For trouble upon trouble fell in heaps, faster than I can wipe my eyes to think.

To begin with, all the servants but myself and gardener Jacob ran away.

They said that the old lord haunted the house, and walked with his hand in the middle of his heart, pulling out a bullet if he met any body, and sighing 'murder' three times, till every hair was crawling.

I took it on myself to fetch the Vicar of the parish to lay the evil spirit, as they do in Wales.

A nice kind gentleman he was as you could see, and wore a velvet skull-cap, and waited with his legs up.