The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-01-16


possible to determine whether it were
reality or only strange, wild dream.
am about to relate such an occur
renee in my own experience, and look
ing back along the dimness of twenty
years, find myself vainly endeavdring
TO fathom, vainly seeking to find some
clew by which l may determine if 1t was
a reality, or only a hallucination, so
nearly allied, so close kin to reality that
it must ever remain a mystery and
doubt. In vain have sought to unrav-
el the mystery. "There is limit to hu-
man investigation, as there is to human
ambition"
And here / wish to remark, there are
many things that we turn from with
sneer, because we do not understand
them. Is this right? Is it just? Inthe
experience am about TO relate, no
doubt, many will say l was either drunk
or diseased. ,ras neither. | was as So
Der and az sane as ! have ever been in
nv life. | had retired for the night
in my room all was still-outside, the
wind moaned through the tree-tops with
that weird. sornd Shaf we listen to with
a strange mipgling of pleasure and ter
ror.
The fire had died out on the hearth,
and objects in the room became indis-
tinct By the faint light that struggled
through the thickly shaded windows.
The strangest part of my story is that
| do not.believe / slept, for l was con-
scious all through Of who was, urhere
was; and circumstances SO minute that
they would not have occurred to sleep
er in dreamland, were present to my
mind.
] cannot now recall at what hour of
the night 1t was, when / became-how,
know not--conscious that a presence
was near me; feeling that | cannot ac-
count for; did not see or hear anything
to make me believe that presence was
near me, yet I feh absolutely certain that
directly at the head of my bed. a terrible,
unknown shape was standing.
A strange, unaccountable dread, sort
Of immovable terror seized upon me. |
could not stir hand or foot; l could not
cry out, and waited with horrible
dread of what was TO follow. Then i
felt on my brow something like cold,
clammy hand, and then another.
A feeling of fear sank like aweight on
.,,aI, faaIs,,o Of cold ipv
terror as / hope never to feel again.
The clammy hands glided down over
my face, and then felt them close with
clutch like that Of death around my
throat.
A choking sensation came over me,
feeling that ] cannot describe, feeling
that must be felt to be known. If any of
you have ever had the gripe of your
deadliest enemy around your throat, you
may have conception of how felt in
that hour of agony, and yet it did not
seem as if the unknown presence in
tended to kill me, for the clutch grew
no tighter.
And now / heard low, half-smother-
ed breathing, and felt foul, fetid
breath op my cheek. All this time
was perfectly conscious of my surround
ings. 1 could see the windows, and the
white curtains that smothered the dim
light that struggled through them. /
could see nv bookcase, and all the oh
jects in the room that came within my
vision, without turning my head, for
that I could not.
/ remember thought it must be a
hallucination, perhaps fear; that must
distract my thoughts from my surround
ings, and so rid myself of this horrid
incubus thought of the new books
/ had read, Of the work had done and
must do, of my sweetheart, of the blue
eyes in whose clear depths I pictured to
myself the river Of happiness; thought
of that bird-like voice whose silvery tones
held all the music cared for on earth.
In vain.
still felt that demon clutch, that foul
breath. At length I made sudden eff
fort, and twisted my head back on the
pillow, and then beheld what, if live
a thousand years, can never forget.
There are things so beautiful that nc
language can describe them, and in con
trast there are things SO terribly often
sive that language equally fails to por
tray them. 1 feel have not powers o
description to bring to your view the de
moniac face now looked upon with ;
fearful fascination.
Years ago, when child, visiting a
the house of a distant relative, crawle'
up into an old disued room, filed witt
cast-away articles of every description
covered with cobwebs and dust, the ac
cumulation of years.
On the walls of this room / found
dust-covered painting, the frame c
which was half eaten by worms.
Brushing the dust from the face of tn
picture, started back in terror; befor
me was one of those strange production
of evidently some German artist.
1t was only face, but ,chat fas'
Some God-abandoned wretch who stoo
on the crumbling edge of Hades, an
asw cleaning from far below the face {
some lost spirit, hopeless alike of Go
and mercy, could alone have painte
that picture.
Filled with childish terror, / crel
from the room, and told none what | ha
SEEN.
Such face was now glaring down u
ON mine; the same eyes with the glea
of another world in them; the low, dal
brow, and over it the tangled hair, loo
ing more like serpents than hair; Il
broad, fat nose;-but that which MAJ
that face more revolving was the dew
ish grin that parted the thick lips, d
playing the long, sharp, teeth-dirt
diseolored, and most fearfully loathsom
Altogether It was the most diabolic