Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1884-11-20
The Storw Teller.

The Stury Teller.
THE house IN THE MIRROR.
Itwas late one winter evening. The snow
was falling in thick, fast-comlng TAXES,
making white curtain that was perpetual
ly being letdown between heaven and earth;
The storm was carrying on wild sport rouno
the house, shaking the windows; beating
AGAINST the thick walls, and murmuring in
deep, hollow tones in the chimneys. 1t was
a night for warm, cosy, substantial INDOOR
comfort, and such I resolved to make 1t.
At the period of which / am writing l
was still young man, and was practising
successfully as doctor in town IN the
west of England-a tolerably large, Dusy
county town which lies very near the Dor
ders of both Devonshire and Somersetshlre.
was unmarried, and was living with an
old house keeper and one servant-girl, VINO
helped her by turns, now above stairs, now
below, with 'complacent SUBMISSION, De-
cause the semi-blindness and deafness OF
the good lady made interviews with her
true swain, the butchers boy, in the scullery
not only practicable but easy. On the even
ing in Question had come in whatwe med
ical men call "healthily tired" after hard
davis work in my professional duties, and
was now sitting costly by the blazing tire
in my dining room, with glass OF good
claret on the little round table at my side:
NY thoughts went wandering to and 1ro
lazily, now resting on some OF the most IN
teresting cases among my pa.eI pauents, now ,',
fluttering around pretty picture OF my
only sister and her first baby, which her
letter, received this morning from India,
had called up now straying into the stable
to visit my bay horse-a new purchase,
which I fiatteled myself did no small hon
or to nv Judgment in horse-fesh. Gradu-
ally, however, all these subjects of pleasant
reflection slipped into mass, and got con-
fusedly mixed together, found myself gaz-
ing, without feeling the least SURPRISE at an
odd vision, which showed me my sister
mounted on my pet bay with the babyin her
arms, who, instead of a baby's face, had the
face of my neighbor and patient, ola Mr..
Spicer, the grocer, and soon after that sunk
into a peaceful slumber, where no dream
even came to disturb me.
How long I slept do not actually know,
but recollect I woke with start, caused
by the clock on the chimney-piece, which
had peculiarly ringing, clear sound, strlk-
ing eight. I sat upright with jerk and
looked around with that vague, uncomfort-
able feeling which often follows sudden
up to the mirror which was over the Chin
ney-piece. Why was it that, as 1 gazed at
it, I uttered low exclamation, and then
shut nv eyes, thinking that sleep must still
be retaining its power over me, and that
I must be dreaming strange, fantastic
dream?
But no, certainly was not dreaming, for
there it was just as it had been before. Fix
my eyes as steadily as I might upon the
mirror, with all my wakeful facilities con-
centrated upon it with eager earnestness, 1t
was still there. I looked away, and fasten-
ed my look, for minute or more, upon my
mothers picture which hung over the side
board. Then my eyes were allowed to re-
turn to the glass; but this man9uvre was
useless also-it would not 60, do what l
would.
What / saw was certainly no alarming
vision, though its appearance, there IN the
mirror, over my dining-roOm chimney piece,
was remarkable and startling enough, to
saw the least of it. In the middle of the
glass, which in its other parts reflected sim
ply and naturally the commonplace objects
in the room, chairs and tables and window
curtains, there appeared small but vlvldly
distinct picture of house and garden. 1t
was a very pretty house, its front covered
on one side with a green creeper, which
was spangled with starry white blossoms,
and on the other with fresco such as |
had heard described as existing on the walls
of houses in Italy, where had never been
frescO representing an old woman sitting
with basket of oranges at her feet. There
were four windows, two upstairs, two
down, exactly over each other; they were
all half shaded with green blinds, and
could see that the top one, on the right
hand side, was slightly open. Up the gar
den there ran broad gravel walk, with soft
fresh turf, gemmed with flower beds On each
side of it. The inclosure was fenced round
with rather high wooden paling, and in
one corner of it there stood a summer house,
with cuaintly shaped roof, that had some
thing of a pagoda about it. Over the whole
there was spread soft, silvery light, as
though full moon was shining down upon
it. A yellow gleam, as of lamp burning
within, stole through the open window, and
mingled with the white rays without.
I had my fingers on my pulse. Was I 60
ing fast into raging fever? My pulses
were as steady as they were when 1 rose
that morning after nights sound sleep. l
tested my brain by going through, in my
mind, all the symptoms and features in a
difficult and perplexing case which had
been lately under my care; my mind acted
as cooly and calmly and regularly as it had
ever done. l repeated to myself several
passages of poetry from dlfferent authors IN
different languages; they came as quickly
and easily to my tongue as if had been
reading them from printed book. l gazed
around and fixed my eyes on various OBJ
ects in the room to see whether | should
be subjected to other optical delusions but
in all other points my eyes were as reasona-
BILE as they usually were; they showed me
nothing but the familiar chairs and table,
and the we'll known pattern on the wall.
Then I looked back at the mirror. The
house was still there.
Had been reading lately description
of such house, or had l lately seen any
where a picture like it? Either of these
things might possibly have left a vivid i'm
preston on my mind which might have
accounted for the strange delusion. was
not, however, able to recollectt, search my
memory as 1 would, that a book or paint
ing had brought such house and garden
before my thoughts. Twas naturally neith-
er excitable nor imaginative; indeed, was
generally regarded by every one who knew
- / t1, ,,,x,ooIf into the ha rpain as one