The Osceola times., 1875-12-11

4
looked into the big oven that l die
not see the form of John Huss ant
other martyrs burning at the stake
and with eyes directed upward towart
heaven uttering last earnest prayer
| could see creeping things and Lilipu
tian serpents winding their loathsomt
bodies in and out of the fringed SCOT
which lined the back of the fire place
and criminals dangling from the tram
incl; | heard the dishes rafting in the
closets; dogs bowling outside in the
darkness the wind whistling with al
most human voice; and footsteps and
silk drssses rustling on the staircase
If went up into the attic where there
were old files of papers printed in Yar
times and yellow with age, and the
military clothing riddled by moths, and
leathern hats with the letter of the com
pany upon brass plate in front, and
the rusty arms of members of our fam
lily who had fought in the war of the
Revolution and of 1912, / would hurry
down, pale with fright, for ] thought /
had seen the bodies of wounded soldiers
writhing in agony. and their bleeding,
ghastly heads beneath their hats, wink.
ing their eyes and protruding their
tongues, and their pale fingers upon
the old flintlock.
My uncle had been in the asylum
two years, and had not in the least
improved. This was the period of
venesection, the straight, jacket, the
brute force, and the golden age of
psychological medicine had not yet
dawned. He was treated like a Grim
inal, and when grandmother, who was
a frequent visitor, expostulated "a with
the keepers, she was warned as she val
ued the life of her son, not to NEEDLE
with the sanitary regulations of the
hospital. She always persisted in her
prophecy that Uncle Georges life
would end tragisally, and seemed to
hold "A Pythagorean doctrine that his
own sweet spirit had long ago departed
in peace, and that the body was now
possessed of a demon.
One gloomy night in December, the
whole family were assembled in the
sitting room, where cheerful camel
coal fire, which had been blazing and
sputtering in the CRATE, was now low
and dying away for it was almost time
to retire. Grandfather, whose locks
now glistened with premature age, was
sitting at the table, reading that solemn
passage from the Scripture "Thc first
day of the week cometh Mary Magda-
lene early, when 1t was not dark, under
the sepulchre, andseeth the stone taken
away from the sepulchre.
Grandmother had her knitting work
in her hands, but was nodding to sleep.
Auntie had just concluded translation
from the German of the "W eaver and
Death" wherein ii was related among
other things, how death placed a candle
of definite length into candlestick at
the birth of each of us, and how each
must die exactly at the moment when
his candle burned down.
The night was stormy; rain was fall
ling in torrents and dashing furiously
against the window panes. Occasion
ally vivid flash of lightning occurred,
followed by a terrible report ofthunder;
the winds whistled and dogs were bark
ing as never before.
Suddenly we were startled by n
heavy blow against the front door. My
grandfather dropped the Bible, the
women shrieked, and ! was struck
dumb and trembling from head to foot.
We opened the door leading to the
hall. The front door, massive oaken
door, and two or three inches thick,
stood wide open. The thick, iron bolt
was torn from its fastenings. Outside
was pitch dark. Not soul could he
seen. But sounds could be heard pro-
ceeding from the first rest on the stair
way, like some one sobbmg, succeeded
by yheavy convulsive breathing and sigh
ing. This in turn gradually subsided
into a scarcely audible, irregular
breathing, and gasping, and finally
died away, and all inside was as silent
and as solemn as the tomb. There was
no more thunder to be heard, but now
and then an angry flash Of lightning
lighted up the hall and stairway, but
still no one could be seen.
We brought a lamp, and my grand
father, who was not at all constitution
ally superstitious, uttered a prayer,
and pale as death ascended the stairs
There was no one there where the
sounds had been so distinctly heard but
a brief moment before. He decended
and examined the door, and we all saw
the printsa a mans hands, and indent-
ations of knuckles in the solid wood.
We looked again into the street and
saw only the watchman sauntcring
leisurely by, wrapped in his surtout.
We searched the house from cellar to
garrct, and the neighbors were called
in to assist in the search, but we could
obtain no clue to the awful mystery.
We retired at last, toward morning,
and 1t was not surprising tina; | insisted
upon having the light remain burning
in my room.
From that day to this the secret OF
this frightful incident remains undis-
covered. Suffice it to say that on the
very night, at the self-same hour, my
uncle George died from violence nj the