Why is something creepy? What is it about dolls sometimes, that makes them so spine-tingling? In this case, what's not seen is the answer. This was the little girl's room in the superintendant's house, in the middle of a coal mine operation. The whole house was storybook...normal and domestic for the period in all detail..except right outside was an industrial wasteland, full of machinery and blackfaced men emerging from the bowels of the earth. Not where I'd want to play.
Below is the discovery of almost the same image I took years later, with no recollection of having taken the previous shot. It was in General Beauregard's mansion in New Orleans. See how the subconscious works?