Liesman’s mother, Mrs. Bernard Liesman, and a friend, Harry Opperman, were badly shocked, but will recover. Liesman was sitting at a window next to a telephone. The bolt followed the telephone wire. The tree outside the window was almost exactly reproduced on Liesman’s body. The tragedy occurred during four brilliant flashes in swift succession, putting out all the lights in the cottage. Medical men and photographers were puzzled by the strange features wrought on the dead man. Sounds Like a Fish Story. A flock of geese were swimming in White River, near Augusta, Ark., and a splash attracted the attention of several men and boys who were near by. A large blue channel catfish came up and grabbed a goose, taking the fowl under with him. People watched for some time, but the goose never came up. This may sound like a fish story, but nevertheless it is true. Ghostly Figure That is an Awful Shrieker. A ghost, or some other creature with a voice like an armload of siren whistles, has frightened the residents of Somerville, N. J., to the point where it is no longer a joke, and they want to get to sleep. The disorder, frightful beyond words, ghastly, ghostly, and hair elevating, has been going on for a week, and the whole town is determined that something is to be done about it. Thomas Hagen, night roundhouse watchman, was the first one to hear the shrieks. He was going round and round the roundhouse when the most frightful bellow imaginable rent the air. Mr. Hagen, who comes of a warm-blooded race, was so startled that his blood ran cold. It could barely run, even. Right across the railroad tracks from the roundhouse is the cemetery, and Mr. Hagen, after recalling this, took a little jaunt up the road that restored his circulation to normal. He notified the police force, who were sitting up late, reading, and he became indignant when the department took a cigar out of its mouth and laughed at him. Every night since then the terrible noise has been repeated, and persons who have passed the roundhouse have seen a strange figure flitting about among the bushes and trees which border the railroad tracks at that point. Some of them even describe the flitter, which is going some, considering the speed with which they invariably leave the neighborhood. For the last two nights every one in the village has been shuddering in unison, and the vibration can be felt as far as Philadelphia. Every now and then the shriek ceases and is replaced by a wail--and the wail is a whale of a wail. It is a relief when the shriek starts again.