SOME years ago, some cousins of mine, who lived in an old house at Reading, frequently saw a little old lady who used to come and sit in one of the bedrooms at night. They were so used to seeing her that they lost their fear. Later, the house was pulled down, and a box containing a skeleton was discovered. They made inquiries and found that, years before they lived there, a murder had been committed. An old uncle of mine, who was a missionary, and who sometimes paid my cousins a visit, always saw the old lady when he slept there. MARKYATE MY husband was a man who would laugh if you talked of ghosts, saying he didn't believe there were such things. However, he had to go away to work five years ago, and he and a mate got lodgings with an old lady whose mother, at the age of ninety, died not long before. The first night his mate had plenty to drink so slept soundly. My husband, however, being in a strange place, couldn't sleep. During the night the clothes were lifted off his feet and strange knockings went around the bed. He lit the candle, but found nothing. In the morning he told his mate, and the next night his mate woke him and said: “Hill, light the candle; this place is haunted!” They couldn't sleep for the tugging at the clothes and the knocking around the bed. They told their experience to a man from the village who was working with them, and he said the old lady was supposed to have left money in the bed. They stayed on for the week, and each night the same thing occurred. On the Saturday morning they stripped the bed and made a thorough search, but found nothing. When my husband returned home he looked like a man who had had a severe illness. He told us the story; now he believes in ghosts. BOSCOMBE IN the wartime I spent a holiday in a Dorset village, and the first night, whilst sleeping in a bedroom in a lonely cottage, I was awakened by the door noiselessly opening, and the figure of a man dressed in white garments passing through the room and talking softly to himself. There was only a woman in the cottage and she was fast asleep. A year after, I read in some old memoirs of two of Nelson's lieutenants who, whilst ashore at Weymouth, met two women and accompanied them home. During supper they quarrelled, and one woman threw a flat-iron at Lieutenant ——— and killed him. His companion was horrified and, urging the women to be silent, he took the body on his horse to a lonely spot in Dorset, and buried it and rejoined his ship. The spot where the lieutenant was buried was the spot on which stands the cottage in which I had this strange experience. CROYDON