One autumn day in approximately 1962/3, two friends and me were wandering around old Seacroft village. While walking past Taylors Yard, we noticed the garden around the old cottage was very overgrown and the apple trees were fully laden with fruit. We found the urge to sneak into the orchard and help ourselves too much to resist. While we were filling our jumpers, the front door to the cottage slowly opened. We crouched low and hid behind the trees trying not to make a sound. Two figures came out wearing top hats and tails from a bygone era, and carrying sticks. We were terrified, but as they drew closer, we realized that they were older lads we recognised as locals. They spotted us, came over and told us that the old man who lived there had died and no one was in the cottage. We cautiously entered it to investigate, and saw that it was full of antique furniture, books, ornaments and china. The fireplace was an old range with fire-blackened pots and pans; the furniture, as I now realise, was probably Victorian or Edwardian. At the time, we thought it was a load of old junk, but I look back now and think what a beautiful place it was. Sadly, to the best of my knowledge, it was never again lived in, and was later demolished to make way for new housing.