I heard of a man in my neighbourhood who buried his wife. He was about to marry again and he used to go to Tarbert every night to meet the girl he was going to marry.
His eldest son aged twelve years heard it. This night he followed him to the house. He waited outside until he came out to come home. When his father came out his son asked him what was bringing him down here every night.
His father waited until he was up a bit the road to beat him. He then untackled his horse and was about to beat him with the strap of the tackling when the boy's dead mother stood in the boy's place.