Free The Haunting of Toby Jugg by Dennis Wheatley

multitude of absurd taboos and superstitions.
    Newcomers who had already received a certain amount of religious instruction were referred to pityingly as ‘poor little savages’ and soon laughed out of their beliefs. In order to encourage them in developing a contempt for the symbol before which the ignorant masses still bowed down all the doormats had a crucifix woven into them, so that we all trod on it every time we went in or out.
    I need scarcely add that there was no prohibition on our swearing and blaspheming to our hearts’ content, and the obscenities which used to issue from the mouths of some of the smaller children were, at times, remarkable; but most of them soon grew out of that, and I don’t think the older pupils were any more foul-mouthed than their contemporaries at other schools.
    Naturally there were no exams or end-of-term reports at Weylands, as the theory was that we were there to develop our individualities, not our brains. Nevertheless, the staff had its own methods of interesting us in all the essential subjects and it was rare for anyone to leave without having absorbed the rudiments of a fair, general education. Moreover, in those who possessed an instinctive thirst for knowledge the theory of non-compulsion and a free choice of subjects worked wonders. Many of them left equipped far in advance of their age on their special lines, and have since become noted intellectuals.
    Looking back on the way we were allowed to behave—shouting, blaspheming, throwing things about, teaching the girls tricks or being taught by them, lazing away mornings in bed and taking afternoons off to go birds’-nesting—it now seems almost incredible that an English school should have been conducted on such lines. But it was; and such is the adaptability of children that, after we had been there a few weeks, none of us thought it the least strange.
    On the contrary, we thanked our Stars—not God—that our parents were sufficiently enlightened to choose such a school for us. We took pride in the fact that we were not like the miserable, ignorant, backward children that we met in the holidays, but arace apart, who had sloughed off all silly superstitions, were troubled by no stupid inhibitions about sex and, while still in our teens, were the masters of our fate, like grown-up men and women.
    I see now that I have rambled on over several sheets about Weylands, which was certainly not my intention. I really started out only to make it clear that at a school run on those lines there was nothing at all to prevent my spending a night out if I wished. The chaps and girls often used to go out on moonlight picnics and not return till the small hours of the morning; so I did not even think twice about it when it occurred to me that it would be rather fun to spend the night with Uncle Paul and Julia.
    I see that it’s later than I thought. I must leave it till tomorrow to record the damnably unnerving experience I met with on my way over to them.

Sunday, 10th May
    We do not go in for Sunday services here at Llanferdrack, any more than they did at Weylands; and for the first time in my life I am inclined to wish that we did. The fact that I was brought up to despise all organised religion has never before caused me any regret; but, in view of my recent nightmares—the term will serve although I’d give a packet to be able to think they are really only that—I believe I should derive quite a lot of comfort from hearing the swell of a church organ and the murmur of voices joined in prayer.
    The Church has lost nearly all her temporal power and most of her ancient wisdom, yet she still remains the only avowed champion in arms against the Devil. Probably her loss of vitality can be accounted for by the fact that comparatively few of her ministers seem to believe in the Devil these days, so they don’t give their energies to fighting him any more. But the principles she represents remain unaltered, so anyone who seeks