The Worthington advance., 1882-02-02


When to me-'tis to me she's engaged!
The Waxen Head-A Study OF Madness.
From the San Francisco Argonaut
Yes, killed him.
But why? you ask. All, that is the ques-
tion. The judge, the lawyers, and the jury
cannot toll. They have ascribed all man
ner of motives to me. They have said that
I have been brutal and cold -blooded from
my birth-a moral monster. Wrong-I am
gentle almost to timidity. They have said
that there was a woman in the case,
Wrong-1 scarcely knew the man. and
knew no woman whom he knew. Nv ad-
vocate has said that am mad, and that
the waxen head reminded me of some vom
an whom had loved. Wrong-I never
loved but one, and she was dark.
The head, you will notice, is that of
blonde.
Yes, killed him, and for what you will
think a trife-because he refused to re-
move waxen image from the window of
his hair dressing shop.
Odd. WAS it notY
Let me tell you my story. l was poor
miserably, wretchedly poor. had come
to the great city, as come so many men, in
search Of employment. Anything, whether
hand-work or brain work, would I wiling
~ have done. But work could not get.
The first day went to seventeen places.
They were sorry there was no opening:
possibly there migh be; would cali again?
and was politely ushered out.
waited. called again. was again
rebuffed-a little less politely than before
went to other places. The same expert
ence. In all that great city there seemed
no work for me to do.
I wss gradually spending the small stock
of money had brought with me-all had
in the world. Finally it was gone,
pawnea what few articles of jewelry had,
and continued my quest for work. At last
I received some. 1t was copying at misea-
BILE pittance, but it was work.
My humble lodging was in dingy street,
and directly opposite was hair dresser's
shop. In the window Was an object the
sight of which annoyed NE. In this life
you meet persons who are repugpant to
you, as well as those whom you like. IT,
one of a sensitive nature, like myself. the
same rule applies to inanimate objects.
Even for tables and chairs 1 have my likes
and dlsllkes. Things, says the Latin poet,
have tears; so, too, have they irony. And
this object in the hair .dresser's window
produced upon me- dissagreeable sensa-
ton of irony. The impression was all the
more disagreeable, because I WIS ashamed
Of myself for feeling it.
crossed the street and examined the OBJ
jsct Of my dislike. 1t was nothing-noth-
ing but Waxen Head. But it was dis
agreeable. 1t looked like a real head-a
head cut from body. It was not bust,
such as hair -dressers ordinarily have, but a
simple head, cut off at the neck, and placed
on shelf, with background of coarse, red
cloth: A flowing, blonde wig was upon it,
and its CLASSY, blue eyes had metallic
on its painted ips-a disagreeable amile.
Almost contemptuous smile. And
could not help thinking that the Thing
looked superciiously at me.
I finished the copying I had, and went
Tor laore. None to be had. Again I went
my weary round. No work. Dispirited
and melancholy, returned to my lonely
room. 1t was after dark. The hair dress.
ers window was family illuminated by
sickly, sputtering lamp. But in the dark
nees there shown out two brilliant points
of light.
They were the eyes of the Waxen Head.
began to grow alarmed, despite myself.
Gould the cursed thing be acting on my
brain? Was I in danger of madness?
But no; what folly! would not look up
on it. would avoid gazing out of the
window. For a week would not let my
eyes fall upon it. But it was not without
an effort. I experienced veritable tugs at
times, pulling me around to look at the
Waxen Head. But resisted.
At last one night I was returning home
lust after dark. The window was not light
=, r ~ p
Of the shop & lamp-ighter touched street
the light fell upoon the window. Starting
out of the darkness I saw the mockine
Head.
could not restrain myself. l entered
the shop, determined to make the owner re-.
move the hideous thing. AS crossed the
Threshold SNUG fellow advanced. bow
ing, smirking, and rubbing his hands.
What can do for you, sir?"
Nothing" said I; that is, nothing in the
What very singular head you have
there in the window!'
DO you think so, sir?"
yes. Can it be possible that it is any
use to you?"
"Oh. yes: it serves to attract customers,
and to display wigs. And then, you know,
It is one one of the accessories OF our bus
iness."
But" said I, hotly. "why do you not
have bust? You certainly should have
bust He was staring at me. I went On
more calmly: Besides, with a bust,
handsome pair of shoulders, necklace, or
something OF the kind, your window would
look more attractive"
Very true, SIR" but snch things cost
money, and money, slr, IS sometnlng not
very nlantifnl in this shon"
I grew excited again. could not help
1t. Il do not care" said I: that object
there looks like genuine head-a human
head. There are people whom such things
effect: A nervous shock might be
He burst into a roar of laughter.
changed my tone. l became humble,
admitted that the head produced sinis-
ter impression on me, and begged him to
remove 1t.
Why" said he, it you are so nervous,
you had better change your lodgings. It is
easy to do that. do not see why should
injure my business on account Of your
vhims."
He was right. could not rightfully ask
him to do it. But change my lodgings
, what bitter jest! I could not pay 70
those had, much less secure new onesr
> VIM pay AAous IL 0OSdACo 1o4u1I0Us wen,
out dejectedly, my head bent, and left thet
thing still in the window. And yet they
call me ferocious!
But my torture was only begun. The
cursed barber told his neighbors Of my
visit. I. became show fol the giggling
shop keepers. They would watch Tor my
goings and comings, and when passed the
window, With averted face, they would
chuckle and sneer. Even the little chill
their childish trebles would join the sneer-
ing laughter Of the elder fools.
Curses on them! wonder did not do
murder then.
Ono day my friend Arnold came to see
me-the only friend ! had in the great city.
s4r