“Do you mean to tell me,” I asked the Stationmaster, “that you really believe that a train has a ghost, and that ghostly trains run over actual railways at night?” “If you were a railroad man,” replied my friend, “you’d see the foolishness of asking such a question? Do I believe in ghost trains? You… Read More »Ghost Train
Virgil Hoyt, a photographer’s assistant up at St. Paul, had a whimsical view of the world, and he did not like to be bothered with anything disagreeable. That is the reason that he loathes and detests going to a house of mourning to photograph a corpse. The horribly bad taste of it offends him partly, and… Read More »A Dead Woman’s Picture
Dolly Dittlemore put her harmonica into her pocket and said: “I am going to march in the Fourth of July parade. Don’t get into any trouble, Yankee Doodle.”
Fabian Frogmorton stole Freddy’s frog Fats on the Friday of the town of Flowerpot’s Fabulous Frogs Contest. Freddy was furious. Fabian Frogmorton had cheated Freddy out of the Fabulous Frog Award last year. Fabian had fed Freddy’s frog flies just before the Fast Frog Frolic, the final race in Flowerpot’s Fabulous Frogs Contest. Freddy’s frog had been too full to frolic, so Fabian’s frog had finished first.
“Oh pooh,” said Mrs. Polly Peters to her pet parrot Petey. “Where did I put that pen?”
“Petey’s pens,” said Petey Peters, bobbing his green head up and down inside his cage…
This morning I went up to Lookout Mountain to visit the grave of Buffalo Bill Cody. What a view! Snow capped mountains to the west, the foothills and prairie to the East. I walked through the small museum depicting his life and achievements. He was a real showman, and much of the way we think about the Wild West had its routes in his shows.
Alex alligator arrived at Allison Arthur’s apple farm in April, when the apple trees were covered with blossoms.
“Whatever am I to do with an alligator?” Allison asked…
We were all sitting around enjoying another beautiful day of sunshine and warm weather outside our Rat Lake cabin when Tim was struck with an idea. “Why don’t we go for a boat ride this afternoon on Lake Bitabee?” he asked the general populace – which consisted of his fiancé Arlene, myself (his older sister), two little sisters, and our parents. This idea met with general approval from Arlene and myself, but Mom and the younger crowd elected to stay at the lake and Dad wanted to spend the afternoon fishing.
Whew! That 6 hour flight from Newark to Washington is extremely long and cramped. It’s amazing how you can leave at 7:30 am and still be in Seattle before noon!
I got myself through the baggage claim and rental car with minimum of fuss and headed off toward Tacoma, lunch, and Port Defiance State Park. The day was crystal clear, and Mount Rainier loomed fantastically on the horizon as I drove south. I love a place with snow-capped mountains, and I was already loving Washington!
Brenda was busy baking a batch of blueberry muffins in the kitchen of Butler’s Bakery when the bell rang.
“Be with you in a bit,” Brenda called, brushing her blond braid over her shoulder.
Follow S.E. Schlosser’s trip to Oregon in search of ghost stories, supernatural tales, and of course, Bigfoot! The author takes you day by day through a typical research trip as she discovers the supernatural side of Oregon, in preparation for the writing and publication of the 15th book in the Spooky Series: Spooky Oregon.
Several men were gathered near the bar discussing the tidings that Walter Stedman, a laborer on Albert Kelsey’s ranch, had assaulted and murdered his employer’s daughter.
One evening about eight months ago I met with some college comrades at the lodgings of our friend Louis R. We drank punch and smoked, talked of literature and art, and made jokes like any other company of young men. Suddenly the door flew open, and one who had been my friend since boyhood burst in like a hurricane.
We know its unorthodox, but we really love our lox,
And better still we love to box, and gift-wrap too.
Woodbox and workbox and toolbox and tinderbox
Bobby Fox collects socks, so why don’t you?
The Xenos family lived in a rambling old house called Xanadu. Xavier was a xylographer, which meant that he worked all day engraving words on wood. His wife Xenia made lovely xenogardens which were gardens in which all of the plants – like cactus and sage brush – thrive in dry weather.
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Mighty the black Labrador lived on a small farm. Every day she inspected the vegetable garden, looked for intruders and watched the horse. She took good care of the farm for the Hadleys.
