Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-06-30

| Ground the old fashioned, quaint abode,
Deep silence reigned, save when gust
Went rushing down the country road,
And skeletons Of leaves and dust,
A moment quckened by its breath,
| shuddered and danced their dance Of death"
Did you ever see the picture of the
Haunted House7 1t is the work of young
artist in Philadelphia, who Wrought, and
suffered and died." His story is a sad one.
The picture is strange, full of sombre shad-
ows and white lights, suggesting weird
fancies. There are sloping roofs and tall
chmneys, and narrow lattices. The moon
light quivers on the stone steps, on the mo-
tionless statues, and on the plashing water
OF the fountain, spilling itself from tho
moss-ruined basin. In the great stone
archway the iron gale stands half open,
and, surrounding all, barring the way,
choking the paths, dark shrubbery and
long punches of grass grow wild in rank
luxuriance. 1 say grow, because IL Is all
so vividly portrayed, that in gazing upon
the picture, one feels as though standing
amid those solemn shadows-living in that
profound silence.
"What has the picture to do with the sto-
ry you promisedH"
Wait, and will tell you. In the house
whose picture is before you, lived Hans
| Nicklemann, captain Of Dutch trading
schooner. Seeking here harbor from the
turmoil OF the world, he dwelt in tranquil
retirement; with no sterner reminder of
| lifes brief passage than the swi1 stream
babbling below the hill; with no harsher
sound than the songs of neighboring BIRDS.
| His one companion was Bertha, his only
child, the beloved of his heart. Guiding
his slower steps through garden and glen.
bounded the light feet of his darling
| Through the long corridors and down the
broad stairs, rang the sweet tones OF her
voice, filing his life with melody, and
bringing back TO his memory one who had
gone before him into the unknown land.
In the days of which / write, years and
years ago, the weeds did not grow in the
crevices of the dark walls and the stone
steps. Happiness reigned supreme; the
joyous sunlight flooded the garden walks
aud decke the trees with gold. With the
advance of time the little girl grew into
maidenhood. Her shining hair took dark
er tinge Of brown; into her eyes came an
earnest look, while the whole expression of
her face deepened into thought aud feeling.
Each day, when she had fulfilled her self
imposed household duties, Bertha would
join her father in his walk. Sometimes she
sang 10 him as he sat, smoking his pipe,
under the empowering vines.
Once, sitting thus beneath an overshad-
owing linden tree, the gate was thrown
open, and young man advanced toward
them through the broad walk. Rising, the
ancient host saluted the stranger in rough,
yet genial style. Bertha gave her welcome
in softer tones, with simple grace. The
hour of dinner being near, with but slight
persuasion the guest, Frederick Won Nacht,
accepted the invitation to remain. When
the shades of night gathered, be departed.
Amer this, he oflen returned. II is no Diff
cult task to win an uuguarded and untu-
tored heart, and this Frederick soon found,
in his walks and talks with Bertha. He
was a professor of music, and from the
magic of his touch rose the divine crea-
tions of the grand masters, soaring in soul
thrilling harmony, or sinking into fearful
strains, that would suf fuse the heart of Ber-
tha with the delirious melody Of love.
Music lessons proved a pleasant task to the
giver and receiver.
Then, one night, in the Straight, Frede-
rick told Bertha of his love for her. She
must be his wife, aud they would go to-
gether TO Germany, where his mother and
sisters lived, who would love her with an
imperishable love.
"But Frederick, / cannot CO." said Ber-
tina. "My father would die If l left him.
am all in the world 10 him. We can stay
always with him We need not to go.'
For the first time to Bertha's gaze,
frown darked the brow of her lover.
"If you love me, ycu will not hesitate
between the two," he said "your father
will be second in your heart and shall be
first"
"Yet l cannot leave him, Frederick.
Why need it he so? My father can keep
us both, and we shall be more happy to-
gether."
"Is your father, then, so wealthy. Ber-
thar"
"oh, yes" she replied, with light laugh
she has not been making cruises forty years
for nothing"
"Anu now has he made his VIII, dear
child?"
The tears came to Bertha's eyes, as she
answered:
"The thought MAKES me sad for know
that when his will is put into execution, he
will be dead. He has shown it TO me in
it's yellow cover. He keeps it in the little
casket by his bed; for no one, he says,
would suspect that it contained so great
treasure-'the key TO my wealth. he calls
II. Why should care for his will? He
gives me all want. He lets me open the
money-chest and help myself He lets me
bury my hands in the yellow gold up TO
my wrists" she said, holding up, as she
spoke, her slender white hands to view.
"Berlha Berthap called the old man,
from the head of the stairs.
Bertha rose, and hurried away TO her fa-
ther. When she returned, the cloud had
disappeared from Frederick's face, and the
two walked hand in hand to the gateway.
Frederick kissed her more tenderly than
was his custom, as he babe her good night.
Closing the gate, Bertha bolted it and ran
through alternate light aud shade into the
house.
Just as the gray light of dawn broke over
the garden and came stealing into the lat
lice of Berthas chamber, she was startled
from her sleep by low cry, and, following
it, dull sound, as of body falling heavi-