In the oak room a swing was hung from a beam, and my brother had this room as a nursery. In broad daylight, on a summer afternoon, would come the sound of the swing, then a sound as if someone jumped from it, and the swing would go to and fro violently. Many times there have been sounds of someone running quickly downstairs. A previous owner of the house was an old man who did the oak panelling himself, but died ere it was finished. My brother and family still occupy the house, and have grown so accustomed to “Bill, the carpenter,” as they call him, that the noises do not trouble them at all. Sometimes these noises stop for a while, and then go on again louder than ever. There is absolutely no earthly explanation, but I do know it is perfectly true, and many have heard the noises. Another Reverend’s Story A REVEREND gentleman tells the following story:— In an old house in a cathedral town the ghost of a tall, elderly woman dressed in black recently gave much trouble to the inmates. The ladies living in the house saw the apparition constantly, and got quite accustomed to it, but very few servants would stay in the house. The climax came when the cook was found in a fainting condition and said that the ghost had tried to strangle her, and showed the marks of fingers on her throat. Something had to be done. A clergyman from the cathedral was called in and exorcised the ghost, whereupon the trouble instantly ceased. Investigation showed that a woman, answering to the apparition, had committed suicide in the house about fifty years previously. An interesting point is that the ghost was seen in every part of the house except the room in which the tragedy had taken place. The Girl in White SOME three or four years ago I was present at a Christmas party, when the talk turned on ghosts. A gentleman present remarked that ghost stories were almost always second-hand. He had never, he declared, met anyone who could say that he or she had actually seen a ghost. A lady—a great friend of my own—at once replied, and, as nearly as I can remember it, I will give the story in her own words:— “Well, then,” she said, “you have now met one who has really seen a ghost. My husband here, and others, are well acquainted with the story. I was, at the time, staying with my aunt in an old house, three flats up, in ——— Edinburgh. The beautifully carved mantelpiece, and peculiar markings on the walls, supposed to have been caused by cannon ball, showed that the house had once been occupied by some of the old Scottish nobility.