Matt Soniack

Here are some classic Spooky legends that i think you will enjoy. 🙂


Once there was an old woman who went out in the woods to dig up some roots to cook for dinner. She spotted something funny sticking out of the leaves and dug around until she uncovered a great big hairy toe. There was some good meat on that toe which would make a real tasty dinner, so the old woman put it in her basket and took it home. When she got back to her cottage, the old woman boiled up a kettle-full of hairy toe soup, which she ate for dinner that night. It was the best meal she’d had in weeks! The old woman went to bed that night with a full stomach and a big smile. Along about midnight, a cold wind started blowing in the tops of the trees around the old woman’s house. A large black cloud crept over the moon and from the woods a hollow voice rumbled: “Hairy toe! Hairy toe! I want my hairy toe!” Inside the house, the old woman stirred uneasily in her bed and nervously pulled the covers up over her ears.From the woods there came a stomp-stomp-stomping noise as the wind whistled and jerked at the treetops. In the clearing at the edge of the forest, a hollow voice said: “Hairy toe! Hairy toe! I want my hairy toe!” Inside the house, the old woman shuddered and turned over in her sleep. A stomp, stomp, stomping sound came from the garden path outside the cottage. The night creatures shivered in their burrows as a hollow voice howled: “Hairy toe! Hairy toe! I want my hairy toe!” Inside the house, the old woman snapped awake. Her whole body shook with fright as she listened to the angry howling in her garden. Jumping out of bed, she ran to the door and barred it. Once the cottage was secure, she lay back down to sleep. Suddenly, the front door of the cottage burst open with a bang, snapping the bar in two and sending it flying into the corners of the room. There came the stomp, stomp, stomping noise of giant feet walking up the stairs. Peeping out from under the covers, the old woman saw a massive figure filling her doorway. It said: “Hairy toe! Hairy toe! I want my hairy toe!” The old woman sat bolt upright in terror and shouted: “I ATE your hairy toe!” “Yes, you did,” the giant figure said very gently as it advanced into the room. No one living in the region ever saw the old woman again. The only clue to her disappearance was a giant footprint a neighbor found pressed deep into the loose soil of the meadow beside the house. The footprint was missing the left big toe.


Once there was a boy who had a friendly white dog named Ghost. Joey and Ghost were best friends. They loved to roam the countryside looking for adventure. They climbed rocks and waded through cool streams. Joey’s neighbors all liked Ghost, too. One day, Farmer Green saw the two friends walk by his farm. “There goes that boy and his white dog again,” he said. “They’re lucky to have each other.”  That day, Joey and Ghost were hunting squirrels. They never caught any. But the chase was the fun part. Ghost would sniff them out. Then the two friends would run after the squirrel until it hid in a tree. Suddenly, Ghost spotted a squirrel. Then Joey saw the squirrel. Ghost ran around a rock. When Joey got to the other side of the rock, he stopped. Ghost barked at Joey. “What’s wrong, boy?” he asked. Ghost kept barking until Joey backed up behind the rock. Then Ghost moved. Now Joey could see why his friend was barking. A large black snake was coiled up next to the rock! Ghost had protected Joey. “What a good boy!” Joey said. “Let’s go home.” That night, Joey said good night to Ghost. Then he left a treat for him on the doorstep. “See you in the morning,” he said. The next morning, Joey jumped out of bed and ran downstairs. Outside, he whistled for Ghost. “Gho-o-o-st! Come here, boy,” he called. But Ghost did not come. Joey wondered where his best friend could be. He ran to the barn to find his father. “Have you seen Ghost?” he asked. Joey’s dad climbed down from the tractor. “Son, I found Ghost this morning,” his father started. “He wasn’t moving, so I took him to Dr. Parker’s house. I’m afraid there was nothing he could do. Ghost was very old.” Joey was heartbroken. He would miss his friend so much. He wondered who would explore the woods with him. After Ghost was gone, Joey spent most of his time alone in the woods. He walked along the creeks where he had once played with Ghost. One day, Joey ventured farther than he had ever gone before. He was walking along the edge of a ravine. Suddenly, he lost his footing. The rock gave way and Joey landed on a ledge below. Joey’s leg was twisted and scraped. He could not climb out of the ravine. Joey yelled for help. But no one was close enough to hear him. A few miles down the road, Farmer Green was working in his field. It was a very hot day. He wiped the sweat from his brow. Just then, he noticed a white dog running towards him. It looked like Joey’s dog. The dog barked and barked at Farmer Green. “Hey Ghost, how’re you doing?” he said. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” The dog continued to bark at him. Farmer Green tried to drive his tractor through the rows of beans. But the dog ran right in front of the tractor’s wheels. Farmer Green blew the tractor’s horn. But the dog would not budge. Finally, Farmer Green turned off the engine and climbed down from his tractor. “Where’s your friend?” he asked. “Now go find him.” The dog was very persistent. He continued to bark at Farmer Green. Then he ran up to Farmer Green. He grabbed the man’s trousers in his mouth and tried to pull him along. “Whoa! Okay!” said Farmer Green. “I’m coming. Let’s go.” Farmer Green followed the dog through the woods. They wandered for miles through thick brush and tall trees. Every few feet the dog would look back at Farmer Green. He wanted to be sure the man was following him. They came closer to the ravine. The dog disappeared in the brush. “Now where did you go?” called the farmer. Then he heard the boy’s cries. Joey was trying to yell for help. He had almost given up. Then he heard a man yelling back to him. “Hello-o-o!” yelled Farmer Green. “Are you hurt?” Joey looked up from the ledge. He could see Farmer Green standing at the edge of the ravine. The man was peering down at Joey. He could barely see the boy through the trees. “I’m okay, but my leg is hurt,” Joey yelled back. “I can’t make it up there all by myself.” “Hang on,” said the farmer. “I’ll help you up.” Farmer Green found a strong vine. He held one end of the vine. Then he threw the other end to Joey. “Use this to pull yourself up,” he said. Joey grabbed onto the vine. It was strong and thick like a rope. Using his good leg, Joey pulled himself up the side of the ravine. Near the top, Farmer Green reached over and pulled Joey onto the rocks. “Thank you,” said Joey. He tried to catch his breath. Farmer Green helped Joey sit up on the rocks. “Let’s have a look at that leg,” he said. Joey’s leg was still bleeding. “It hurts,” Joey said, “but I think I can walk.” “Let’s find a branch you can use as a crutch,” Farmer Green said. Farmer Green pulled the bark off one end of the branch. Then he helped Joey to his feet. “You can use this branch as a crutch,” he said. “Now let’s get you home.” Joey stood up shakily. “Thank you, Farmer Green,” he said. Joey steadied himself with the crutch. Farmer Green held onto his other arm. Then they hiked through the brush.  When they came to a clearing, Farmer Green spoke. “That’s some dog you got there!” he said. “What do you mean?” asked Joey. “I mean, you’d still be sitting in that ravine if that white dog didn’t show me where you were,” said Farmer Green. “He came to my field and barked and barked. Then he led me out into the woods to find you.” Joey could not believe what Farmer Green was saying. “That couldn’t have been my dog, sir,” whispered the boy. “My dog died almost a month ago.”


