Unexplained Experiences

[Headless2]

Australian ghost stories from Trove Newspapers.

SYDNEY'S HAUNTED HOUSE

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW : Sun 11 Aug 1901

I do not know, ‘of my own knowledge’, as the lawyers say, that Sydney has many haunted houses, or what are regarded as haunted houses, although I have heard of a number. However, I am out today to write of one house that some people say is haunted, and that I know something about, having lived in it for a year or so.

Of course the whole question as to whether I believe in ghosts is at once involved in this. I must plead that I endeavour to keep an open mind on the subject. I cannot say either that I believe or disbelieve in them, but certainly I have had a few strange experiences that, had they fallen to others, would perhaps have entirely convinced them of the existence of these much discussed (alleged) visitants. Some of the strange experiences I have had occurred in the house just alluded to, and they may prove interesting.

The house in question is one of two storeys, and after a time my family occupied only the lower portion for the reason that those who slept upstairs when first we went into the house eventually declined to continue doing so. One of these was the maid, who declared that her slumbers were disturbed. She would wake up and see a person leaning over her bed. She described the figure, which appeared just like an ordinary living being, though there was no resemblance between it and anyone residing in the house or in the neighbourhood, for that matter.

Another of those who asked to be excused from sleeping upstairs was a child of 12. This child claimed to have been visited in the same way as the maid, and described the visitant. The descriptions tallied exactly. Of course we all pooh-poohed the stories, said they were dreaming, and the usual things that are said under such circumstances. But they adhered to their stories, and both maid and child were evidently much impressed.

It was months after that, that we heard that several persons had died in the house, one of whom exactly answered the description given by those who declared they had seen the nocturnal visitor. It was suggested that the maid had heard gossip in the neighbourhood, and had imagined the rest, but this she denied. More over, neither I nor my wife had heard any story in relation to this apparition, although there was supposed to be 'something strange' about the house. The customary laughing away of fears took place whenever anything in this connection was mentioned, but there was no shaking the testimony of the principal witnesses.

My own personal experiences in that house did not come until some time after. To say they did not startle me would be saying what is not true, nevertheless we continued to live in the house, and no one was seriously troubled by fear. One of the peculiar things about the house was that we could hear noises on the stairs as though someone were walking up and down. We explained one to the other that 'of course' the noises were created by quite natural means, and they may have been, but there was no direct evidence on the point. We speculated a good deal, but could never get an entirely satisfactory theory.

However, we were not much disturbed by these noises, nor by one or two other strange sensations experienced. I was personally troubled by an extraordinary feeling of chill that attacked me on one side when in bed. The side of the bed on which I slept was along the wall, from which hung a bell-rope. I at first thought the proximity of the wall accounted for this chill, but the wall was not damp, and no amount of bedclothes or rugs placed between my body and the wall checked this cold feeling. It was as though some chilled body lay next to mine — my left side — and the sensation was distinctly unpleasant. I endured this many times, and could never account for it to my satisfaction, though I affected to do so.

I was lying on this bed one night, perhaps it would be about one in the morning when I was awakened by someone feeling my feet. The room was in darkness; my wife was asleep by my side. I lay perfectly still, listening. Again I felt my toes handled, not roughly, but almost playfully. I was scared, very scared for the moment, there was something uncanny about the touch. But I soon collected myself, and concluding that someone was wandering about the house, proceeded to investigate. I woke my wife, lit the gas, and went all over the house. The doors were locked, just as they were when we went to bed, and everyone in the house was sound asleep. This was indeed puzzling.

After discussing the affair for some time we went to bed again, leaving the gas burning. Naturally I kept my eyes fixed on the foot of the bed. The doorway was there, and when the door was open it was up against the bedstead. It was open then. The bell-pull, a long cord or rope which I have mentioned as hanging down the side of the wall, was this night thrown over the door. I presume someone of the family had placed it there; anyhow, it was in that position when I was aroused. When hanging in its normal position down the wall, it was right against my left hand.

