The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1881-05-04

the snow was wildly beating. From be-
low the smothered sound Of voices came
when still with Busby's social dame.
Their guest sat by the fading fire and
watched its fleeting fame expire while
she listened, but no word they uttered
could be clearly heard but soon a recol-
lection came that sent shudder through
her frame-the sausage to be fried at
morn, the BREAKFAST table to adorn, was
In the bedroom where their guest would
soon betake himself to rest. The clock
struck ten, she softly said, "Ill get 1t
ere he goes to bed"
The spare bed stood within n room MS
hill and humid as tomb twas never
hired, twas seldom swept in its damp
corners spiders crept they built their
bridges through the air, and no rude
broom disturbed them there. The rain,
hat fell on roof decaycd, drippcd through
The chinks that time had made, and on
The w1litewashed walls ran down III won.
lrous frcscocs tingcd with brown; the
window-pancs, with frost o'crspread,
we're warmer than that 10y bed. Cold
was the mating on the floor; cold blew
the breeze beneath the door; cold wele
The straight backed chairs OF wood cold
was the oaken stand that stood on spind-
lung legs that looked as chill as lone bare
pines on some bleak hill high rose that
bed DER things below, like some tall ice
berg capped with snow. Here every
highly honored guest, when bedtime
came, retired to crest"
Within its large and moldy press hung
Mrs. Busby's best silk dress; her SUNDAY
bonnet, shoes, and shawl, on rusty nails
against the wall by Mr.. Busby's snit of
blue, that at Iris wedding had been new.
Here on peg his best cravat reposed
within his old fur hat; here, shut from
sight Of human eyes, were rows OF nance
and apple pies, with rolls Of sausage and
head cheese, stored on the shelves and
left to freeze.
From out her cot the maiden crept,
slipped on her shoes and softly stepped
along the hall ndthrough the gloom I'M
til she reached the chilly room. Unseen
she crossed the icy floor, unheard nm
locked the closet door, snatchcd from
the shelf in a firm hold, a bag of saus
age, stiff ana cold then turning quickly,
sought to beat sudden. safe, and sure
retreat. Too late A light cleaned on
the wall, and sound of footsteps filled
the hail. then to the room came boldly
on the stalwart form of Iittlciohn! She
backward stepped and stood aghast,
then closed the door and held it fast
With chattering teeth and trembling
frame across the floor Lycurgus came.
He placed the candle in his hand upon
the spindllng uakon stand. Then closed
the door, and, with frown, within n
cold chair settled down. He threw his
boots upon the floor, AMI, rising, tried
the closet door; but Aunt Rebccca, 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 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 "Aunt
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
through each quivering, narrow frame
OF frosty panes dim light came Tint
made the furniture appear like dusky
phantoms crouching near. Lycurgis
listened in the storm and Rugged his
brick to keep him warm, but colder
grew tho humid bed, the clothes con
gealed around his head: to feel at case 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, q strange SEN
sation seemed to creep upon him, while
across the floor he closely watched tho
closet-door
Was he but drcaming2 MOI his eyes
beheld, with wonder and surprise, what
man had never seen before-there was a
movement at the door II 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, 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 to
pray; upon his brow Of paid hue the
cold sweat stood like drops of dew: at
last he shrieked, aloud and shrill-the
door swung back and all was still.
That midnight cry, from room to
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" firew But
nnding neither smoke nor name, soon
stumbling up the stairs they came. In
cotton bedquilts quantity dressed, they
heard deep groan from their guest, and,
full of wonder and alright, pushed in
the door and struck light.
Deep down within the feather bed
Lycurgus had withdrawn his head, and,
out of sight, lay qunking there, with
throbbing breast and bristling hair.
They questioned him. but he was still:
ho shook ns il he had o chill, the cour-
age was completely gone from tall Ly-
curgus Littlejohn.
What human language can express,
the modest maiden's dire distress, while
standing still behind the screen, sad
spectator of the scene? What pen or
pencil can portray her mute despair and
deep dismay7 A while she stood, and
through the door she peeped across the
bedroom floor; the way was clear,
and like wise she.grasped the sausage,
cold as ice, sprang from the closet, and
from sight she glided like a CLEAN Of
light, away without look or word, she