Mrs. Herbert was exhausted from her journey and went to bed early. Sometime later, she awoke to find a young boy dressed in white pajamas, kneeling beside her bed. He stared at her with the saddest eyes she had ever seen. His face was so thin and drawn she was sure that, if he tried to stand up, he would surely keel right over. The boy’s silent expression pleaded with Mrs. Herbert. She sat up in bed and studied his face more carefully. As she did, she heard a voice inside her head: “Call mummy, call mummy. She’s in the next room.”  Mrs. Herbert knew that the boy wasn’t one of the Ross children; they were all grown and living abroad. She looked at his face again.  His expression was so insistent that she finally said out loud: “Mummy.” Immediately his hands began to claw at her arm. “Please,” his face said. “Please I need your help. Please.” His pleading look upset her so much that her eyes filled with tears. “Mummy,” she said again. He reached toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders, as if he were begging her to call his mother again. “Mummy!” she called in a loud, clear voice. At that moment, he disappeared. And Mrs. Herbert was so overcome with fatigue that she fell asleep and didn’t awake until Mrs. Ross knocked on her door the next morning. She told Mrs. Ross about her encounter with the boy. “I never heard a sound,” Mrs. Ross said. “I’m not sure how loudly I was speaking,” Mrs. Herbert explained. “I’m sure I thought I was screaming. He was so desperate. The look in his eyes was so pitiful. And when he clawed my arm, the sensation was so vivid that I can still feel it now.” She rubbed her forearm. “I’m sure I would have been quite scared,” Mrs. Ross said. “Being a ghost and all.” “But that’s the odd part,” Mrs. Herbert replied. “I wasn’t frightened at all. I just felt so badly for the boy. ” By evening, Mrs. Herbert was so upset about the boy’s visit that Mrs. Ross questioned her next-door neighbor who had lived at Vicarage Farm her entire life. “Did a little boy ever die in the house?” she asked.  Yes, my brother Johnnie Minney,” the neighbor said. “Then come next door with me and listen to my friend. She has had an experience you’ll want to hear. ” Mrs. Herbert’s story upset the neighbor so much that she cried. “You saw Johnnie–my brother–who died when he was five,” she said. Forty-four years earlier, in 1921, he had become ill. At that time, the house had not been divided, and Johnnie’s bedroom was the one now used by Mrs. Herbert. “He had meningitis,” the neighbor said, “and he became terribly thin. The way you describe him is how he looked before he died. It was such an awful time for all of us. Sometimes he had spells when he seemed quite normal; then there were times when he’d shout with pain and cry and call for Mummy, as if he couldn’t bear it.” During the last few months of his life, he lay in his mother’s bedroom–the one now used by Mrs. Ross. During that hot summer, his mother and sister took turns placing ice on his forehead in a futile attempt to reduce his temperature. Finally, on August 21st, he died, an emaciated boy of five. “I can’t believe that you saw him,” the neighbor said to Mrs. Herbert. “Oh yes, he was definitely there,” Mrs. Herbert said. “It was no dream.” “I’m overjoyed,” was all the neighbor could say. That night, and for the rest of her stay at Vicarage Farm, Mrs. Herbert’s sleep was undisturbed. The little boy’s ghost was never seen again.