Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1869-03-05
5eIetteo Mltstellanp.
THE ALCHEMIST.
BY ABBY SAGE.

--'' ar one end OF a large room, so Old and
~ddsty that it looked as if~ages had passed
q. since the ~ponderous brown rafters IN the
ceiling were first fixed. in their places, q
huge Gre roared with a.hollow sound in q
= brick furnace. Over~this, furnace sat a
deep brazen cauldron, filed with boiling
liquor, which looked like molten gold, on
whose surface and brim danced blush,
lambent flames An old man, with stream
:. ing white hairs, bent over the cauldron.
His figure was crooked and deformed with
age and continued stooring, and his hair
and long, silYery beard were dry aud
crisp, as If they were singed in the fierce
heat in which he worked This old man
was Peter Althausen, who was working
night and day, and had been working
night and day for fifty years, to find the
Elixir Of Life,-that wonderful liquor
which would make youth immortal and
keep Ghe body always vigorous and
fresh.
ie'i1 ON this day the old Alchemist was
wondrously happy. Never had the fire in
the furnace roared so deeply. Never had
the mixture in the cauldron borne such
bright, changeful bubbles on its surface.
q Peter watched it with the fierce glow
from the fire reflected in his eyes, At
length he cried, i.1. o-tm
tAt IHeTe a lS OHly Oho CutbS wanting
now. The Elixir is nearly perfect. 1t
needs only a portion of life blood from
young veines" a%
AS he said this he looked wistfully at his
barred arms, but the sight of the flaccid
flesh and wasted veins made him shake
his head despondingly After moments
pause, he went to a staircase which as
Cended from one corner of the room, and
called in q shrill, tremulous voice, Made
laine Madelaine p
e A light foot was heard upon the stairs in
answer to his call, and Peter Althausen's
youngest daughter. the only remaining
child of his old age, came slowly down into
the laboratory.
81 "Didst call me, tather?" she asked
softly. aG..aa u.a..s@ $500
aa All Peter Althausen's family wore the
traces of subdued grief on their faces.
They had waited so long for the liquid
which was to give them immortal youth
that their youth and prime had wasted in
the slow fever of anxious expectancy.
Their voices were low and mournful, they
stepped slowly and irresolutely, as if all
the freshness and buoyancy life were de-
ferred for them, and they were waiting in
patient quiet till it came.
Madelaine paused and repeated, "Didst
thou call me, father"
GAY, my child" said the old man, look
ing up from his task of stirring the mix
ture in the cauldron; the potent liquor
is nearly completed. 1t lacks only little
blood. from younger and fresher veins
than mine. Hast courage to bare thine
arm to me /? Think, child, the Elixir that
is to make us all immortal"
The young girl smiled little--a sort OF
sad, weary smile, and asked, els it well
to live always, father? l feel sometimes
tired-so tired! Perhaps we might some
times be glad to die"
"Nonsense, child p said he, impatiently
"I am fourscore and five years, and I am
most eager to live. To the young death is
! far OFF: they do not fear it. But decide
quickly. See the liquor foams higher
and higher"
.T The girl barred her white, thin arm, and
Peter pierced a vein with a sharp lancet
The blood trickled in a tiny stream into q
silver bowl which he held close to the
wound. When it was half full he bound
her arm up hurriedly, and did not notice
that she had tainted in the chair where she
had seated herself ~ -
1 The mixture in the furnace en-
crossed all his senses. 1t was grow,
ing more and more brilliant, and the glow
ing bubbles rose higher and higher
till they ovcrflowed the cauldrons brin
and were devoured by the leaping flames
beneath. Peter emptied slowly, drop aftel
drop, the contents of the bowl in the boil
ing MACS. nt9 Hla -
&. Then, from out the cauldron and en-
circling it, vapor began to rise: vapol
which grew larger and denser, till a.
length it touched the ceiling like flame
{ colored cloud. The cloud began gradually
to change in form and shape itself, till
while the old man looked, the cloudy mas
put on the semblance of gigantic human
form. Though it was like the figure of
mar, it was still the color of fire. Th'
streaming hair and beard were like lick
ing tongues of flame. The eyes wer'
glowing Goals, and the robe which swep
about this wondrous image from the head
and throat, and shoulders, to the cauldron'
brim whereon its feet were set, fell il
quiYering folds like sheets Of glittering
yellow flame.
Peter covered before the presence, bu
did not speak. The spirit did not wal
for him, but spoke in deep, mutterint