The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1879-04-28

eBy my soul and hope of salvation" ejac-
ulated the Baron, sit is the year of grace
thirteen hundred. two and fifty"
There is evidently misunderstanding
somewhere" remarked the venerable strang-
er. 81 was born here in the year 1897, the
year the Turks invaded Europe"
mo Turk has invaded Europe, thanks be
| to Heaven" replied Old Twenty Fasks, re-
covering his self control. "You are either a
magician or au impostor. In either case
shall order you drawn and quartered as soon
as we have finished this bottle. Pray pro-
coed with your very interesting reminiscent
ces, and do not spare The wlDe."
81 never practice magic" quietly replied
the pilgrim, sand as to being an impostor,
scan well my face. Don't you recognize the
family nose, thick, short, and generously
colored? How about the three lateral and
| two diagonal wrinkles on my brow? / see
them there on yours. Are not nv chaps
Weinsten chaps? Look closely. l court
| Investigation"
"You do look damnably like us" the Bar
on admitted.
II was the youngest" the stranger went
on, "of quadruples. My three brothers were
puny, sickly things, and did pot long survive
their birth. AS a child was the idol OF my
poor father, who had some traits worthy of
respectful mention, guzzling old topper and
UNREASONABLE thief though he was"
The Baron WINGED.
They used to call him Old Twenty
Flasks. 1t is my candid opinion, based on
memory, that Old Forty Flasks would have
been nearer the truth"
s'It's liep' shouted the Baron. II rarely
exceeded twenty bottles"
"And as TOR his standing in the commune
| ty," the pilgrim went on without taking any
heed of the interruption, sit must be cen
fessed that nothing could be worse. He was
the terror of honest folk for miles around
Property rights were extremely insecure in
this neighborhood, for the rapacty of my la
mented parent knew no bounds. Yet no.
body dared TO complain aloud, for lives were
not much safer than sheep or ducats. bow
the people hated his shadow, and roundly
cursed him behind his back. 1 remember well
that when was about lit must have been
in '66. the year the Grand Turk occupied
AGrianOple-tall Hugo, the miller, called me
up to him, and said, Boy, thou hast right
pretty nose.' 1T is pretty nose Hugo said I
Strengthening up. is it on firm and strong ?'
'Firm enough, and strong enough dare say
| answered; but why ask such FOOLS ques-
ton9' well, well, boys" said Hugo, turn
ing away; look sharp with thine eyes after
thy nose when thy father is unoccupied, for
he has just the conscience to steal the nose
off his sons face in lack OF better pluDder.'"
"By st. Christopherv' roared the Baron,
''tal Hugo the miller, shall pay for this. I
always suspected him. By St. Christopher's
burden, II break every bone in his villain
Gus body"
"Twould be an ignoble vengeance" re-
piled the pilgrim quietly, "for tall Hugo has
been in his grave these sixty years."
"True," said the Baron rubbing both
hands to his head and gazing at his guest
with look of utter helplessness. ~ forgot
| that it is now next century-that is to say, il
you be not a spectre"
You will excuse me, my respected par
ent', returned the pilgrim, ''it I subject
| your hypothesis to the test of logic, for it
touches me upon very tender spot, impngn-
ing. as it does, my physical verify and my
status as an actual ineividualized Ego. Now,
what is our relative position? You acknoWl.
edge the date of my birth to have been the
year of grace 1852. That is matter in
| which your memory is not likely to be at
fault. On the other hand, with strange
| inconsistency, you maintain, in the face OF
| almanacs, chionolOgies and the march of
events, that it is still the year of grace 1862.
| Were you one OF the seven sleepers your hal
lucination Ito use no harsher name) might be
| pardoned, but you are neither sleeper nor
saint. Now every one of the eighty wears
that are packed away in the carpet bag OF
my experience, protests against your eqtraor.
binary error. 1t is who have prima facie
right to question your phosical existence, but
not you mine. Did you ever hear of a ghost,
spectre, wrath, apparition, eidolon, or a
| spook, coming out of the future to haunt,
annoy or brighten individuals of an eirlieTI
generation 2"
The Baron was obliged to admit that be
| never had.
"Bu9 you have heard of instances where
| apparitions' ghosts, spooks, call them what
| you will, have invaded the Present from out
the limbo of the Past?"
The Baron crossed hinselfa second time.
and peered anxioualy into the dark corners OF
the apartment. "If you are genuine Won
Weinstein,". he whispered, 'you already
know that this castle is Overrun with Spec
tres of that sort. 1t is difficult to move about
after nightfall without tumbling over half a
dozen OF them"
''Then," said the placid logician, s'you sur
render your case. You commit what, nv
revered preceptor in dialetics, the learned
Arabian, Ben Dusty, used to style syllogistic
suicide. For yon allow that, while ghosts
| out of the future are unheard of, ghosts from
the past are not unfreqaently encountered
| Now submit TO you as candid man this
| proposition: That it is infinitely more prob
| able that you are ghost than that 1 am
| onep'
| The Baron turned very red. "Is this fl
| ialr' he demanded, ''to deny the flesh and
| blood of your own father ?"
SIS it paternal," retoIted the pilgrim not
losing his composure, "to insinuate the uu-
realness of the son of your own begetting 2''
"By all the saintsv' growied the Baron,
| growing still redder, ''this question shall be
settled. and speedily. Halloo, there, Sene-
| schal!' he called again and again, but in
vain.
''Spare your lungs" calmly suggested the
| pilgrim. "The best trained domestic in the
| world will not stir from beneath the sod fol
| all your shouting"
Twenty FIasks sank back helplessly in his
chair. He tried tU sT eak, but his tongue and
throat repudiated their functions They only
gurgled.
That is right" said his guest approvngIy,
Conduct yourself as BELTS veneIab and
| respectable ghost from the last century. A
well behaved apparition neither busters DOL
is violent. You can well afford to be peace
| able in your department now; you were tur.
| bulent enough before your DEATH"
| my death" gasped the Baron.
Excuse me-" apologized the pilgrim "lor
referring to that unpleasant event."
my death!' stammered the Baron, his
hair standing on end, 81 should like to hear
the particulars
II was hardly more than Is at the time"
said the pilgrim musingly, 'but shall never
forget the most tr1ing circumstance of the
great popular uprising that put an end to nav
worthy sire's career. Exasperated beyond
endurance by your outrageous crimes, the
people for miles around at last rose in a BODY
and led by my old friend tall Hugo, the mil
Ter, focked TO Schwnkenfels and appealed to
your cousin, Count Conrad, for protection
against yourself, their natural protector. Won
Schwinkenfes heard their complaints with
great gravity. He replied that he had long
watched your abominable actions with dis
tress and CONSERVATION that he had frequent
ly demonstrated with you, but in vain that
he regarded you as the scourge of the neigh
borhood; that your castle was full of blood
stained treasure and and shamefully acquired
booty; and that he now regarded it as the
personal duty of himself, the conservator of
lawful order and good morals, to march
against Weinstein and exterminate YOU for
the common good"
"The hypocritcal piratep exclaimed
Twenty Flasks.
(Which be proceeded TO do" continued
the pilgrim, Supported not only by his re
tanners, but by your own. I must say that
you made sturdy defense. Had not YOUR
rascally Seneschal sold you to Schwinken fels