A few minutes passed, and I was still watching the foot of the bed and the door, when my feet were once more handled. I sat up, but could see nothing unusual. But while gazing in astonishment at the bed railing where my toes reached I distinctly noticed the bell-rope over the door jerked several times as though someone were pulling it from the other side. My wife stated that she also saw this. I at once got out of bed, and made another tour of the house, with the same result as before. There was no more sleep until day light came.

Next day the bed was moved to another part of the room, and no further experiences of the kind described fell to our lot. Speaking for myself, I did not want any. Some time after we heard in quite an ordinary way that one of the persons who had died in that house had slept exactly where I did. Whether there is any connection between this fact and the others I have mentioned I do not venture to say, but certainly the whole affair seemed, and still seems very strange.

Other experiences I had in the same house were sharp loud rapping with the front door knocker in the dead of night (about 1 a.m.), with no sound of anyone coming or going, and no one to be seen when the door was opened, and the bouncing of a ball in the drawing room. The latter was rather curious. Most people, know the sound of a hollow india-rubber ball when bounced, and they will, I think, agree with me that it is a sound easily recognised. One night the younger children had been playing with an india-rubber ball in the drawing room, and the ball was left there after they went to bed.

Deep in the night I was lying awake, when I heard this ball being bounced in the drawing room. It was just as though someone were bouncing the ball on the carpet. Readers may suggest that there was a cat there, but a cat cannot bounce and keep on bouncing a ball. Investigation revealed nothing, save that the ball was on the floor, and we believed it was on a table when we went to bed. The room was locked up, both doors and windows when the family retired. And there was no cat there. I have no explanation to offer as to these happenings. I merely relate them as they did happen. I do not assert that the house is or was haunted, but merely that the whole thing is inexplainable to me.

More stories to come….

[KANACKI]

Hello Headless

Cool story. I winder if this house still exists today?

Kanacki

[Headless2]

Hi KANACKI

Pity there’s no leads to research these stories further.

[Headless2]

A HAUNTED COTTAGE

In the year 1891 I arrived in Melbourne. Rents were high and cottages scarce. After walking about for days looking for a house, I found a pretty little cottage which was to let, in Port Melbourne. As I stood outside looking at it, the woman next door came over and asked me if i wanted a house.

"Very much," I replied. "But i think the rent here would be too high for me."
She then asked if i were a stranger to the district, to which I replied that I had just come from Brisbane. She seemed pleased, and said: "I will let you have it for 5/- a week if you will promise to stay here for six months. The place is worth much more than that.”
"Why so cheap?" I asked. "Is anything the matter with it?"
"Oh, no!" she said. "But the neighbours are not nice. If I were you I would not have anything to do with them."

My husband and I moved in, and furnished a bedroom and the kitchen. The cottage had four rooms, single fronted, with a passage straight through. The second bedroom, i noticed, had a dark stain on the wall just under the window, as though something had splashed against it. I felt that I did not like that room, and made the front room into a bedroom, leaving the other empty, except for lumber.

We had lived there for six weeks, until the morning of Christmas Eve. About 9:30 on that morning I went into the room and was surprised to see a man standing at a dressing table gazing into a swing mirror. He had his back to the door, but I could see his face plainly in the glass, and a razor in his hand.

Suddenly, he drew the razor across his throat, and I saw the blood gush out from the cut and splash against the wall. Screaming, I rushed out of the house and into the landlady's home next door. "For God's sake, get the police," I shrieked. “There's a man in our house and he has just cut his throat in front of the looking glass."

Then it suddenly dawned upon me that there was no table in that room. The landlady was furious.
"You are just hysterical," she said. "I suppose you have been listening to some of the neighbours tales."
I assured her I had not spoken to anyone, and turning round saw a photograph of the man.
"Why, there’s the very man," I exclaimed, "and he's is in my place now."

