The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-12-12

traps-each to follow their own will and meet for
the late dinner. Our rooms were ready then,
and mine was delight from its profusion OF
| carved oak furniture
/ But that dream picture had become family
| superstition, and when one of us saw line OF
| wind broken trees leading to the lake and COM
bined that with the carved bedstead, no reason
| ing would have got me permission to stay IN
! that room.
II took another much less fine, to the be-
wilderment of the landlady; but We hit upon the
! idea of saying it was VOW had to fulfill, not
| to sleep in a bed of that sort.
1T was just after this Tyrol episode that, re-
| turning to America / went for a few days to
Annapolis This old Maryland city is so differ
ent from our shiny new towns. it is such a bit OF
still life left us from colonial days, that If you
need a bath of repose go there. once sent
| young architect there to make useful studies for
his orders for country seats; but his patrons had
| more money than taste or knowledge. There Is
| a whole Queen Anne town; and real Elizabethan
| mansions of rich red brick brought over in Queen
| Anne's day--the brick now mellowed to softest
| tones, and all embroidered by weather stains,
| while whole gables are dense walls of century
| old ivy; avenues of Lombardy poplars have been
changed into huge columns by the ivy which has
| strangled and shrouded them, while the huge
old courthouse too respectable to be called to
account for its sins of architecture, en-
shrines fragments of our early history
which bring emotion to even blase
mind; the desk by which Washington stood
/
on which he rested his hand, when, silent from
| feeling, he could not respond to the heartfelt
words OF praise given him by the presiding Off
| Ger, and caused that official to say these other
| true words: There is no need for you to speak,
| Mr.. Washington; we all know your modesty is
only equaled by your bravery
above this memorable bit of mahogany are
their two battle flags, placed there by Washing
| ton and Lafayette-our modest little thirteen
| stars new born and frendless. crossed by the
historic royal white field and gold lilies of the
| Bourbons.
Queen Anne herself gave to the good old
| church its fine communion service and the chime
of bells which still tell in silvery sweet tones the
uneventful hours of town finished hundred
years ago. and whose profound quiet of stagna-
| ton makes Annapolis I'M American.
Always on other visits had gone to de-
| lightfully well-kept quiet house, where my
specia! midshipman could bring classmates. and
have the feeling of being out of bounds. The
Naval Academy is in every way more considerate
| for youth than the obsolete exactions Of West
Point where no return to family life is permit
| ted the cadet
| This time, going with my usual certainty. I
| found the house closed, because of a death in
the family; but Mrs G. had sent a servant to the
station to take me to the best quarters she could
| substitute.
There my young people met, and as my room
was not quite ready, we kept at table, and after
| In the cheerful, warm parlor until it time
for them to rush back to the yard before the
| gates closed.
II was tired and quickly ready for rest. The
room. too, was not warm. Only intended fire of
| green wood smoldered in the large fireplace, and
| the two candles gave but little light. There was
| no fire at all in the small room opening from
| mine, whore my maid was to Sleep and when
was undressed she wrapped herself in a warm
| plaid and asked to stay In my room and finish
| something she was reading, as she was not
| sleepy. / was glad to keep her. for felt upset
| and always liked her about me. Some people
have the property of soothing as others have the
| quality of rumpling, all ones feelings. In all
| the long time my poor Sarah was with me she
| fitted in tremendously
This night was not myself It had been a
| shock to find what sorrow had come to Mrs. G.s
| family. was tout of my bearings, and Annap-
| oils was having the unusual experience of snow
storm and the chill damp penetrated houses
| only prepared for mild winters. The snow was
| over, but black masses of cloud contended with
| a cold moon. l could not warm, even in bed
but lay awake idly watching through the un-
curtained windows the hurrying clouds and the
wind tossed trees Sarah, in the red Scotch rug
was a comfortable object; the dark wood of the
| tall bureau between the windows made good
| background for this patch of color She had
coaxed the fire until at last some life had come
to it, and as it sent up more light noticed the
| very handsome carving of the high bedposts
"Quick as lightning flash it all came back
| to me!
Every detail was there The furniture
Identical in shape and hangings, the high
|
a ragged avenue to water-the Chesapeake bay
| lay at the foot of that slope-only was alone
and the figures of the two men we're wanting.
with one spring I was out of that bed and
| holding on to the startled Sarah.
"'Sarah, / said, this is the room am to die
| in
"She had travelled with us, and knew the
story.
tainted away. Habit. stronger than this horror,
| sent last thought for my comfort.
:" You're in your bare feet and mutter
about taking cold las though that mattered
| when one was about to die).
Il laid her on the red rug, and from the trav-
cling bag got the little brandy flask, but it was
| long before she reused fully.
1--WE kept very quiet for we had been told
there was very young baby in room near.
| But we made ready for the worst We put out
one candle, to make our lights last; we cherished
| our small provision of wood. I dressed, and we
! put on our wraps. l wrote long letter of fare
we'll to my home people-actualy l did; and l
| cried plentifully as I wrote. Sarah held on to
me, crying softly and saying continuous prayers;
telling her beads with some trouble. as she would
| not let go my gown, or, when l stopped writing,
| my hand 1t was all very real, and terrible
| as reality to us; and had no more reason that
| maid We were just two women, scared With
| the day and the sun came a clearer head.
But cut my visit short and went home by
| the first train, after seeing my midshpman. 1
could laugh Ia little). but he, having grown up
| to this story, had respect for it.
| You must get out of this as fast as you can,
and say nothing about it. but you can't stay here
another night and there is no other place.
MY home people did not laugh at me. We all
| had sort Of smile-a wet variety however-as
| the night of terror was told over. The good of
it was that the dream had been met face to face,
| and was over and exploded.
''rhat ghost was laid.
| '.Afterward learned that that room had had
the usual modern furniture, but when Mrs. g.
sent for a room for me- in their desire to treat
me well, this family had removed what was in
the place. and taken much trouble to set up
| these handsome mahogany things belonging to
| their grandfather, a Welshman, long since dead,
who had brought it from England.
From that came the delay in showing me to
my room until it was late, and Il hurrying to get
to sleep; otherwise must have noticed it, and L