CHAPTER III.
THE HAUNTED HOUSE.
Down our long, green lane, and at the further extremity of the narrow footpath which led to the "old mine," was another path or wagon road which wound along among the fern bushes, under the chestnut trees, across the hemlock swamp, and up, to a grassy ridge which overlooked a small pond, said, of course, to have no bottom.

Fully crediting this story, and knowing, moreover, that China was opposite to us, I have often taken down my atlas and hunted through that ancient empire, in hopes of finding a corresponding sheet of water.

Failing to do so I had made one with my pencil, writing against it, "Cranberry Pond," that being the name of its American brother.
Just above the pond on the grassy ridge stood an old, dilapidated building which had long borne the name of the "haunted house." I never knew whether this title was given it on account of its proximity to the "old mine," or because it stood near the very spot where, years and years ago, the "bloody Indians" pushed those cart-loads of burning hemp against the doors "of the only remaining house in Quaboag"-- for which see Goodrich's Child's History, page--, somewhere toward the commencement.

I only know that 'twas called the "haunted house," and that for a long time no one would live there, on account of the rapping, dancing, and cutting up generally which was said to prevail, there particularly in the west room, the one overhung with ivy and grapevines.
Three or four years before our story opens a widow lady, Mrs.Hudson, with her only daughter, Mabel, appeared in our neighborhood, hiring the "haunted house," and, in spite of the neighbors' predictions to the contrary, living there quietly and peaceably, unharmed by ghost or goblin.

At first Mrs.Hudson was looked upon with distrust, and even a league with a certain old fellow was hinted at; but as she seemed to be well disposed, kind, and affable toward all, this feeling gradually wore away, and now she was universally liked, while Mabel, her daughter, was a general favorite.