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House of the Nightmare and Other Eerie Tales
A collection of spine-chillers for older readersContentsForeword - Kathleen LinesFROM IMAGINATIONThe House of the Nightmare - Edward Lucas WhiteThe Hauntings at Thorhallstead - Allen FrenchHis Own Number - William Croft DickinsonGabriel-Ernest - SakiHand in Glove - Elizabeth BowenMr Fox - TraditionalCurfew - L.M. BostonJohn Bartine's Watch - Ambrose BierceThe Monkey's Paw - W.W. JacobsMy Grandfather, Hendry Watty - Sir Arthur Quiller-CouchA School Story - M.R. JamesThe Red Cane - E.F. BozmanA Diagnosis of Death - Ambrose BierceBad Company - Walter de la MareProof - Henry CecilThe Amulet - Thomas RaddallThe Hair - A.J. AlanThe Return of the Native - William Croft DickinsonThe Earlier Service - Margaret IrwinFROM LIFE'Here I am Again!' - Charles G.S.-, Esq.The Man who Died at Sea - Rosemary SutcliffThe Wish Hounds - Kathleen HuntThe Man in the Road - F.M. PilkingtonMy Haunted Houses - M. Joyce DixonIn Search of a Ghost - Eric RobertsThe Limping Man of Makin-Meang - Sir Arthur Grimble
Hardcover
First published January 1, 1967
About the author
Kathleen Lines
31 books10 followersKathleen Mary Lines was a book critic, editor, anthologist and librarian from Canada. An expert on children's literature, she wrote, compiled, and edited Four to Fourteen (1950) for the National Book League. She also wrote the introduction to the second edition of F. J. Harvey Darton's Children's Books in England (1958) and edited a series of illustrated fairy tale picture books. Artists for the picture books included Edward Ardizzone for the Bodley Head. Lines was also the general editor of the Bodley Head Monographs and edited Lavender's Blue (1954), a selection of classic nursery rhymes illustrated by Harold Jones. The book won a Carnegie special commendation.[2]
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
December 17, 2012
This really is a very well thought out collection of high quality ‘ghost’ stories; the majority from fiction; plus a goodly number of unexplained phenomena from life. Those two categories make for interesting comparison. There is a defined plot to imaginative fiction, even where the author succeeds in springing a twist in the ending of the tale. Those recounted of an inexplicable event in real life show the teller struggling in a modicum of confusion. “Who will believe me?” “Do even I believe what I’ve just seen / heard myself?"
It’s hard to pick a favourite; but of those stories which were new to me (most of them), my pick would be Margaret Irwin’s “The Earlier Service” which so vividly describes the quiet of the centuries found in a medieval English church; the accompanying lives of the generations who have lived, worshipped and gone before, the depth and quiet of the timeless, the hope of Heaven and fear of Hell. “We do not presume to come to this …” I say no more. Read it for yourself; especially after attending 1662 Book of Common Prayer Evening Prayer / Evensong on a dark winter’s night!
All of these stories are written in a style of English that is excellent to read aloud. None are over lengthy; many would make imaginative and excellent playlets for Halloween, Christmas, or New Year: always supposing that one could disconnect children (and adults) from their self-inflicted isolation playing with tech.
It’s hard to pick a favourite; but of those stories which were new to me (most of them), my pick would be Margaret Irwin’s “The Earlier Service” which so vividly describes the quiet of the centuries found in a medieval English church; the accompanying lives of the generations who have lived, worshipped and gone before, the depth and quiet of the timeless, the hope of Heaven and fear of Hell. “We do not presume to come to this …” I say no more. Read it for yourself; especially after attending 1662 Book of Common Prayer Evening Prayer / Evensong on a dark winter’s night!
All of these stories are written in a style of English that is excellent to read aloud. None are over lengthy; many would make imaginative and excellent playlets for Halloween, Christmas, or New Year: always supposing that one could disconnect children (and adults) from their self-inflicted isolation playing with tech.
Want to Read
November 29, 2022PLACEHOLDER REVIEWS
"The Hair" by A.J. Alan - A man discovers a small metal box in an antique store, which holds a plait made of women's hair. He then accidentally discovers that the hairs hold a strange, malignant ability to cause harm... Eh, another of Alan's "charming" yarns of humorous paranormal oddity. You can tell what you're dealing with by the main character, after testing out his theories about the wounding properties of the hair (with a shrugged off sardonic note about the lives lost), figures to use it to win a bundle at the track. Eh.