"Well, it is very strange," she said, "that young man was my boarder. Last Christmas Eve he committed suicide, just as you said. But I don't believe you saw anything, you imagined it after hearing about it. I will come in with you and show you there is nothing there."

We went in. The room was empty except for a couple of bags and a box. She told me the stain was really his blood and no matter how many times the wall was kalsomined it always came through.
I took my bags out and locked the door. It was never opened again during our stay, and we left the next September. I could not bring myself to stay another Christmas, but as long as I live, I shall never forget that experience

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW. Wed 6 Apr 1938

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THE PHANTOM WHISTLE

We were located in a rich gully on the Darling Ranges, twenty-five miles from Perth, Western Australia. My boy worked in the bush. We wanted him to work nearer to home in case an accident should occur, as the only passer-by was an occasional wood carter; but the boy would only smile and say: 'You shall know, dad. I will whistle. I will whistle. Our whistle was just two notes, 'Bob White.'

Then came the war. He joined up with the 28th Battalion, was in Gallipoli, then went to France, and was wounded at Pozieres. After nearly three years service he wrote to say how glad he would be to get back.

I was working in the orchard about noon one day in June, 1918, when, soft and clear, came the whistle 'Bob White.' Not a soul was in sight. Three times came the whistle. I went to the house with dread in my heart, when the call came again, and at the door stood my son in uniform.

It was the same dear face, but looking sadder. I could not speak. My legs crumpled under me and my blood was chilled. When I had mastered myself he was gone.

That afternoon the vicar came across the block. I called to him: 'There's no need to tell me your mission; I already know.'  The boy had been killed with thirty comrades coming out of the trenches, by a bomb dropped by a German airplane on June 1, 1918.

Published by The Dubbo Liberal and Macquarie Advocate NSW. Fri 16 Mar 1928

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SPIRIT WARNING

Years ago I used to do a lot of fishing on the Cairns beach. My favorite spot was a six-foot stump of a mangrove tree, which was about 100 yards from the shore, and was, at high tide, under water. I had a little friend and admirer, a photographer's daughter, five years old, who was my constant companion. Wherever I went, my little friend trotted by my side, her tiny hand in mine. One day Betty ate some green mangoes. The next day she was dead, and I was heart-broken.

About three months later, during a wild, stormy night with the rain swishing on the roof, I felt restless and very low-spirited, and seemed to be expecting I knew not what. All sorts of confused thoughts kept whirling around in my mind.

Suddenly, I felt something cold and soft touch my left hand. As my eyes opened, a vivid flash of lightning revealed the tiny, white robed form of Betty standing by my bed. In that instant, I saw her plainly outlined against the curtain. Her dark eyes, wide open with fear, seemed to look right through and beyond me.

Then, in a queer, husky little voice she spoke quickly as though afraid she would not be able to say all she wanted. "Arthur, Arthur! The big shark! He will be there tomorrow at the mangroves! Don't go out! Arthur! Arth—" Her voice broke off as though she had been snatched away.

I must have fainted, for the sun was shining when i awoke full of the horror of the night. I told nobody, and, getting my rod and bait, I rushed down to the sea. But I fished safely from the shore and watched high tide come and cover the mangrove stump out beyond. The sea was dead calm and overhead the sky was gloomy and dark with low clouds.

Suddenly I spied a long, black shadow just under the surface of the sea. Then a great, triangular fin rose out of the water and circled the spot where the mangrove stump was covered. Twice the monster swam slowly round the stump as though puzzled I was not there. Then he vanished.

I lay on the beach sobbing with fear. I was only ten, but the miracle in the night had saved me from a dreadful death. Then a cold wind blew into my face and I knew that Betty was glad.

Published by World's News, Sydney, NSW Wed 13 Apr 1938

More stories to come….

[KANACKI]

Hello headless

Wow! That Carins story was a great one. I never heard of that one.

The Sydney  Ghost story was good too. But alas I could never identity the people or the place where it happened either.

