The Portland daily press., 1884-06-14

me to acquaint myself with precious stones
and their values, so that could only sur
| mise that the ring was somewhat valuable.
| Considering the excited condition OF my
nerves by this time, it was not strange that
| / should start when my eye fell upon the
name that was inscribed inside the ring
"Barbara."
sat and unused upon the whole adven-
| ture; what the crone had :old me, the grave
| yard, the ring and this was what returned
| to me the oftenest) the thrilling touch of
| that soft hand in the darkness.
Perhaps / should say right here that
called myself an old bachelor, and had new
or been in love-that is, with any mortal.
did not think that was devoid OF senti-
ment or feeling, for l dreamed OF love and
worshipped beautiful things of my own fam
cy, but my life had been thrown among boys
| and men, and woman was far away and
mystery. A motherlcss home, stern ia
Their, Woodworking students life at col
lege, stranger struggling for bread and
reputation in great city-one can perceive
how it could be that made so few acquaint-
ances among women. In reality was only
twenty-five, but much experience and busy
life made me feel older; so, as l said,
called myself bachelor.
have given this brief history of myself in
order to prepare the way for another confess
of that soft, warm hand.
1t is preposterous, but it is true. began
to doubt my reason. In vain l tried to re-
member that Barbara, the witch, was an
old, ugly woman. The only picture L could
call up was that of beautiful young girl
Without words fail me; only she was far
from ghostly, but was as warm and substan-
tial and full of life as that hand had seemed
to be.
The fire-irons fell with an unearthly clat-
ter and startled me out of my dreams; I
went to bed to soothe my nerves with sleep,
and lay awake most of the night with the
lamps burning.
Fortune smiled upon me from that night.
Two years of busy city life had passed, and
old Barbara's talisman was still unreclaimed,
when one day-do you believe in love at first
sight? Well, if the first appearance of Wal
ter Wyman's sister had not conquered me
as she stood under the parlor lamps, a reve-
lation of beauty and youth, the touch of her
hand when she welcomed her brothers
friend would have enslaved me forever.
Never had touch so thrilled me since
since l held the wItch's hand in the grave
yard. The same peculiar shock passed
through me, and the memory of that spec
trail night came over mo like flash.
But did not start to tell a love story.
Let me briefly say that 1 fell in love, hope
lessly and ridiculously in love, and that l
acted just as all lovers have done since the
world began. 1t doesn't much matter about
mans age. At twenty-seven he will con-
duct himself pretty much as he would have
done at seventeen, and so wrote verses
and sighed, and tormented myself with a
thousand hopes and fears, and grew hot
and cold by turns, and wonderfully timid
and prided myself upon concealing it all,
when as matter of fact, the state of my
feelings was perfectly apparent to all of my
acquaintance.
Matters were in this interesting state,
when one day an opportunity occurred of
which l avaiied myself with degree of
skill and presence of mind that am proud
of to this day. 1t all came about through
asking the young lady if she believed in
ghosts.
81 suppose should" said she, laughing,
considering my experience"
Leave woman alone to make an evasive
answer. OF course implored an explana-
ton, and she related to me the following
story:
sit was about two years ago when party
of girls, just home from school, were visiting
friend down in the country. One of the
girls had heard foolish old story about
witch's grave, and some nonsense about her
annual appearance, and talisman. and
when l expressed my increduity, the
bAohOo AAC " pun ~ " odC OVsbs w udb 10 VIC
matter? The place? A little town called
AdIingtune.
"FoOlishly accepted their challenge and
received terrible fright. carried out the
instructions and stretched my arm over her
grave. 1t was so dark could see nothing,
but some one seized my hand. was SO
benumbed with fear that could not cry out,
but could only fly through the lonely grave
yard to where my trembling companions
were awaiting me in the field. 1t was
foolish adventure, for fell i'll, and it cost
me valuable ring, which was left me by
my poor Aunt Barbara. For her name
sake she said when she sent it across the
sea to me. You see the ring was little
large for my finger and was pulled off by
by
"By me,'' l interrupted, taking the lest
ring from my pocket
1t was time for Barbara II forgot to say
that was her name) to be startled now. l
hope may say that l came out strong on
that occasion. l told my story in a very in
pressive way, fingered over the effect of the
witch's hand on my heart, spoke of the good
fortune the talsman had brought me, made
a very pretty allusion to Barbara the witch,
retaining her own-for was she not witch
after all, as l could testify, having felt her
charms-and finally not only offered to re-
turn the ring, but to give myself into the
bargain.
She took both.