The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-05-09

self ; the figure was so real, the face. and
 the hand clasped were so unnistakably
 those of Mrs. Johnson. If 1t was a case
 ot Authorization it was the only one of my
 life; am sure of that"
 You were probably deceived by | general resemblance" said I. GYou are
 ao liable to any hallucination. pre-
 sume the voice, had your unknown spoken, would have undeceiyed you.
 And fl ithad been Mrs. Johnson l am
 not sure she would not dissolva into thin
 air if she chose. Her disappearance
 from the day she ieR the sea-side was as
 complete and as mysterious as if she had
 become invisible cannot understand
 how we failed to find her.n
 Ut is strange" said George. rising ::
 "let us walk out, if you will. Agnes hs.
 been brought back to me vividly, for the
 hrst time since my illness. l cannot
 think calmly of her death, alone in that
 room with the rats swsrming about her Would you prefer to rideT feel as if
 nothing but a long walk would meet my
 case. If Agnes had only lived-if we
 could find Mrs. Johnson again p We were very soon to see Mrs. Johnson, We put on our ovexcoats and walked
 out in the clear winter evening. The sun
 had long since gone down, but there was
 pale green tint in the northwest, and
 two long ribbons of northern lights stteamed up on either side of the Great Bear, the stars glittered in the sky, and
 the snow lay thick and white in the
 streets as if they were country lakes. We
 walked rapidly and aimlessly, and in si-
 lence. Finding ourselves near one of the
 great ferries, we crossed the river: a strong tide hurried the broken ice along:
 the boats labored heavily, with their
 bright lights in red and white and green. and the whole shove of the island blazed with the reflection of the gas jets upon the snow. We elandsd. George silently resumed his walk in the solitude which can only be found in crowded street, A bill board at theateT door caught my eye, with the line in large red letters,
 LA cHARMEUSE DE PIGEONS"
 l called Georges attention, and we en- tered the place. The programme was a long one; dull enough with dialect spec ialists, and flashing serio-comic ar- lists, ]" and convulsing song and dance business" with the pigeon charmer act near the end. The Garcia family, with the great Garcia in his feats of a -iel tug glery, and Madame Garcia, in her bird charming act of unrivaled beauty, con- cluding with the flight of the entire flock across the theater, alighsing upon the ar- tises person."
 George was silent. A play of deeper meaning than the frivolties of the stage before us was in his miRd. Hesaw a fair life whose brightest threads had been woven close into the web of his own ex- istence, end in solitude, and in that mis- cry which comes only when a far-seeing soul is convinced that it is not as others are, and feel that in all the wide limits of human existence there is 20 place for it. We both of us realized what Agnes had concealed under the light words which formed her last message to the living. and we neither felt clear of all blame.
 At length the last dull act was done and the Pigeon-Charmer stepped lightly on the stage. She seemed young. Her exquis- ite form was hardly concealed by the ciose-htting suit of green and gold she wore. Her lovely arms were bare to the shoulder, and brief tunic of gilt feath- CTS offered the sole hindrance to an en- tire revelation of her outline. Her hair was very abundant, curly and blonde. By her side, as she bowed to the aud fence, white poodle stood upright with a little whip in his mouth and a small willew basket hung upon one of his fore legs. The poodle bowed when his mis- tress did, and followed a little distance behind her as she took her position at the right of the stage and called in a soft deep voice, "Come, George"
 George started in his seat. do not know what he expected. had secretly hoped that in the Pigeon Charmer of the evening we might m:et Mrs. Johnson; but the first glance showed me that Mime. Garcia was much smaller than Georges mysterious nurse, and the hair and the face were wholly unlike those of the woman we had SO vainly sought. The voice, however, as the Pigeon Char mer spoke the familiar name, was the voice of Mrs Johnson, and the graceful sweep of her round, white arms, as she them toward the invisible bird. was the old familiar gesture ofthe beach: and It needed but the sight of the snowy pigeon fluttering overhead, and pushed playfully from side to side in the air as it sought to perch upon the Pigeon Char mer's upturned face, to assure me that we had indeed met by a commonplace chance, the woman who had eluded our most persistent search.
 Presently the bird was received upon an uPlifted forehnger. A tair hand passed along his back, and seized and lung him far over the heads of the spec 'ators: The white pigeon futtered back and his mistress put him in her bosom. It was Mrs. Johnson. Bird after bird was called, until they covered her outstretched arms, her shoulders and her head, and 'ome of the later ones were feign to cling Q her corsage with their red feet and iutter their wings to keep their places. The Pigeon-Charmer, covered with her ,ets, advanced to the footlights with 'urvea outstretching arms, and bowed in acknowledgement of the applause that yreeted the pretty picture. Then beau iful boy of six or seven. also in green