The Melbourne Story I know well. I was lucky to actually visit the house. The 1938 newspapers story recalled the haunting that happened in 1891, That was either an error of the newspaper or lapse in memory of the story teller recalling some thing back nearly 50 years ago.

The date was in 1892 that suicide too place. The alleged haunting was encountered in 1901 I suspect but both dates got mixed into 1891?

https://www.paranormal.com.au/public/index.php/topic,11380.msg162473.html#msg162473

Anyway well done with your incredible research. I look forward to your next post.

Kanacki

[Headless2]

GHOST TALE

This story, told to me by my grand-aunt, and announced quite true by my grandfather, now an old man of 92 years, will prove interesting, even to those who didn’t like listening to such stories.

In the days when convicts were still being sent to Australia, my grandfather lived in the bush out of Scone. One day he had a turkey house built, not far from the homestead, and every night, at about 12 o'clock, the roost whereon the turkeys were roosting, would roll round and the turkeys would fall screeching to the ground.

In later years a little room was built here, and on the stout post on which the turkey roost had rested, a little shelf was made, on which rested the candle, for this room was turned into a boys bedroom. But no sooner was the candle blown out than It was hurled to the ground, and at about midnight the bedclothes were pulled right off the boys.

Every night this happened, and one night the boys all caught hold of the clothes, but they were torn from their grasp. On some nights, too, they would blow out the candle and light a match immediately but nothing could be seen but the candle lying on the floor. One of the boys wanted to sit on the shelf and see what would happen, but my grandfather would not let him.

One day my grandmother pasted brown paper on the post, I suppose to hide the bareness of it, and in the morning the paper was rented in strips. Some people were of the opinion that a person was secretly buried there, or money, and grandfather wished to dig down and find out, if possible, what it really was, but the owner of the house would not let them.

Published by Published by The Sun Sydney. Sun 4 Feb 1923

[Headless2]

AN EERIE EXPERIENCE

This happened over fifty years ago. I was then working on a station in the Riverina district. I was sent to do some work on a lonely part of the run, and camped in an old hut. My only companion was a cattle dog. It turned bitterly cold the first night, so I let the dog stay in the hut for shelter. I put a log on the fire, bolted the door, and went to bed.

I was awakened about midnight, by hearing the dog growl. I sat up and looked to see what was the matter with him. There by the dim light of the fire, standing about ten feet away, with one arm pointing towards the hearth, was what looked like a human form with no head.

Knowing that my dog would tackle any living thing, I said, "Get hold of him, Bluey!" But the dog would not move an inch. So I grabbed my single-barrelled gun, which was close beside me and fired point blank at the headless form. Before I could slip another cartridge into the gun, the thing had vanished. I lit a candle, and searched the hut. but could see nothing. Nothing had been disturbed, except where the shot struck the fireplace. The door was still bolted.

I sat up all night with the loaded gun. I looked carefully for tracks next morning, but found none. So I packed up and went into the homestead and told the boss I would not stay in the hut for another night. He said, "I forgot to tell you that the hut is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of an old shepherd, who was found dead there. It was thought he had been, murdered, as his head was missing and was never found."

I believe what I saw, was something from the supernatural. Not long after, when the hut was pulled down, the workmen found a human skull hidden underneath a large, flat stone on the hearth.

Published by The World's News, Sydney, NSW, Wed 2 Mar 1938

[Headless2]

THE GHOST CHEST

When my grandmother was a little girl, a man and woman came to her father's house late one night and asked if they could leave a large oak chest there. They said if they did not call for it in 12 months time her parents could keep the chest. When the 12 months were up and no one came to claim it, the chest was unscrewed.

It contained an old black shirt, and rolled up in it was a woman's skull, also an empty work box.
My great-grandfather buried the skull, knowing it was hopeless to trace the people who had left the chest.
The chest was retained to keep clothes in. It was a wonderful chest, all oak and lined inside.
Grandmother used to say how she was always afraid of the chest, because she heard loud noises in the room where it was kept. She was always afraid to enter the room.

