St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1868-04-10

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brated Implement Act. | had that day
quaffed enough brandy to have set Il
dozen men mad or helpless it only left
me cool and calm. The hall was crowd
ed when we appeared on the platform
Andrew and ; but among the thousand
peering faces | recognized hers, pale and
anxious. She had never liked this knife
throwing scheme, and she was right, but
| had overruled Andrew. Perhaps her
womanly instinct had foreSecn the dan
ger of her husband She was now to
test the truth Of that instinct. We went
through the preparatory performances
few tricks, simple enough to US, but
curious and attractive to the multitude.
The applause was yet ringing in our ears
when | took one of the knives and flung
it so that it entered the partition at
which my brother had - place himself.
| lie adjusted his neck on one side OF the
weapon. threw another, which quiv-
cred i'll the wood, on the other side of
his neck, holding his head rs in 4 vice.
Andrew extended his hand against the
board, and quickly as can narrate the
act, | hurled knife after knife 80 that
each one struck in the wood between his
fingers. The hall rcsounded with plaud-
its as | poised the last knife in my hand.
Through all the fierce excitement
which had sustained me for the last throw
| had lost nothing of my steadiness Of
aim. If had grown less steady now, if
| had wanted guiding-mark to leave
the last knife buried in his throat, even
then the Devil would not have failed me.
y tiy-It was summer - settled on his
windpipc, 50 lightly that he did not seem
TO feel it. 1t was 81 mark to aim ut. |
gave one look at his wife, radiant and
trustful now i'll the seats before me in a
moment all the rage, hatred, jealousy,
and madness, which had made my life
hell for the year past, rose in my throat.
and almost blinded my eyes but | hurl-
ed the knife swiftly and truly through
the air, and it quiverci through the cen
tire of his neck, tranSiixing him TO the
board behind him. The blood >purtcd
out in a tOrrcnt-it filled the air with
Iurid red. The audicncc yave one cry
of ho-ror-a cry echoed 10y me, and then
hatred, malice, and gratitird revenge
chokcd and stihed me, and icll scn>clrss
to the ground.
What followed | know not Since
then have wandered through the earth,
restless. haunted fugitive. | have
travelled through arid deserts, parchcd
by relentless thirst have toiled through
| lonely tracks of ice in the frozen north.
deserted by all save the vcngrtul spirit
| that never. never leaves me-thc shade
of my murdered brothcr In the ex-
trcmitics OF heat and cold, in poverty.
,uh ing, and t..l that brings no recon-
pensc. and pain that leaves no rcpose, he
l. always with me IIurrying througI.
miles on miles behind swift engines.
speeding through wastes of water ON the
ships, cannot leave him behind.
have sought death. but the spirit will not
let me die. but rcScurS me Il hundred
times from suicide, and whispers, Not
vet lie l. relentless. and the wound
in his throat l. rel. and the color of the
blood i visible, even in the deepest night.
After roaming through all the earth,
and flying, cannot -ay whence and
whittier, | find myself in 4 hospital.
They tell me-doubiIesS in pity FOR what
| have injured. and striving to cheat me
to happiness with lc-that am mis-
taken; that | never killed my brother ;
that us | held the last knife poised in my
grasp, suddenly cried out. swooncd,
and tell.
The doctor who takes down this con-
tcssion smiles sadly. shakes hi> head, anc
muttcrs something about an overwrought
system and brain fever lie say shal
see my brother Andrew and Mary, an,
convince myself, But he lies. | vii
never, If flight can aid me, see Mary
again. From my brothers spirit
know there Is neither comfort nor re
lease; for though do not see it now, il
will return.