Chapter 4

That burning house was a wonderful adventure in it, and that confused soul moved to the other world after she saw her daughter for the last time and reassurance, today I have a trip to a new home.

On my birthday, I visited a house that was shrouded in mystery. I walked there straight from the train, and it was a sunny day with no wind, rain, or other ominous weather to give it a foreboding air. I could see the goods train passing in front of the house's entrance as it glided along the bridge in the valley. However, I won't say that everything was normal because I doubt there is anything that could be considered normal.

First, I want to explain how and why I arrived there. Due to health issues, I had to stay in the town, and one of my friends learned of this. He wrote to me about the house and said he thought it would be ideal for me. When I was traveling to London from the north, I resolved to stop by the house. However, it was midnight when I boarded the train and I promptly fell asleep. When I awoke, I glanced out the window at the brilliant aurora borealis.

Ironically, though, I was completely persuaded that I hadn't slept at all, and in this state of ignorance, I guess I felt humiliated since I was on the verge of arguing with the man seated before me because he had so many cunning tricks in addition to acting in a way that was so out of character. I had to accept him on the premise that he was a capable engineer because he had a pencil and a pocketbook, so he could hear and record his observations, which I assumed related to the jolts and bumps of the train cars. Though he appeared to be a gentleman, his behavior was intolerable because he would look at me whenever he heard a collision.

I turned to my traveling companion and said: "When I woke up, the sun had not yet risen and it was cold. I saw the pale light of the railroad fires and the veil of smoke that blocked the stars and sunshine."

"Do you see anything wrong with me, sir? Excuse me. I honestly can't take it any longer, so"

The man graciously turned away while expressing pity for my trivialities.

"You and I are unrelated, sir."

He abruptly stopped speaking before uttering the letter "o," which he quickly recorded in the notes. Being unable to converse with the guards and these bizarre features initially worried me, so it's fortunate that I had the thought that this man probably should write psalms for a hymn-singing religious group. I appreciate this sect even though I do not subscribe to it. I was about to ask him a question when he started to talk.

"If you know that I'm concerned with enhancing human nature in general, you'll understand why. All day and night, I engaged in association and communication with spirits."

"Oh!"

The evening talks have begun.

The man went through the pages of his notebook and kept talking.

"Manners are ruined by evil voices."

"Voices but unquestionably new"

"New souls"

I could only repeat the word he likes, "Oh," and inquire enquiringly about his most recent interaction, to which he solemnly replied.

The saying "a bird in the hand is worth two in the air"

"But it can't be two in the bush, can it?"

"I heard it as two in the air."

He responded assuredly and continued, saying:

"Look! This unique message was delivered to me by the ghost of Socrates."

I hope all is fine with you, my friend. There are two train cars with 17,000 and 70 souls in them, but you cannot see them. Pythagoras is also present, but he is unable to speak. Nevertheless, he hopes that you enjoy traveling. Galileo Lycus' spirit came into the world as well. She added that everything would happen on time and added, "I am glad to meet you, Amiko." Additionally, the following events took place during the night:

The Gentleman's Spiritual Relationship seemed to me to be such an unprofessional business as science has always seen it at that lovely hour of the morning when I walked among the leaves that had already fallen from the golden, brown, and burgundy trees, as I looked around at the wonders of creation and contemplated the unchanging and harmonious laws by which they are preserved. However, when I came to this house and stood to carefully inspect it, it was a single house, sta

It was constructed around the time of George II; It was empty but was inexpensively repaired in a year or two to make it habitable; It was as stiff, frigid, formal, and bad-tempered as the most enthusiastic lover of the entire George Quartet could hope; Cheap, I say, because the work was only superficially completed, the paint was already peeling, the siding had fallen in the garden, the trees were quite close together and excessively shading the area, and there were six tall poplar trees in particular. It was simple to determine that the property had been abandoned and that no one would want to buy it due to the front windows' dark and awkward placement.

I felt nothing special to occupy my time after moving into this home, and the days passed with routine boredom. For example, every morning in the summer, I get up early and organize my room because the silence and isolation all around me affected my daily routine. Being surrounded by people you recognize who have passed on is dreadful. Knowing that the people you care about don't feel you is incredibly painful. Painful is that halted life, the torn threads of yesterday, those closed books and benches, this unfinished but deserted occupation, the calm of the hour is the calm of death, color, and cold are partners, even when there is nothing left to do but wait. On some air, domestic familiar

I once saw my father at the same time, still alive and in perfect health, as if nothing had happened. He was leaning on his hand and seated with his back to me next to the bed when I saw him in the open. I'm not sure if he was sleeping or depressed. I spoke to him after noticing that he was still, but he did not respond. Panicking, I put my hand on his shoulder as I thought, and then he vanished as if nothing had happened.

For all of the above reasons, and less straightforwardly and succinctly, I discovered that early morning is the best time for ghosts to appear, and any house can be somewhat haunted. Since it may be more advantageous for me (early morning and in a haunted house) at that time, I considered wandering around the village. I ran into the home's owner at the door as I was leaving while my mind was focused on the reason I was leaving this residence. That's why I asked him to join me for breakfast. I brought up the home during breakfast, and without introducing myself, I questioned him:

"Is it possessed?"