The mystery in the attic.(short story)

Staring at the ancient three-story house, I'd have changed places with just about anybody. It had small towers and bay windows and carvings as fancy as those upon a fairy-tale castle. It had a sundial at single end of the garden and a fish pond at the other. Inside, we discovered that it also had peeling paint, mildew-stained walls, and a shortage of bathrooms.

"I have affection for it," Mom said.

"I hate it," I said at the same instant.

Dad cleared his throat. "It was built almost a hundred ago. It'll be beneficial for another hundred years when a not many repairs are ...