"The Hair" by A.J. Alan - A man discovers a small metal box in an antique store, which holds a plait made of women's hair. He then accidentally discovers that the hairs hold a strange, malignant ability to cause harm... Eh, another of Alan's "charming" yarns of humorous paranormal oddity. You can tell what you're dealing with by the main character, after testing out his theories about the wounding properties of the hair (with a shrugged off sardonic note about the lives lost), figures to use it to win a bundle at the track. Eh.
January 2, 2021
FROM IMAGINATION
The House of the Nightmare - Edward Lucas White
The Hauntings at Thorhallstead - Allen French
His Own Number - William Croft Dickinson
Gabriel-Ernest - Saki
Hand in Glove - Elizabeth Bowen
Mr Fox - Traditional
Curfew - L.M. Boston
John Bartine's Watch - Ambrose Bierce
The Monkey's Paw - W.W. Jacobs
My Grandfather, Hendry Watty - Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
A School Story - M.R. James
The Red Cane - E.F. Bozman
A Diagnosis of Death - Ambrose Bierce
Bad Company - Walter de la Mare
Proof - Henry Cecil
The Amulet - Thomas Raddall
The Hair - A.J. Alan
The Return of the Native - William Croft Dickinson
The Earlier Service - Margaret Irwin
FROM LIFE
'Here I am Again!' - Charles G.S.-, Esq.
The Man who Died at Sea - Rosemary Sutcliff
The Wish Hounds - Kathleen Hunt
The Man in the Road - F.M. Pilkington
My Haunted Houses - M. Joyce Dixon
In Search of a Ghost - Eric Roberts
The Limping Man of Makin-Meang - Sir Arthur Grimble
The House of the Nightmare - Edward Lucas White
The Hauntings at Thorhallstead - Allen French
His Own Number - William Croft Dickinson
Gabriel-Ernest - Saki
Hand in Glove - Elizabeth Bowen
Mr Fox - Traditional
Curfew - L.M. Boston
John Bartine's Watch - Ambrose Bierce
The Monkey's Paw - W.W. Jacobs
My Grandfather, Hendry Watty - Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
A School Story - M.R. James
The Red Cane - E.F. Bozman
A Diagnosis of Death - Ambrose Bierce
Bad Company - Walter de la Mare
Proof - Henry Cecil
The Amulet - Thomas Raddall
The Hair - A.J. Alan
The Return of the Native - William Croft Dickinson
The Earlier Service - Margaret Irwin
FROM LIFE
'Here I am Again!' - Charles G.S.-, Esq.
The Man who Died at Sea - Rosemary Sutcliff
The Wish Hounds - Kathleen Hunt
The Man in the Road - F.M. Pilkington
My Haunted Houses - M. Joyce Dixon
In Search of a Ghost - Eric Roberts
The Limping Man of Makin-Meang - Sir Arthur Grimble
December 30, 2022
Quite the collection really, especially for an audience ostensibly of eleven and over (I’m reviewing the Puffin edition). A nice combination of classics, newer stories, surprisingly dark tales (a friend has pointed out how strikingly homoerotic Gabriel Ernest is, which as a childhood Saki fan I would never have noticed) and a handful of lighter ones (the Henry Cecil is a nice spin on Munby’s Encounter in the Mist and AJ Alan is as fun as ever). Particularly striking are the experiences of hauntings section. If the book as a whole is marked by it’s willingness to provide a young audience with the whole gamut of ghosts in weird fiction, the experiences feel like an elderly relative taking you into their intimate trust and telling you morbid tales of yesteryear. A great collection
February 20, 2017
It’s a nice cover, isn’t it? Apparently it is by Madelon Vriesendorp.
This is a fairly middling collection of ghost stories, but with a few interesting surprises. The usual suspects are present and correct: M. R. James, Ambrose Bierce, Saki, W. W. Jacobs. The title story is by Edward Lucas White, and is a perfectly fine example of its type: man crashes his car; man comes upon a lonely house inhabited by a dull, lonely boy; strange things occur. There’s a faintly whimsical tone throughout exemplified by ‘Hand in Glove’, a story by Elizabeth Bowen about a pair of sisters who covet their mother’s expensive clothes, and who are compelled to investigate the mysterious trunk in her attic. This is, after all, a Puffin collection: generally whenever something really appalling happens it is tempered with dark humour.
Apart from James’ excellent ‘School Story’, the best thing here is probably ‘Bad Company’ by Walter de la Mare. A man on the tube encounters a sinister stranger who leads him down a series of forgotten alleyways to an abandoned house. He finds there a corpse and a will which excises several members of the dead man’s family from his estate; the visitor suddenly comes to believe this is vile and unjust, and he destroys the document. And then it ends very suddenly. The suggestion is that the stranger was a ghost returning from the dead to stop his actions affecting his family; but how odd that the family only features in the imagination of the visitor. There’s faith in redemption and forgiveness here, but it’s a lonely sort of faith.
