Mr. T.J.  Westropp, to whom we are indebted for so much material, sends a tale which used to be related by a relative of his, the Rev. Thomas Westropp, concerning experiences in a house not very far from the city of Limerick.  When the latter was appointed to a certain parish he had some difficulty in finding a suitable house, but finally fixed on one which had been untenanted for many years, but had nevertheless been kept aired and in good repair, as a caretaker who lived close by used to come and look after it every day.  The first night that the family settled there, as the clergyman was going upstairs he heard a footstep and the rustle of a dress, and as he stood aside a lady passed him, entered a door facing the stairs, and closed it after her.  It was only then he realised that her dress was very old-fashioned, and that he had not been able to enter that particular room.  Next day he got assistance from a carpenter, who, with another man, forced open the door.  A mat of cobwebs fell as they did so, and the floor and windows were thick with dust.  The men went across the room, and as the clergyman followed them he saw a small white bird flying round the ceiling; at his exclamation the men looked back and also saw it.  It swooped, flew out of the door, and they did not see it again.  After that the family were alarmed by hearing noises under the floor of that room every night.  At length the clergyman had the boards taken up, and the skeleton of a child was found underneath.  So old did the remains appear that the coroner did not deem it necessary to hold an inquest on them, so the rector buried them in the churchyard.  Strange noises continued, as if some one were trying to force up the boards from underneath.  Also a heavy ball was heard rolling down the stairs and striking against the study door.  One night the two girls woke up screaming, and on the nurse running up to them, the elder said she had seen a great black dog with fiery eyes resting its paws on her bed.  Her father ordered the servants to sit constantly with them in the evenings, but, notwithstanding the presence of two women in the nursery, the same thing occurred.  The younger daughter was so scared that she never quite recovered.  The family left the house immediately.

The same correspondent says:  “An old ruined house in the hills of east Co.  Clare enjoyed the reputation of being ‘desperately haunted’ from, at any rate, 1865 down to its dismantling.  I will merely give the experiences of my own relations, as told by them to me.  My mother told how one night she and my father heard creaking and grating, as if a door were being forced open.  The sound came from a passage in which was a door nailed up and clamped with iron bands.  A heavy footstep came down the passage, and stopped at the bedroom door for a moment; no sound was heard, and then the ‘thing’ came through the room to the foot of the bed.  It moved round the bed, they not daring to stir.  The horrible unseen visitant stopped, and they felt it watching them.  At last it moved away, they heard it going up the passage, the door crashed, and all was silence.  Lighting a candle, my father examined the room, and found the door locked; he then went along the passage, but not a sound was to be heard anywhere.