This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1896. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... this same evening, to see how far this bird of the night figured in local folk-lore, but the old graybeard that I interviewed could tell me nothing more than I have mentioned. Ignorant and superstitious as he was, he told me a rambling story of how an owl might have been the ghost of an old farm-house, but was not. It ran thus: Many years ago, there was a cold rain-storm in June, and for comfort a fire was built on the open hearth instead of in the air-tight stove that stood before it. All went well until the night was well advanced, when a struggle was heard and suppressed cries, and after a brief silence, a shuffling of feet, as if at the doorstep. The men went out with a lantern, but no one was to be seen. The windows were then searched, but there was nobody near them. The older folks were becoming unsettled. The matter was discussed in whispers. Again and again the noises were heard, and, at last, when everybody was roused to a high pitch of excitement, the long stovepipe, heated by the flames upon the hearth, parted at a joint, and out flew a sooty and bedraggled little owl. No one was superstitious then; but suppose the owl had made its way back to the chimney, and by that way escaped; would not every person present have had vague, uncanny feelings? Would not the house from that time have been haunted? "Folks may be right, but when I hear o' ghosts and such like, somehow I call up always that little screech-owl, and wonder if they could n't 'a' found one somewhere, if they'd 'a' looked a little further." This sounded strangely, coming from the lips of an old man who honestly believed in luck and the asserted signs thereof; but then, ignorant or educated, who among us is consistent? But not all winter nights are tinted with volcanic dust, and what of those ...