Daily Los Angeles herald., 1883-09-22

/ "AAIh SnSAASttU ~ Vn hfA oaaco,
giving it q cool and breezy. as
well as comfortable look. On the
west side Of this piazza. seated in
one of those easy bamboo chairs
which makes cne rested even to
look at, was a remarkably pretty
girl OF about seventeen. She had
a book in her hand, hrt instead
of reading it she was hooking out
Unto the rain. day dreaming about
something, / dare say. She had
not noticed me, / had come up
so quietly.
/ walked to within thirty feet
Of the house without disturbing
her, and was beginning to wonder
how 1 could attract her attention
without startling he- too much.
when she turned toward me, and
without showing the slightest
astonishment, invited me to come
into the house until the shower
should be over. I thanked her,
and said I would not trouble her
to move, as it would probably be
over Immediately. Sol sat down
on the broad sill of a window,
and having introduced myself,
we opened conversation, which
proved SO interesting that I en-
tirely forgot the time until an old
clock inside the house struck six,
slowly and deliberately. It had
begun to grow dark; the rain con
tinued as hard rs ever. l heard
a gong strike once. and the girl
said, rising: "I'm afraid it won't
stop raining to night; hadn't you
better stay here?" I willingly
assented, and We entered the
house. The front hall was fin
ished in oak in the most substan-
tial manner, and had a round
window Of stained glass over the
door. A large oil painting Of the
Yosemite Valley occupied one
side wall, and at the end, COR
trasting strangely With the heavy,
old fashioned room, we're the
polished case and glittering bells
Of a telephone.
I was surprised to find q tsle-
phone in so isolated a house, and
inquired II it were connected with
the Exchange. Receiving an
Affirmative answer, l. with her
permission, rang the bell. and
was soon talking with my friends
at home, whom / relieved from
anxiety and promised to return
the next day. They asked me
where / was, but I replied tha. / |
knew no better than themselves, |
except that the number was
8.216. Then bidding them good
by, / followed my guide into the
dining-room, and after a bounti-
ful meal retired to rest in room |
that, like the rest OF the house.
was Lighted by gas; and / only |
had time to vaguely wonder how
many miles Of pipe it would take
TO conduct the gas thither before
I went to sleep. aud SO tired was
/ that it was 8 o'clock when / |
awoke the next day. / found the |
ground floor. after some difficulty |
from the winding and twisting |
Of the corridors, and also my fair |
hostess, who, in spite Of my re
monstrances had a breakfast pre-
pared for me. and the last thing
I saw, as / whizzed down the hill |
on my homeward way, was that
girl, sitting there in the same at |
titude as that in which found
her, looking as unconcerned as il
entertaining benighted wheelmen
were the commoaest thing in the
world. The sun shonc as bright
ly as before; the same gentle
breeze blew out of the vest
could easily imagine lhe whole
thing dream. l soon reached
home. and received a volley Of
questions. none Of which / could
answer.
And now comes the strangest
part of the whole affair Three
DAYS afterward / started for the
same place with the means and
intention Of paying for my nights
entertainment, and not for that
alone, as may be supposed. l
penetrated without difficulty TO
the place where the branch road
should have been, but--no branch
was therel The road ended
abruptly among trees that must
have been fifty years old, and
without nearly enough space be-
tween any two ofthem for a road
Not a trace Of that lofty bill
could / find--the house, the road,
the iron gate e-all had disappear
ed. l was obliged to return home,
disappointed and greatly mysti-
fed. Many time since / have
gone to that place and thorough
~ searched the vicinity, but with
out success. Many a time have
l searched the telephone book for
No. S,216. but in vain. The
operators at the Central know or
profess to know. nothing about
the circumstances. which, / am
now convinced, will always re-
main an unexplained mystery =.