A Haunted House in Waterford.
For some weeks past a certain house in one of the most respectable parts of the city was believed to be haunted, and haunted it verily was. It appears, however, that a few weeks ago a new-married couple took up their abode in this veritable house. The first night of their residence in it, just as the clock struck twelve, and as they were retiring to bed, the latch of the back door was raised repeatedly, as if some person was trying to effect an entrance. The husband, screwing up his courage “to the sticking point,” demanded to know who was there at that unreasonable hour, but the echo of his voice was the only response. Again and again did the husband repeat his question, only to speak in vain.
Both he and his wife grew pale with fear, and passed a night of the greatest disquietude. When daylight dawned they got up, and then became ashamed of their childish fears of the previous night. Night after night passed on, and still at that dreadful hour did the supernatural agency begin its mysterious operations. At last the terror-stricken occupants sent for the landlord, and took him into their confidence. He laughed at their superstition and temerity, and volunteered to sit with them that night between eleven o’clock and one. He was true to his promise, and arrived about eleven o’clock.
The two men sat and smoked over a bottle of stout until twelve o’clock, when, to the horror of the landlord – and he is far from chicken-hearted – the back door latch began moving. “Come in,” shouted the landlord, as cheerfully as the circumstances of his position enabled him to do, but the strange ghost did not accept the invitation. The latch kept moving, and he kept calling, but it was no use.
At last, arming himself with the poker, he approached the door and opened it, but, lo and behold, there was nothing to be seen! Confusion seized on all three. When everything was quiet the landlord left for home puzzled in the extreme, and with his nervous system not a little shaken.
– Waterford Mail.
Londonderry Sentinel, 30th September 1879.