When grandmother's father died none of her sisters wanted the chest. It seemed a shame to destroy it, so grandmother moved it to her house as she was married then. But she kept the chest in a shed because she still had the same feeling about it as she had in her girlhood days. When my grandfather died, grandmother shifted to her eldest daughter's house (my mother) That is when I had my horrible experience.

Late one afternoon, mother sent me to the room where the chest was kept to get something. As soon as I entered the room I felt a peculiar sensation like some one watching me. I wanted to rush out, but I could not move. Something seemed to be holding me. As my eyes stared at the chest it slowly opened, and then all at once it banged shut. I screamed and rushed out of the room. I trembled with fright. When I was able to speak, I told my family what I had seen.

They went in and found the cover that was over the chest had slipped off and lay behind it. Now, I saw it on the chest when I entered the room. Since my horrible experience I have never been game to enter the room on my own.

Yet, strange to say, since grandmother died, we have not heard a noise in the room where the chest is. Before she died, we heard at a certain time every night a sound like the chest opening and shutting. The chest has been in the family now for more than 100 years

Published by The World's News (Sydney, NSW, Wed 9 Mar 1938

[Headless2]

A GHOSTLY MUSICIAN

What I am about to relate is quite fresh in my memory. In 1892 we occupied a cottage in Surry Hills containing seven rooms and an attic. It was very old, and, strange to say, whenever I entered the door, I immediately felt depressed, and the uncanny sounds which I heard at times often mystified me. Even in the dead of night strains of music could be heard, and a noise like someone tapping the floor. A friend of mine called one day when I was out, and she declared she heard somebody playing and singing inside.

As there was a splendid view from the attic window I often stood there, but never without the feeling that some one was near me. One day, when alone, and the people next door were all at a picnic, I was singing 'The Lost Chord,' and I distinctly heard a deep, rich voice join in. I stopped suddenly, but the voice still kept on. A few minutes later an awful cold shiver ran through me as something flitted past.

The same evening a boy of twelve came down from the country to stay with us. He knew nothing whatsoever about the noises I had heard. At 10 o'clock we each retired to our rooms, and the boy to the attic.

During the night, I dreamt that I crept on tip-toe up the stairs and peeped in the open door, and, to my great surprise, I saw the figure of a man sitting by the bedside of the boy and looking at him. He wore a peaked cap, with gilt buttons on the front. He had such a ghastly appearance, and such a strange light hovered round him, that I fairly leapt down the stairs with fright. Of course, I woke up feeling terribly uneasy. However, I resolved not to mention my dream to anyone until after breakfast, because most people feel more inclined to listen to you then.

We were gathered round the table, when the boy suddenly exclaimed to my father:

“What do you think ? Last night I woke up as somebody in the room was singing. There was such a funny light all round. I sat up, and I saw a man sitting on the chair watching me. He wore a cap with brass buttons. I sang out ‘Hello' then he cleared, chair and all. I'll take my oath it was a ghost.”

I asked: “Were you frightened?”  “No,” he replied; “but I don't want to see him again. I got out of bed to see if the window was fastened. It was all right.”

The lad was healthy and strong, and not given to romancing. Then I told my dream, which corresponded exactly, and everyone admitted, it was very strange that I should dream of a ghost, and the boy should see one.

Later on I went upstairs and tapped the walls to see if I could find any hollow parts, but they were quite firm. In a few place's where the wainscot was wide enough I pushed a flat stick underneath; and raked out several little things, such as pins, buttons, scraps of paper, and a half-sheet of music, crumpled up, very old and discoloured. I tried it on the piano, but it was weird, so I burnt it.

A shop at the corner of the street was next to us, only divided by a big garden. During the day I made it my business to ask the man who had lived there many years, a few questions concerning the cottage. He informed me that it was very old, and the people who occupied it when he first opened his shop were foreigners, and that a musician rented the attic, and died there.

