MY father made the acquaintance of a retired colonel, who lived six
miles from our home. Sometimes father went over to tea with him. On
one occasion father saw a short thick man pass through the
drawing-room without opening the door. He felt so uncomfortable, that
the colonel asked him what was the matter. Father explained. “Oh,”
said the colonel, “that was only our little pedlar. The legend is
that a pedlar was seen to come to this house, but he never left it.
His pedlary is said to be put behind that fireplace.”
“Why don't you have it opened?” asked my father. “No fear, I don't
want to, the pedlar doesn't worry me.”