A L*«t1dl«r^N(West Liberty Scorclier.)Uv the road wde, on a high bankof tlio Licking* near tho northern boundary of West Liberty, is a lone grave, a little mde modnd, marked by nigged stones at head and foot, but no inscription to inform the passerby who sleers beneath. Here lies,awaiting the resurrection, the body ofMorris Haggerty, an Irish peddler, who was murdered in this country,in 1853. To some of our people whoseminds are imbued with BupcrstlUous notions this is a spot of particular in* treat. Uumors oi lights seen at night tliUing about the place, accompanied by R weird, spectral form that vanish ea In the air and strange voices, have invested it with all the dread phan-taaiea of a haunted place. Many and^strange are the stories told of sightsseen and noises beard about this place, and many an urchin sits atnicht wilh dilated eyes, quickened pulse,and ^'hair oneiur' aa lie listens to the stories told of the frightfulforms that caper at night about tiie grave of the murdered peddler. i Uidiculous and absurd as it umy appear, Histoid and believed that the mystic wanderer from that hiimDte grave entered the cottage homo of j I)r. Thornley, wlien he resided here, and hlched Ins knife from his panta*loons pocket and played havoc with his quecnware. It is reported thatthese stories recently prevented the consummation of a real estate tran^ac-tlou in that vicinity.