The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1881-03-31

boots upon the floor, and, rising, tried
the closet door; but Aunt Rebecca, in
alright, chung to the latch with all her
might. To look within Lycurgus failed.
he turned away and thought it nailed;
Then, pulling down the snowy spread,
he put his warm brick in the bed, took
off his clothes, and slipped between the
sheets of ice, SO white and clean, blew
out the light, and, with a sneeze, close
to his chin he brought his knees, be-
meath the clothes he drew his nose, and
tried in vain to find repose; while 'cAunt
Rebecca, " from the wall, took down the
Sunday gown and shawl, she wrapped
them round her freezing form, and
blushed, to keep her visage warm.
The paper curtains, loosely hung upon
the windows, rustling swung, while
of frosty panes a dim light came that
made the furniture appear like dusky
phantoms crouching hear. Lycurgus
listened in the storm and Rugged his
brick to keep him warm, but colder
grew the humid bed, the clothes con-
gealed around his head: to feel at ease in
vain he tried; he tossed and turned from
side to side; each time he moved, be-
meath his weight the bedstead creaked
like some farm-gate. His brick grew
cold, he could not sleep, 3 strange SEN
sation seemed to creep upon him, while
across'the floor he closely watched the
closet-door.
Was he but dreaming? No! his eyes
beheld, with wonder and surprise, what
man had never seen before-there was q
movement at the door. 1t slowly turned
and to his sight came, through the dim,
uncertain light a hideous hand, that in
its clasp some awful object seemed
to grasp, a crouching form; with fright
full head, seemed slowly coming towards
the bed. He heard the rusty hinges
creak, . he could not stir, he could
not speak, he could not turn his head
away; he shut his eyes and tried tc
pray; upon his brow of paid hue the
cold sweat stood like drops of dew; al
last he shrieked, aloud and shrill-the
door swung back and all was still.
That midnight cry, from room te
room, resounded loudly through the
gloom. The farmer and his wife at rest,
within their warm and cozy nest, awoke
and sprung, in strange attire, forth from
their bed loud shouting-''fre!" But
finding neither smoke nor flame, soon
stumbling up the stairs they came. In
cotton bedquilts quantity dressed, they
heard a deep groan from their guest, and
full of wonder and alright, pushed II
the door and struck a light.
Deep down within the feather bee
Lycurgus had withdrawn his head, and
out of sight, lay quaking there, will
throbbing breast and bristling hair
They questioned him, but he was still
he shock as if he had a chill, the com
age was completely gone from tall Ly
curgus Littlejohn.
What human language can express
the modest maideR's dire distress, while
standing still behind the screen, a sac
spectator of the scene? What pen Oh
pencil can portray her mute despair anG
deep dismay? A while she stood, anC
through the door she peeped across the
bedroom floor; the way was clear
and like q wise she grasped the sausage
cold as ice, sprang from the closet, ant
from sight she glided like a CLEAN o
light, away without a look Oh word, sh'
few like an affrighted bird; without
moment of delay, the mystery elearet
itself aacay!
Again the snow CLEANS on the ground
again the sleigh-bells gayly sound, agail
on "Miller's Hill" we hear the shouts O
children loud and clear; but in the barr
is heard no more the Tapping fail upo,
the floor. The house is down, its in
mates gone, and tall Lycurgus Little
John is 10 an old man. worn with care
with STOPPING form and silver hair. Fl
married dark-eyed Susan Stow, and the
were happy, years ago.
When, in the merry w~inter-time, the
children's children round him climb, b
tells them of his fearful fright, on thu
far distant winter night; and, after the
are put to bed, when by the fire wit
nodding head he sits and sinks to stun
bers deep, and quakes and shivers in b
sleep, alasi he is but dreaming still
that spare bed on "Miller's Hill
Eugene j. Hat, in Chicago Tribune.