One day, Mighty was walking in the pasture where Dixie, the Hadley’s horse was grazing. To Mighty’s surprise, Dixie refused to go near the stream to get a drink of water. Mighty decided to investigate. She ran down to the bridge.
This Halloween, you may want to check out some of these haunted spots throughout New Jersey.
The package was sitting on the porch when she got home from class, even though she had repeatedly told Aunt Katy not to send it this year.
Mighty the black Labrador watched the Hadley’s mount their horses. All their equipment was packed on their saddles.
“Take good care of the farm, Mighty,” said Mrs. Hadley as they rode away. The Hadleys were going on an overnight camping trip.
Tall Ted Thompson parked his traveling turtle tank on Tenth Street in front of Tonawanda Town Hall. Tall Ted’s traveling Turtle Aquarium was a big attraction in Tonawanda. Timmie Torlish and his twin sister Trish ran to push their noses against the tanks windows to take a look at the turtles as Tall Ted walked up Tenth Street to talk to the mayor.
Sally Slithers moved to South Hall in September.
“Oh dear, there are too many mice here,” she said. So Sally went to the pet store and bought a great big boa constrictor. She named her snake Sammy Slithers. Sammy’s favorite place to sleep was in the bathroom.
At breakfast, Cat sits on the deck of the pool, outside the glass doors to the kitchen. Bang, bang. She hits the door with her paw. This means “Johnny, feed me” in Cat’s special language. I get up from my chair and feed Cat.
Harry Horse loved to watch television. He loved the cartoons and the sitcoms. He watched the movies and listened intently to the talk shows as the sounds drifted through the open window in the kitchen…
I left for my next spooky adventure right from work, hoping to get at least halfway to North Carolina tonight. The weather was cold, but sunny, and the massive George Washington Bridge gleamed in the westering sunlight as I zipped across. I am amazed at the size and beauty of this bridge every time I cross it.
Then I was out of New York, heading across Jersey and through the gorgeous Delaware Water Gap into Pennsylvania. One of the reasons I enjoy road trips like this are the memories of other Spooky trips I have. Traveling through Wilkes-Barre, PA, I remember collecting the story of a coal-miner minstral who returned from the grave to say good-bye to an old friend. Driving past Allentown, I remembered the ghost I actually “met” – or at least heard – while staying at my cousin’s house and visiting her haunted toy room. And of course, passing the battlefields of Gettysburg and Antietam, I remembered the ghost of George Washington who appeared at Little Round Top and the very creepy feeling I had staring at the haunte bridge in Antietam.
It had been one heckuva day. By the time I got home I was practically crawling on my hands and knees, fatigued in mind, body, and spirit. All I wanted was food, a hot bubble bath, and sleep, in that order. I was determined that I would have all three tonight no matter what I had to push off to do it.
Not too long ago my niece lost another tooth. Being an enterprising child who is not afraid to believe in the tooth fairy if it means receiving money, she stuck it under her pillow. Obedient to custom, her father — Tooth-fairy Tim — did his job well, and in the morning she was richer by one dollar.
In the nineteen-thirties and early forties, when my grandmother Mildred was a young woman, she settled in New Jersey with her husband Loyd. They lived in an old green farmhouse surrounded by fields, with few neighbors, and a large white church with a revival-style campground just up the block from their home.
My grandfather had a fairly new silver Dodge Saint Regis back when I was a sophomore in college, which eventually became my car when he got a new one. On the particular late-winter weekend of our story, Grandpa was going away for a visit (or perhaps to a conference) and didn’t require the use of his car until late Sunday afternoon. My Dad, on the other hand, needed the use of car – any car — since the Schlosser family vehicle had conked out on him and was in the garage being fixed. My Grandpa offered him the use of the Dodge, and Dad accepted gladly. So Grandpa dropped off the Dodge at our house on Friday evening, leaving it to the tender mercies of my family while he went away.
One night I had been invited to the house of a friend, who was a great believer in the manifestations from the unseen world, and who had asked for my special edification a well–known trance medium. ‘A pretty as well as heaven-gifted girl, whom you will be sure to like, I know’ he said as he asked me.
Like ghost hunting? You may want to check out some of these haunted spots throughout New York.