More interesting are the stories here by authors who are little known or forgotten:
L. M. Boston — sometimes cited as Lucy M. Boston — is known as a writer of books for children, but ‘Curfew’ would make for a very unsettling story at bedtime. Any tale in which an old bell is dredged from the bottom of a flooded lake, and is subsequently hung in the old bell tower, and then rings after dark of its own accord, is one in which little joy can be found. It’s pleasingly grim.
William Croft Dickinson was a writer about whom I can find little. He was a historian, and wrote books for children, but he also seems to have had a sideline in strange stories that are now almost entirely out of print. He’s the only writer to have two tales featured here, of which ‘His Own Number’ is the notable for featuring an early example of a computer in a horror story. It’s a little predictable, but it has some haunting effects. I love the text of the handwritten note the technician leaves scrawled alongside the number (585244) which the machine keeps crunching out: ‘it’s come for the third time.’
A. J. Alan was at one point rather famous — Wikipedia describes him rather charmingly as ‘an English magician, intelligence officer, short story writer and radio broadcaster’. His story, ‘The Hair’, is one of the weirdest here: a man finds an old box in an antique shop which contains a strand of intertwined hairs that act like a needle in a voodoo doll when they come to touch a face in a photograph. It effectively becomes a story of a serial killer, written in a conversational style with a sort of perverse glee that reminded me of E. F. Benson and Jeremy Dyson.
Lastly there’s ‘The Red Cane’ by E. F. Bozman, a name that sounds almost like it must be a pseudonym. Again, his works seem to be entirely out of print. This story is only a few pages long, and it has the feeling of something written in a hurry: it comes as a rush of bright, clear imagery, but it somehow manages to encompass both a single short moment and a whole lifetime of experience.
A man is walking across a bit of common land with the intention of visiting an old friend who lives nearby. It’s dark, and for a while he walks with a woman going in the same direction. He’s trying to be a gentleman, but she makes it clear she can handle herself:
‘Lonely? Why should I feel lonely? The place is full of my friends and I am never alone in my mind for a minute of the day or night. Just think to yourself that great gangs of young men are building an enormous double-track motorway over there on the other side of the town; and that two thousand years ago Roman soldiers were tramping down the Icknield Way to build the camp on top of the hill. Probably you know it?’
Modernity is here, but in the world of the story, this patch of common land is somehow outside of it. It’s a border territory of sorts between one world and the next. It’s a place where all times seem to be occurring simultaneously.
Once again, the twist is predictable. When she says ‘this place is full of my friends’ she means the dead, of course, because she is a ghost. But there is a second twist: she is also the old friend he was going to visit, the friend from so many years ago. She is already carrying the red cane he was going to give her. It suggests a circulatory conclusion where the end becomes the beginning: the man gives her a gift which she already owns so that she will have it in hand when she comes to meet her, years later.
The only constant is that she is always in one place, and he in another; they are predestined to meet by chance and part without understanding, forever. But how strange that the world of the dead is shown as the world of society, while the life of the living is being left alone. ‘…And remember this, that you need never feel lonely, for one moment,’ she says. ‘‘You only have to think…think that you will never forget this little walk we have had together! Because you never will! Never. Will you?’ And she gave a little laugh.’’
This is a fairly middling collection of ghost stories, but with a few interesting surprises. The usual suspects are present and correct: M. R. James, Ambrose Bierce, Saki, W. W. Jacobs. The title story is by Edward Lucas White, and is a perfectly fine example of its type: man crashes his car; man comes upon a lonely house inhabited by a dull, lonely boy; strange things occur. There’s a faintly whimsical tone throughout exemplified by ‘Hand in Glove’, a story by Elizabeth Bowen about a pair of sisters who covet their mother’s expensive clothes, and who are compelled to investigate the mysterious trunk in her attic. This is, after all, a Puffin collection: generally whenever something really appalling happens it is tempered with dark humour.
Apart from James’ excellent ‘School Story’, the best thing here is probably ‘Bad Company’ by Walter de la Mare. A man on the tube encounters a sinister stranger who leads him down a series of forgotten alleyways to an abandoned house. He finds there a corpse and a will which excises several members of the dead man’s family from his estate; the visitor suddenly comes to believe this is vile and unjust, and he destroys the document. And then it ends very suddenly. The suggestion is that the stranger was a ghost returning from the dead to stop his actions affecting his family; but how odd that the family only features in the imagination of the visitor. There’s faith in redemption and forgiveness here, but it’s a lonely sort of faith.