Several parties, to his knowledge, had been in and out since them. Of course, I naturally pictured to myself some poor struggling musician, ekeing out his existence in an attic, perhaps unknown, and uncared for. A week later we quitted the cottage, and left the ghost alone in its glory.

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW. Sun 25 Aug 1901

More stories to come….

[KANACKI]

Hello Headless

Some fantastic stuff you found. For the ghost musician story for found was particular awesome. I actually found the identity of this ghost and the cottage where he allegedly haunted in 1891. The house is still here. He was a brass band leader.

Please keep the fascinating stories coming.

Kanacki

[Headless2]

QUEENSLAND GHOST

I was hawking goods in a covered motor truck in Western Queensland. About six o'clock one evening, I was bowling along quite contentedly. I was hoping to get into a town thirty miles away that night, but the appearance of storm clouds made me change my mind, and make for a deserted building ten miles further on.

I had picked up a swagman that day, and he told me about the building. "It is quite a good place, only it's supposed to be haunted," he said. It was just about dark when we got there. Then the storm broke. We rolled our blankets down on the kitchen floor. My pipe went out and I sat up to put it near my hat and boots before getting under the blankets. A woman, dressed in clothes of the Victorian era, was pacing to and fro in front of the fire.

I called to the swagman, who was about nine feet from me, to look towards the fireplace. “The ghost!" he said. And though his words were meant to be light-hearted, I could detect a quiver of fear. We sat there watching, both of us shivering with dread, for we had to pass the fireplace to get through either of the two doors leaving the kitchen.

The woman walked to and fro with her head down, and then suddenly she knelt and lifted one of the big flat stones used in the flooring and disappeared into what looked like a cellar, the stone closing after her. As soon as the stone swung into place we both made for the nearest door. We got in the car and drove it about a hundred yards from the building into the rain. There we slept.

The next morning, at sunrise, we went back to collect our things, and, on looking at the big, flat stone in front of the fireplace found that it did not seem to have been shifted. I caught hold of it with my hands. To my surprise it lifted quite easily. Looking down into the cellar we could see the skeleton of a human being. I put the stone back into place and reported the discovery to the police when I got to town.

Although the police made extensive inquiries they could not find out whose skeleton it was. The doctor said that it was the skeleton of a woman who died from injuries on the head some years ago. Five families were reared in the house, and there was always someone living there till 1930, which seems to have been the first time that the ghost was seen.

Published by The World's News Sydney, NSW, Wed 13 Apr 1938

[Headless2]

THE HAUNTED FRONT ROOM

This incident happened early in 1930. Of course, I cannot give the address of the house. It will be sufficient to state that it was on the outskirts of a large Sydney suburb. To this day, I can never recall that dreadful experience without going cold all over.

We had moved into a large house, attracted by its cheapness. My mother and I occupied a front room together. One night I awakened with a queer tight feeling around my heart. But I heard nothing beyond my mother's deep breathing. So at last, I put it down to dreams, and drifted off to sleep.

A few days later, mother moved to another room. About a month afterwards I was again wakened in that mysterious manner. This time, however, there was something in the room. Before I opened my eyes, I could hear soft breathing. Then I saw two points of light swaying above me. They reminded me of a dog's eyes i had seen in the dark once.

Then I realised what had really awakened me. A cold, clammy pressure was at my throat.  I screamed. How I sprang out of bed, opened the door and reached my father's room I do not know to this day. Although we hunted in every corner, we found nothing. The family finally decided I had bad dreams. My sister and I, however, from that moment permanently changed beds.

A month later, the household was awakened by terrified screams from the front room. We found my sister cowering in the corner. Exactly the same thing had happened to her. Shortly afterwards, we packed our belongings and moved. Suspiciously cheap houses were subsequently barred.

What haunted that house was a source of wonder until one day, not long ago, we were driving past it when a friend said: "Some people staying in that house once told me they believed the place was haunted." Questioning elicited the fact that the room supposed to be haunted was the front one, and we found that a madman had strangled his son there.

