Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1883-09-05
The Unfinished Manuscript.

Prof. Gailnet, of Little Rock, Ark.
and while sitting i'll the library, ell
gagged III conversation with the enter
tanning gentleman, observed a roll OF
manuscript tied with a strip of black
cloth. We asked him if it were some
thing designed for publication.
sit will never be published" he
said, and began to unroll it. "See
how it ends," and glancing at the bot
tom of the last page We read the fol-
lowing: "While he sat alone, deeply
musing, hearse passed the house. and
there the sentence broke off. Re-
queSting, almost imploring, the Profes-
sor to tell us the history of the curious
manuscript, he finally consented.
81 came to Arkansas when i was a
young man. One night / sat in my
library writing story for a magazine.
| was in good health and had cause to
feel elated over the success l had just
attained by the publication of a small
volume of sketches, but still l felt the
heavy weight of melancholy depression.
| arose and walked out, but soon re-
turned, not experiencing any change.
L bent myself to the work of writing a
dreary story and worked with surpris-
ing rapidity until L wrote, A hearse
passed the house and Here stopped.
A strange presentiment told me that l
would never finish the sentence. Next
day took up my pen to finish it, but
had not touched the paper with the
pen when a piercing shrek caused me
to spring to my feet and rush from the
room just in time to see horse, at
tached to a buggy, dashing wildly to-
ward my gate. A frightened woman
was in the buggy and L rescued her
l put the manuscript away and devO-
ted myself TO my new acquaintance;
our friendship grew into love and fin
ally we married. Then followed ten
years of happiness. 1 did not tell my
wife of the unfinished manuscript, but
one day she found it and begged me to
finish it. L did not like to confess my
foolish fears, and finally told her that
L would. The next night, after my
wife had gone to bed, L took down the
story and read it over. would finish
it for her sake. l took up the pen and
was just in the act of touching the pa
per when my wife called me. ran to
her and found her in dying condition,
having been attacked by rheumatism
of the heart.
''Have you ever attempted since to
finish it?'
"Yes. After my wife had been dead
for several years l determined one
night to finish the story. l went to
the desk, but had no sooner dipped my
pen in the ink when noise in an ad-
joining room attracted my attention.
Hurrying in the room / found my son
lying on the floor dead. He had al
ways been in wretched health and had
committed suicide?"
do you ever expect to finish the
story?"
81 expect to try again. 1t is imposSi-
BILE for me to remain superstitious,
even though 1 may have a powerful
cause for doing so. Of course. all this
would have happened even if l had not
begun the story. L think that next
Tuesday night, if l feel like it, l shall
devote myself to the completion of the
work, for 1 desire to see it in print.
Come up and see me start off,"
We were busy when Tuesday night
came, and-cowardly confession-were
not sorry that something kept us away,
Early Wednesday morning we hurried
to the house where for years tine pro-
fessor had lived. The horrible thought
seized us that he had taken up his pen
to finish the story and had fallen dead.
Some time elapsed before we had the
courage to knock at the door. At last
we raped.
No answer.
Another rap.
No answer.
With blood almost at freezing point,
and with hair standing erect, we showed
open the door. The old man sat lean
ing back in his chair, eating pie.
Come in, he said cheerfully. ''Y Ou
see L have Just finished that story, and
it gave me an appetite for pie. Pies q
good thing to eat after you finish up q
story, but you want to wait until you
are through writing"
Ibid you hear any strange nOises?'
we asked, ''when you began to write. ,
"Well, yes. A calf over in an ad
joining yard bawled for a while. Oh
yes, you are thinking about that story
L told you some time ago. Well, my
dear fellow, you should not have beer
so foolish as to have believed me.
never was married, you know. Hav'
some pie"