More interesting are the stories here by authors who are little known or forgotten:
L. M. Boston — sometimes cited as Lucy M. Boston — is known as a writer of books for children, but ‘Curfew’ would make for a very unsettling story at bedtime. Any tale in which an old bell is dredged from the bottom of a flooded lake, and is subsequently hung in the old bell tower, and then rings after dark of its own accord, is one in which little joy can be found. It’s pleasingly grim.
William Croft Dickinson was a writer about whom I can find little. He was a historian, and wrote books for children, but he also seems to have had a sideline in strange stories that are now almost entirely out of print. He’s the only writer to have two tales featured here, of which ‘His Own Number’ is the notable for featuring an early example of a computer in a horror story. It’s a little predictable, but it has some haunting effects. I love the text of the handwritten note the technician leaves scrawled alongside the number (585244) which the machine keeps crunching out: ‘it’s come for the third time.’
A. J. Alan was at one point rather famous — Wikipedia describes him rather charmingly as ‘an English magician, intelligence officer, short story writer and radio broadcaster’. His story, ‘The Hair’, is one of the weirdest here: a man finds an old box in an antique shop which contains a strand of intertwined hairs that act like a needle in a voodoo doll when they come to touch a face in a photograph. It effectively becomes a story of a serial killer, written in a conversational style with a sort of perverse glee that reminded me of E. F. Benson and Jeremy Dyson.
Lastly there’s ‘The Red Cane’ by E. F. Bozman, a name that sounds almost like it must be a pseudonym. Again, his works seem to be entirely out of print. This story is only a few pages long, and it has the feeling of something written in a hurry: it comes as a rush of bright, clear imagery, but it somehow manages to encompass both a single short moment and a whole lifetime of experience.
A man is walking across a bit of common land with the intention of visiting an old friend who lives nearby. It’s dark, and for a while he walks with a woman going in the same direction. He’s trying to be a gentleman, but she makes it clear she can handle herself:
‘Lonely? Why should I feel lonely? The place is full of my friends and I am never alone in my mind for a minute of the day or night. Just think to yourself that great gangs of young men are building an enormous double-track motorway over there on the other side of the town; and that two thousand years ago Roman soldiers were tramping down the Icknield Way to build the camp on top of the hill. Probably you know it?’
Modernity is here, but in the world of the story, this patch of common land is somehow outside of it. It’s a border territory of sorts between one world and the next. It’s a place where all times seem to be occurring simultaneously.
Once again, the twist is predictable. When she says ‘this place is full of my friends’ she means the dead, of course, because she is a ghost. But there is a second twist: she is also the old friend he was going to visit, the friend from so many years ago. She is already carrying the red cane he was going to give her. It suggests a circulatory conclusion where the end becomes the beginning: the man gives her a gift which she already owns so that she will have it in hand when she comes to meet her, years later.
The only constant is that she is always in one place, and he in another; they are predestined to meet by chance and part without understanding, forever. But how strange that the world of the dead is shown as the world of society, while the life of the living is being left alone. ‘…And remember this, that you need never feel lonely, for one moment,’ she says. ‘‘You only have to think…think that you will never forget this little walk we have had together! Because you never will! Never. Will you?’ And she gave a little laugh.’’
December 30, 2023
Now I qualify as an older reader, I must concur that this is indeed a fine collection. Not just the obvious entrées (The Monkey’s Paw, MR James, Ambrose Bierce), but unexpected selections too from Elizabeth Bowen, LM Boston and Walter de la (Night)Mare. I swapped for this book with a friend when we were 10 years old and in the school book club, and it’s an adventurous anthology which, with cannibalism, Satanic rituals in a Devon church, and a computer that predicts its operator’s death, I’m not sure would nowadays get past the beak. My favourites - the tale of a vengeful glove, and the one about a wig, a wouldbe fraudster and a misfortune with a bottle of hair restorer. Gripping stuff.
November 28, 2020
Full of excellent ghost stories not seen elsewhere. The only tale in it that’s widely (very widely) anthologized is The Monkey’s Paw. The “tales from real life” section at the end is pretty weak , but still fun.
December 29, 2021
Interesting tales of their time. Gave me an author or two to look up and read.
December 25, 2024
Some average some good and some excellent stories of not really horror but more like ghost stories or super natural
March 3, 2016
Anything sufficiently old and dusty is often assumed toothless, harmless, even child's play, and thrown to the world of children's literature as the adults rush to what is new and shiny. Hence my childhood love of the uncanny, as exemplified by the numerous "nineteenth and early twentieth century supernatural fiction" collections that flooded so many children's and YA libraries during the sixties and seventies. Editor Kathleen Lines focuses distinctly on British weird fiction of the M. R. James antiquarian type, and intersperses it with true or allegedly true tales of supernatural occurrences.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews