The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1883-09-12
INTERESTING SKETCH.
HAUNTED"

and euriously scalloped shells--a very old
house, seeming to lean toward the sea, from
its place in the midst of meadow of sea-
grass, and the distant glimmer of sails be-
yond the curling lines of breaker, this was
delicious enough To Kitty Primrose rs she
sat under the shadow of monster white
umbrella, and tried to transfer TO canvas the
vague glory of the scene.
Kitty had not been strong that summer.
Either she had danced too much, or prac-
ticed her music too energetically, or lost her
roses in the ballroom and theatre box too
recklessly And when the warm weather
swooped upon the city, like a fiery winged
vulture, the old family doctor shook his
head at the idea of Saratoga, Newport, or
even Atlantic City.
No. NOR said he None of those
human caravan series It's like pouring
oil ON fire TO put it out. Take ner into
the country. The real country, where
she'll see nothing but cows and clover
blossoms If its within the reach of sea-
breeze, so much the BETTER
SO Uncle Dionysius and aunt Jean had
brought their darling to Sandy Point
where the only inhabitants were gruff old
farmer with his Woodworking wife and
freckled daughters and the ocean Tapped
the shores with soothing, monotonous
southland as the days went by, the faint
pink once more began to bloom ON Kitty
Primrose's cheell
g And il Is really--haunted ~ she asked,
that morning, as she looked toward the old
ruin which leaned away from the wind, like
some old man who shrunk from blow
Well, MISS said Prissy Hawk, tho
farmers daughter, who had come out to
bring her MONDAY glass of milk to the city
young lady, I'VE know there amt no such
thing as ghosts. But all the same there's
been queer sights and sounds around that
old ruin ever since we lived here. Folks
don't like to go apast it after dark and of
a winter evening youth see a strange red
light shinin' out of the windows, as can
only come-or at least SO Aunt Pollock
says-from the everlasting fires of the
other world !"
:" Oh, NONSENSE" chirped Aunt jean,
who was CHEEKY woman of ffty-fiye.
" How people can listen to such nonsense,
don't know"
" / only say what I've heard, ma'am,n
said Priscilla, demurely COMPRISING her
lips.
. Well, we'll, there always must be GER
tain amount of folly and superstition in
this world" said Uncle Dionysius in
diligently.
And Kitty sat and looked OF the old ruins,
purpling in the distance, and sighed softly.
Aunt Jean watched her with loving intent
ness. Was she thinking of Brian Bal
more?
g almost wish, Dionysius," she said to
-Lasaie,.d q thai i.s.le.~.-..stsazt~z
that mans suit. think Kitty was fond of
him. And am sure that he loved herr
Pooh, pooh," said Uncle Dionysius.
" A poor, penniless artist Our Kitty, who
Is fit to be princes bride, How would
they mate together ?"
But love is better than gold. Diony-
sius, pleaded Aunt Jean, wistfully.
" My dear, now you are talking the silly,
romantic stuff they put innovels, said Uncle
Dionysius, in superior way. Balmore
never really cared for the girl. All the
world knows that he is after that California
heiress Wheatleigh, her name was, wasn't
it? If had believed that he had loved
her"
Aunt Jean sighed. "Ah WE'LL" said she,
suppose we must take things as they
come"
In the soft, red flush of the twilight
Kitty came down by the sea. Uncle Dion
was asleep on the one hard lounge which
the farmhouse parlor boosted, and snoring
loudly. Aunt Jean was peacefully arrang-
ing the octagon patches for her new silk
quilt, beside him. And Kitty Primrose,
with vague longing in her heart for some
thing which she herself could hardly have
particularized sauntered down to where the
tides were going out in q monotonous muir
MUIR leaving soft fringes of foam behind in
their tracks.
:" How l would like to go in the haunted
house !" she thought. l will go~
And full of this new ambition. she hur-
rled across the sedgy sands, careless of the
screech of sea-gulls and the rush of out
going waves, never pausing until she had
reached the ruinous fence where few
stumpy lilac bushes and a struggling apple
Aee or two marked the site where once O
garden spot had been
The blood-red fires of the sunset were
almost dying out now-an ominous chill
seemed to fall on the atmosphere as
the gate creaked beneath her hand, Kitty
Primrose almost wished that she had not
come!
A low, melancholy stxain of music fllad
the air and died away-the wailing, perhaps,
of some ghostly violin long since moldered
away to dust, and in the same moment,
Kitty's startled eyes perceived face at the
window
With shrek she fell fainting amid the
long grass Poor little Kitty! She had
firmly persuaded herself that she was not
superstitious, but the dying light, the
dolorous moaning of the sea, the sad strain
of supernatural music, and the ghostly face
looking down upon her from the ruined
sashes above-these combined influences
were enough to upset anyone! She had
over estimated her own strength of mind
and body, that was all.
Uncle Dionysius Dean walked up, after
awhile, and stretched himself.
Where's Kitty p said he, as he looked
around the low-ceiled room, where the
light of kerosene lamp flung varying
shadows on the wall