The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1869-07-15
Gales, Sktttbes, 5nstNotes, 1T.
THE UNSPOKEN WARNING.

nm no believer in the supernatural. l
never saw any ghosts, never heard any
strange noises-noue, at least, tha. could
not be accounted for on natural principles,
never heard sounds around the bed or heard
knocks on the head-boaTd which proved TO
be ''foFerunners" of sickness or death. l
never had even dreams come to pass, and as
20 spirits. in the common acceptance of the
term since the days of the Fox girls, nv
presence has always been damper.
am not one of the sort who are always
on the lookout for signs and wonders, and if
want of faith in spiritualism or supernatural
lam is a sin, 1 ought to have been the last
one to look for so marked a-you may name
1t what you please, call it divine interpo-
sition-as the one l am about to relate, all
the witnesses TO which, and they are not few.
are still living.
One bitter cold day in winter merry par
ty OF US. nestled down under furry robes,
went to meet an appointment with friend
living few miles distant. with whom we
! were to speEd the afternoon and in the even
! ing attend a concert to be held near by.
! The sleighing was delightful, the air keen
and inspiring, the host and hostess genial az
| the cracking fires in the CRATES, and the in
Vitsd guests, of whom there were many be-
sides ourselves, IN that peculiar visiting trim
which only o!d time friends, long parted. can
enjoy. Restraint was thrown aside: we
cracked jokes, we chatted like nagpies, and
talked little of the coming concert, which
promised rare treat to our unsophisticated
ears. All went merry as a marriage bell,
eDd merrier than some, until just before tea,
when was seized with a sudden aud unac-
counta bic desire to go home, accompanied
by dread or fear of something, knew not
what, which made the return appear, not q
matter of choice, but thing imperative.
tried TO reason it away, to revive antici-
pations of the concert thought of the dis
appointment it would be to those who had
come with me to give it up, and running
over IN my mind the condition in which
things were left at home, could find no
ground for alarm.
For many years part of the house had
been rented to a trusty family; our children
were often rocked in the same cradle. and
half the time ate at the same table; locks
and bolts were things unused. and in deed
as in word we were neighbors. In their care
had been left boy of ten years, the only
one of the family remaining at home, who
knew that when he returned from school he
was expected to bring in wood and kiudIings
for the morning fire, take his supper alone or
with little Clara E, as he chose. and
otherwise pass the time as he pleased, only
he must not go in the street to play or ON the
pond to skate. He had been left many times
in this way, and had never given occasion
for the slightest uneasiness still, as this
nameless fear grew upon me, it took the
form of conviction that danger of some
sort threatened this beloved child.
] was rising to go and ask Mr.. A.
to take me home, when some one said, '.You
are very pale; are you ill2"
"No," l answered, and, dropping back in
the chair. told them how strangely had
been exercised for the last few minutes, add
ing. 81 really must go honne."
There was perfect chorus of voices against
it, and for little time l was silenced though
not convinced. Some one laid the matter
before Mr.. A., who replied:
Nonsense, Eddie is a good boy to mind
he will do nothing in our absence that he
would not do If we were there, and is enjoy
ing himself well ct this moment, I'n war
rant"
This answer was brought to me in tri.
umph, and l resolved to do as they said,
mot think about It." But at tea my hand
almost refused to carry food to my lips, and
/ found it utterly impossible to swallow 9
mouthful. A deathlike chilli crept over me
and L knew that every eye was upon me a:
left the room. Mr.. A. rose, saying in g
changed voice and without ceremony: