Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-05-02

such music as no mortal ever heard
before, and at the same time the writer
was led to large gilded or golden
platform, which lowered aloft in the
upper portion Of the room, and was
reached by stairs that dazzled the eye
at first, but afterward soothed it and
seemed to entrance the visitor.
Ascending, the summit was reached,
and, looking down to the floor he had
Just left, a sight presented itself which
the writer must acknowledge himself
unable to portray. 1t was hundred
thousand fairy lands combined in one
vast picture of loneliness and supreme
beauty. Seated on a divan, and sur
rounded by bevy of hewildering
beautiful minXes, whose angelic voices
and merry laughter made the brain
whirl, the writer prayed that he might
never again see the outside world,
but that he might live to eternity
amid those scenes. His every wish
was gratifed on the instant. a request
was scarcely made but it was fulfilled.
He hesitated to give voice to his
wishes lest they might offend, his
every thought was interpreted even
before it matured and his desires were
answered, Land the rare wine and costly
Jewels were brought him and laid
before him before he had dared even
hope for their possession.
Below me was a scene Of dazzling
beauty. Fountains of golden waters
gladdened the eye at intervals about
the room. while the perfume of rare
exotics filled the atmosphere and en-
ervated the brain. Thousands upon
thousands of pretty girls in Oriental
costumes fitted here, there and every
where, and came ard went at the
writer's command. No wish was I'M
gratifed, no desire unfulflled. 1t was
a paradise on earth. There was no
male present but himself. The China
man had disappeared and the writer
was alone in his glory. Oh, for the
pen of Dante Oh, for the descrip-
tive powers of Byron
Suddenly a shadow came across the
room, and the pretty girls disappeared
one by one. Even those upon the dias
withdrew. The Chinaman reappeared
and informed the writer that terrible
storm was approaching, and that they
must return at once. Even as he
spoke, the distant mutterings of
thunder could be heard, and then the
lightning flashes darted across the
room. 1t was a terrible storm. The
attendant tore the costly lace from the
writer's body, and at his command a
hundred or more hideous looking
creatures gathered around and aided
him in tormenting the writer They
took off the top of his head with ham
mers and chisels, and picked his brain
out piece by piece, grinning hideously
the while. Then they began to tear
the flesh from the bones, and one more
vicious than the rest graSped his
tongue and kept pulling it out inch by
inch, foot by foot, until he could feel
the very soles of his boots give way
and start on their upward journey
through his marrow. They then
placed his head between two large re-
volving stone cylinders, anil he heard
the skull being crushed, as he was
drawn into and between the grinding
wheels that appeared to be turning at
the rate of one revolution in million
years. Each inch of diaphragm was
subjected to years and years Of this
crushing process, and the prayers to
be put to instant death brought forth
maniacal laughter and jeers from the
torturers. If the first scene was para
disc the second was worse than Hades.
Not for 100000 worlds would the
writer pass through the horrors of
that torture again. Then came noise
like the bursting of hundred thousand
bombs.
Look there |" said one of the mon
sters, pointing to corner of the room.
The writer slowly opened his eyes,
looked in the direction pointed out,
and saw-the man with the cross
country grin and the banjo head fea-
lures, sitting by the fire, sewing but
ton on his trousers.
1t was not until after the expiration
of nearly half an hour that the writer
could find tongue to speak, and then
the words came thick and husky.
Upon asking how long he had been
there, the man pointed to the clock.
1t was twenty minutes past 10. When
he began smoking it was few min
utes past 8. Rolling from the shelf,
the floor appeared to shelve upward,
and he became impressed with the
idea that he was in danger of being
cut in twain by the sharp corners of
the room, which whirled about him
with a dizzying speed. 1t was some
minutes before he trusted himself on
his feet, and then his head panied, and
the very blood in his veins seemed
boiling. Bidding the proprietor of the
place goodnight, he left the den, de.
termined never again to participate in
] g luxuries of the bowl.