New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1881-03-09

Morning passed-and the noon SO stlll
Bathed in warm loneliness wood ard hill.
Slumbrous airs from the west vent by.
And the mother watched for her child to die
Afternoon came-and the maiden lay
Lifeless and sOulless-a mold of clayl
Rain came down as from eyes that wept:
Watching was over-the maiden slept.
Through the quiet falling of evening rain
The birds soft carol stole in again!
Then the mother said "'Tis message for mo
10 teal me, @, child, t!llt its we'll with tteev'
And the summer day ended, for ssiate or long,
Every day Weareth to eve;l-song."
Chambers Journal.
THE DUKES HOUSE,.
was born in an old chartered and
very picturesque town in Western
county, in whose vicinity stood an
ancient ducal palace, which had not
been occupied for many a long year;
and like other buildings left to decay, it
had the reputation Of being haunted.
There certainly were strange sights and
sounds to be seen and heard sometimes
by those who were near the place at
dusk and after dark; but it was never
looked into. The uneducated were too
superstitious and fri ghtened; the better
class were too busy or too indolent;
and we had no rural police in those
days to trace out the causes. It was q
great pity for such fine Elizabethan
structure to fall to ruin. l remember
it as a strong and beautiful mansion,
with its lawns and terrace-gardens, and
its many windows as there are days in a
year. This l doubted when a child,
and often got the nurse-girl to walk
round the house, to count them with
me; but we never attained our object;
for if the sun got overclouded, she
would be sure to see ghost at some
gloomy window, and rush off; leaving
me, terrified, to follow. The old resi-
dents had died out. the title having be-
come extinct; and around it were
sprung up mills and factories, which
prevented the aristocracy from living
in it. The mill-owners, too, preferred
being further away from their counting
houses and smoky chimneys. Besides,
it must have been very rich man who
could put it in decorative repair, and
keep up such an establishment. In
those days our merchant-princes were
content with very modest dwellings,
such as many middle class man now
adays would deem it derogatory to live
in. am writing of a slow and sure
age; we are now living in fast and
reckless one.
But to my story. I had attained an
age when ghosts or hobgoblins and
such like rubbish did not terrify or
trouble me. was a married man, the
father of several children, when a
cousin came to visit us, who was high
ly delig hted with our pretty town; and
knowing her to be very clever with her
pencil, asked her to paint me one or
two of the scenes in the neighborhood.
This she willingly consented to do, and
we sailed forth to fix on what should
be her first picture. She thought the
view from the Dukes House.-as it was
called-would be the best. 1 told her
she dared not trust herself in there, for
it had been uninhabited for the last
century, and was haunted. She
laughed, and said she did not believe
in ghosts; she was not 50 much fright
ened at the dead in solitary places as at
the living; and her curiosity being ex-
cited, she wanted to explore the old
building. So, whilst she went for her
easel and materials, / got the keys
from an old man who lived in the old
courtyard of the ducal residence.
We walked through the rooms. ad-
miring their old grandeur, the lofty
marble columns, standing on marble
hearths each side of the fireplaces, sup
porting the groined ceilings, with coats
of arms and other devices carved in
marble between them. The tapestry
round the walls smelled moldy, but
was in a wonderful state of preserva-
ton, and no worse than when q bow.
twenty years before, I had pitied the
ladies who worked so hard to cover
their rough stone walls. My cousin
selected room for her first sketch;
and as l was leaving, 1 advised her to
lock the door after me, to guard against
intrusion; but she objected to this, say
ing she never locked herself in any
room for fear of sudden illness; but if I
would lock the door on the outside,
and call for her as I came from the
bank, she would be much happier to
know she was secure from interruption.
After some hesitation, consented to
do this, and with the key in my pocket,
went to business.
1t was just closing time, and I was
locking up the strong-room, when the
manager drew my attention to mat
ter which involved protracted search
of papers-a search, however, which
happily proved successful. All other
thoughts having been driven from my
head by this unwonted piece of bust
ness, reached home, and as mechan-
ically took out my latch-key and went
into the house, still in reverie, was
met by my wife, who asked why was
so late for dinner, and where Mary was.
MARY" l exclaimed; IL forgot all
about her." and catching my hat off
the peg again, l rushed out, speeding
as fast as could to liberate her, and
bitterly lamenting my folly for locking
her in.
It was quite dark, when got there.
and I had no light; but I felt out the
keyhole, unlocked the door and tramped
loudly up the stairs. I called her. but
received no reply. Going into the room
in which had left her, gazed into
the recesses, and found her huddled up
in one corner
"Mary, my poor dear child,' I ex-
claimed. "will you ever forgive me?"
Hush, hush! for pity sake, hush"
she said in a whisper.
"Why did you not answer me when
I called you?" replied.
81 did not hear you until now. Oh,
I have seen such fearful sights!''
I felt her whole frame culver, and
then, as l was assisting her to rise, she
fell on me in fainting fit. T had no
light, not even fusee in my pocket,
and no one was within call. At length
l thought of the water she had for her
work; it might revive her if could find
it. I laid her down gently, and CROP
ing about for the water, sprinkled her
face, which had the effect of bringing
her round.
Hurriedly rising, she exclaimed: '.Oh,
come away. Take me out of this horrid
placer
I began to rally her about the
absurdjty of her fears. and her tell;np