Submarine sighted, lifebelts—what luck if we go under without a fight after two and a half years away from home. Frank! oh, Frank, God bless you!” And he admitted what a narrow squeak they had that night in the Mediterranean. TRUE TALES OF HAUNTED HOUSES An Evil Presence DURING the recent September my husband and I went for a motoring tour in Scotland. The weather was wonderful, and I had never felt better in my life. Towards the end of our week we made for a certain hotel in the Highlands, where my husband hoped to have some dancing.