Published by The World's News (Sydney, NSW, Wed 23 Feb 1938

[Headless2]

IN A HAUNTED HOUSE

I was very sceptical of haunted houses till lately. Some recent experiences, however, have made me more respectful to spiritualists. I am still perplexed about it all, and will just chronicle my experiences as faithfully as I can. I moved into a house in Sydney the other week which had been newly painted and renovated. The landlord appeared overcome with emotion at my becoming his tenant, and that revived my fading enthusiasm over my appearance.

I felt curious, however, at the air of expectancy my advent created among the neighbors. After a day or two I began conjuring conjectures as to what induced so many people to take an interest in my house. They had a nasty habit of scrutinising it as they passed with a ‘who would have thought it’ sort of expression. Some even stopped and viewed it meditatively, as though they expected it to vanish any moment.

An old woman, whose store opposite I had begun to patronise, seemed bursting with information, and skirmished with me for a chance to relieve herself. But I had become cautious of her — 'How do you like your new house now ? No one stays there long. The last woman wouldn't stay a second week, and she'd paid in advance. How do you like it: now ?' — and kept a gloomy silence. I racked my brain to guess what it all meant, till— we'll, it was the fifth night, I think.

I'd just turned over to sleep when I experienced a sensation as though the bed were shaking. I immediately became all attention. Yes, there was no doubt of it, the bed was shaking. There was a kind of quiver in the mattress. It was similar to what one feels when a traction engine rumbles past, only in this instance the vibration was confined to the bed.

There was a sharp crack in the cupboard, and the distinct sound as of someone, barefooted walking across the floor. I sat up in bed and listened intently.

The room was in deep gloom, with a slash of moonlight across the bed from an upper slit in the window blind. The hush was now dungeon-like. I hadn't any superstitious terrors, since my mind had not been predisposed by ghosts yarns to fly at a tangent. I was simply alert, on my guard, determined to ferret out what the proceedings meant. That was all. 'Rats about,' I thought

Suddenly a cold breath passed over my face. I turned and glanced, instinctively at the blind, expecting to see some intimation of a draught. No, there was not the slightest betrayal of such. It gave me such a shock that I was nearly ‘spun' out of bed.

I say it, because I cannot yet rightly define what the sound was. The shrill tone of a clarionet or the top note of a violin was what it resembled. It seemed as though the sound had been blown at my right ear. The suddenness of it agitated me physically. The sense of something uncanny flashed through my mind, and would have thrown my thoughts into a panic had not my philosophical faculties gripped them.

At last, after so many abortive attempts to get into touch with spirits, my chance had come. The journalistic instinct for copy was also a grand support. I lay quite still, prepared to take mental notes. For several hours I was busy cataloguing effects of which the causes are still obscure to me.

Sometimes I heard a half-muffled shriek of a woman, sometimes a trail of musical notes, as though a concertina had been deliberately and slowly drawn out, sometimes sudden cracks and jars under the bed and in the cupboard. Once I peered cautiously round at the firm treading of a foot, but could see nothing but darkness.

On analysing these sounds I found they appeared to be in the inward part of my ear. They seemed far away, and yet distinctly clear, somewhat foggy at times. I also noticed that my body was in a profuse perspiration, with its every nerve quivering electrically, although my mind was cool, collected, resolute. Towards dawn the sounds ceased, and I fell asleep.

The next night I lay awake for some hours, but nothing occurred. Whether the open doors have disturbed requisite conditions or not I cannot say. The doors were shut on the night of the manifestation, and have since been open.

Were I a drinker I should suspect myself. But I am in splendid health, and the last to be juggled with by morbid fancies. However, I'm about to again favor the forces, spirits, or whatever they be, with every convenience to manifest themselves, and endeavor once and for all to label them
scientifically.

Published by Sunday Times Sydney, NSW. Sun 5 Nov 1905