Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-01-16
Gales ano Sketfbrs.
IN THE SHADOW OF A CURSE.
BY AusBuR TowNER.

new nome, ants L saw MIN every uaN tntrf-
after. all through the summer months.
Sometimes he had the shutters of the front
of the house opened and was washing the
windows with garden pump; the doors
and windows of the rear of the house were
opened. and he was seen there. sweeping,
perhaps. or busting, and once he was sew
ing upon one Of the kitchen window-cur.
tains that had been torn. Then he had the
barn all thrown open. or he was cutting the
grass on the lawn or trimming the vines OF
the trees.
The glimpse that had showed me that
the house was sumptuousiy furnished
there was carriage of unquestionable ele-
gance standing in the barn. and the sheen
of silver and glass in the dining-room, and
of cooking utensils in the kitchen, bespoke
the owners wealth.
He seemed to be a very old man. ill-clad
and moving slowly. but without pain.
As he looked up at me when passed,
there was wistful, waiting expression on
his face. as though he was expecting some
thing that he nevertheless knew could new
er be.
One morning he was sweeping the stone
walk from the front porch toward the street
as | went by He looked up, and his eyes
met mine fully. Istopped and asked;
$50 they are coming soon, are they?'
He leaned both hands on the broom. and
although his eyes were bent upon my face,
he was looking away beyond me.
"Whop" he presently replied.
His question, which was an answer to
mine; was so unexpected that / hesitated
before | said, rather deprecatingly:
'Whv. the family that live here in this
beautiful house."
Family. Coming! What familyP" he
stammered. They are always coming.
They come in troops-loads of them, car
rage loads-and then--'
lie stopped abruptly, and his vacant look
in the distance gave place to one that
he had been saying.
mo one is coming that know Of" he
then said. quickly. II don't expect any
body" he added.
Then he turned to his broom and con-
tinued with his work.
Whenever passed that house, the old
man was busy at some employment that
tended to brighten and improve the prem
Uses. But he was always alone. ! never
saw with him or near him living object.
Again, after few days, spoke to him.
.'Do you live here alone?"
He caught at his breath as finished my
question. an expression almost Of terror
darkened his face. and he plainly shud-
dered. He jerked his thumb toward the
house, and answered:
God forbid!''
Then he turned his back to me and looked
the building over, from the underpinning
to the roof, that made a jagged and un-
even skyline above him, and he added,
with long breath, not unlike a sigh:
Live here? God forbid! No one lives
herer''
Yet my sense of sight told me how hab-
table it was. Where were its owners
Why did they not take possession and en-
joy what surely might yield so much en-
joymentp
Ny calling occasionally kept me out
very late at night, and one evening, as
passed corner near hotel of low repute,
saw q police officer pushing with his foot
against ragged, miserable wretch sitting
on the curbstone. his arms hanging loose
over his legs, and his head sunk between
his knees.
turned back after had gone a few feet
UCyOIiu ticIu HC HupDCucu W Dc
one whom well knew, and asked him
who it was.
''Only old Jep drunk again." was the
reply.
must have looked an enquiry, for the
officer added Immediately, in an explana-
tory way:
HE takes care of the Chippendals
House,
said, and was entirely unselfsh in
my desire
Leave him to me. | will take the
poor old fellow home, and will be answer
able that he shall make no disturbance. /"
The police officer moved on. shook
the old man heartily, and spoke in loud
tone bidding him to get up and walk home
with me. Whether it was the shaking or
the tones in which accosted him, can
not say, but presently he aroused himself,
and with an effort, and looked into my
face. upon which the full moon was shin
ing.
'Oh - he muttered, with the information
of man whose eyes confirmed conject-
ure he had made. Then i'm little while
he added, Home? Yes. Home and not
a cell" He heard the footsteps of the
officer and looked toward him going from
us. "Home and not a cell" he repeated
''Let me have your ARM
assisted him to rise and he stood by
my side, not entirely stripped by his drunk
enness of the dignity of old age.
We moved slowly, and not word
passed between us in the long walk to his
home. He gave me his key, and opened
the door and let him in. He lived alone
Standing ON the threshold, unsteadily
holding himself up by grasping the door
post with his left hand. he put out his right
toward me and took mine within it, He
said in tremulous voice:
Thank YOU
My face this time was in the shadow
his in the full glare of the moon. saw
that he was weeping. Was it the mystic
influence of the moon that made his face.
with the white hair surrounding it like
halo, strangely dignified and impressive ?
Involuntarily came the thought-this must
have been noticeably engaging young
man in his youth.
Dropping my hand and half-turning
from me, he said piteously:
II cannot help it. ] cannot help it,
He waved his hand in token of good
night, and took my way to my home.
1t may have been that hoped it, but the
next morning he seemed to be on the look