Retiring to bed one Sunday night to my room situate off a rather long landing in an old farmhouse near here, I slept from about 10:30 p.m. to about 1:30 a.m. I was then awakened by hissing noises—very similar to those made by a flock of geese—coming from the landing. This was followed by footsteps proceeding to a spare room at the end of the landing. The footsteps died away, and immediately there commenced a violent rattling of empty milk pans and other odd things stored in that room. The footsteps would again be heard, and this was followed by severe shaking of my own and other bedroom doors in the house. I sat up in bed and tried to call to the person in the next room, but found I was unable to do so, apparently from shock. These noises continued without a break until 4 a.m. Then the footsteps seemed to go along the landing, down the stairs, across the hall, and through the front door, which seemed to close with a huge bang. When all seemed quiet again I gained courage enough to go downstairs, and found the house in order as at the time of retiring to bed, and, stranger still, the front door was still bolted and barred as usual on the inside. The rest of the household had heard exactly the same sounds as myself. Some who had come to stay in the house for a holiday hurriedly returned to their homes in Birmingham the same morning, thus losing their proposed fortnight's stay. I also changed my residence, and did not sleep in the house again. Moreover, I knew personally a tenant of the same house who heard strange noises there; he actually sat up at nights with a friend to try and find out the cause and went so far as to take up the flooring. The mysterious noises both in my own case and on three other occasions within twelve months could never be explained, and to-day I am unable to offer any solution. THE MISSING PAPERS I can vouch (writes a clergyman from Yorkshire) for the truth of the following story:— A clergyman of the Church of England was asked to preach at some special services in the Midlands. He spent the weekend with the local squire, and when he came to take his departure he said to his host, “Would you mind letting one of your servants take me round the house?” “Certainly, I'll show you round myself.” The clergyman was shown all over the mansion, but was still unsatisfied. “There's still a room in the house that I have not seen, and I want to see it.” The squire protested that he had been all over the house, but the clergyman was obdurate. At length the squire remembered an old disused attic. “But,” said he, “no one has been there for years.” “I want to see that attic.” Accordingly the door of this attic was forced open, and the party made their way in. “Ah, this is the room,” said the vicar, “and somewhere in this room there is a cupboard—there it is. I want it opened.”