On Green Street stands the Crane house, built in 1801, still occupied by that family. The house preceding it, with a lean-to roof, was on the other side of the road; the well is all that remains. Henry Crane, Jr., appears to have received this large farm in 1707 in the same manner that Silas Crane received his,-by his marriage. He married Elizabeth Vose, daughter of Thomas and Waitstill, on Oct. 18, 1683. We bear nothing of him after 1733. His son William, the shoemaker or cordwainer, succeeded to this part of the estate, and with Abigail Puffer as a helpmate, lived near this spot. He was an active man in our early town life-Many of the deeds of that time were drawn by him. He was selectman during the years 1728-1731, 1734-1737,1739; town clerk, 1732,1737, 1739; and precinct clerk in 1736. He died on the 20th of July, 1742, and the pastor of the church asserts that "he was a good man, but of late months under much darkness and despondency." His wife died July 31, 1772. He had apple-trees enough to be dignified by the name of an orchard in 1738. After the death of William, his son Elihu, the father of General Nathan, occupied the homestead. He was a deacon of Dunbar's church. He was born July 26, 1710, and died Jan. 4, 1789. He it was of whom the following story is narrated:--

From the deep recesses of the forest which lay between the Packeen road and the Fowl meadows there was heard by the residents of that part of the town, about the year 1770, the sound of a voice, human, but at the same time so weird and melancholy in its tone that it sent a chill of horror through the listener. Henry Crane, Preserved Lyon, Joseph Aspinwall,--all described it as something between the wail of a woman and the cry of a catamount. Edward Downes and John Taunt and William Crane, 2d, spoke of it as the voice of a lost soul crying in the wilderness. Months rolled on, and still the sound proceeded from the watery marshes or the adjoining upland. Isaac Billings never pulled his boat across the ferry at the call of some belated traveler but what this unearthly sound caused him to ply his oars with redoubled vigor. What was to be done no one knew. Finally it was suggested that Deacon Elihu Crane could exorcise or dispel the troublesome Packeen ghost. The deacon was applied to, and after much persuasion and diligent prayer betook himself at midnight and alone to a lonesome and unfrequented part of the woods where his ghostship was supposed to make his headquarters. The deacon had a wonderfully powerful voice, and he poured it forth, so that the residents of Tiot (Norwood) or Clapboardtrees (Westwood) could have heard it had they been out that night. "I know," said he, "O unknown one, that thou art neither flesh and blood nor mortal in anyway or shape. I pray thee no longer leave the pale realms of shade to haunt the regions of this earth. Leave, then, the Fowl meadows, and return to the place whence thou comest." This was sufficient. It is needless to say there was no more trouble from the Packeen ghost.