The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1886-09-16
A CLASSIC MANIAC.
A Young Lady Who Refused to
be Sacrificed.

1OohS aooy WIZ 3sOAu60o W
be Sacrificed.
Soon after the surrender l became a
teacher in the female seminary of j.,
in South louisiana. Like many another
of my countrywomen, / was compelled
to disregard the normal antipathy of
the Southern mind to a woman over
stepping the strait limits that bind her
within the sacred privacy of home, and
battling in the worlds arena for daily
bread. So l took my place in the
ranks of the CONTESTANTS, and trained
young ideas in the seminary of j..
found it a pleasant little place. pretty
and picturesque, and especially favored
with good society and an abundance of
schools and churches. 1t had one
great drawback, however; what that
was my story will disclose.
One summer evening l set out for a
ramble through the pine woods extend
ing for some distance above the town.
1t had been an intensely hot day, and 1
had found the tedium of the schoolroom
increased to an intolerable degree by
the burning heat of the atmosphere; so
! went to look for a cooler spot than the
brick walls of the college could afford.
] found it on the top of a pine-crowned
hill, and, seating myself ON the soft
carpet of dead pine straw that covered
the ground, became immersed in
thoughts of former halcyon days. be-
fore the grim spectres of war and ruin
stalked through our sunny land, that /
forgot all about the lapse of time and
my distance from home.
1 was recalled to a sense of my sur
roundings by a low roll of thunder,
and, starting up, was surprised to see
how dark it had grown. The sky was
covered with thick clouds, through
which shone an occasional omiDous
flash. The wind, too, had risen, and
the solemn roar of the pine trees, surely
the most mournful eerie sound mortal
ears aver heard, filled the air. l hastily
descended the hill, walking as rapidly
rs possible, hoping to reach home be-
fore the storm broke. Before ] had
gone half a mile / was startled by a
loud voice just behind me, saying:
"a pleasant evening, madam"
! turned round and stared in astonish-
ment. first. as not being as l supposed
entirely alone, secondly, at the uncere-
monious salutation of a stranger; and
thirdly, at the very inappropriate re-
mark. Immediately behind me, as if
he had just sprung out of the ground,
stood a young man, evidently a gentle
man, in faultless evening costume ex-
cept that, strange to say, he wore no
hat. Where he had come from, or
what he could be doing out there in che
woods in that dress and bareheaded,
could not conjecture; nor how he. pre-
sumed to address me so famil arly.
replied by as slight and cold a bow as
possible, and turning from him walked
rapidly onward. Not at all discomfort.
ed by my chilling behavior, he stepped
mp to my side and walked with me, con.
tinuing the conversation, or rather
monologue, in the same loud tone.
IAN uncommonly pleasant evening,
certainly. / have never felt the balmy
air of the sweet South so refreshing as
after a day when the scorching rays Of
Phe us, as the ancient Greeks named
the bright luminary of the sky, have been
so over-powering. l trust we shall have
lovely night when the pale Diana, god.
dess of the silver bow, will reign SUI
preme, and with her mild beams COO
our burning brains?"
lis he c~razyp' thought /, getting
rather pale n nervous, and then crit.
ically examining my unwelcome escort.
No, he looked sane enough; somewhat
Eighty, certainly, and decidedly high.
flown in his language; but com
posed and g~entlemanly in manner. Just
fAor ar,ornharaI that a~ootn,
Thespian society had been recently
sessed the hearts and souls of the juve.
nile population, and / at once set down
my acquaintance as an enthusiastic
votary of the histrionic art, who carried
lofty phraseology of the boards into
private conversation. l even though
his face looked familiar, and decided
that T must have met him at rehearsal
So, as there seemed no possibility o
getting rid of hun, I put a good face or
the matter end replied civilly that l wa:
afraid he was mistaken in his op.n
ion of the weather, as there seemed ev
cry prospect of a violent storm.
mo, no." replied my grandiloquen
friend, waving his hand gracefully
round what sailors would call 9TH,
0ffing," .'that is not probable. Zeus
father of gods and men, would not 81
forget his divine prerogative of protect
ing the weak as to commence tiingins
his thunderbolts around while one 81
fair. and alas! SO frail, is exposed t.
their dire effects"
DECIDEDLY the man is mad" though
], and involuntarily quickened my step
to a run.
.I)on't hurry" cried he, and laid hi
hand on my arm as if to check m,
fig hit. This completed my panic, but
had still sense enough left to reflect tina
if the man were really insane the wors
tn ng | could do vas to betray m,
terror II HIM, and l strove hard to re
tan sufficient presence of mind to &c
I'd of him without offending him.
Excuse me. sir, but as / see a hous
to the left among the trees, / think
W II take shelter there, as l am sure W
arc going to have a Storm"
As If to ~corrOborate my words Their
came just then Il binding flash, an cal
srl ting clap of thunder, and a fe,
large slow drops fell on my bonnet an
ny troublesome companions bare head
There speaks the voice of a might
Jove." cried that strange individus
VI I'll another graceful waveo of the hand
..but have no fears, madam, the gods G
high Olympus war not on weak mortal
like ourselves, but on each other"
Il don't care about getting my bes
bonnet ruined, however" said 1; '.ther
are no milliners' shops on Olympus
furnish me another. You, sir, as 20
do not seem afraid of storms and hav
no hat TO spo |. had better 90 on t
town
And leave you TO face the perils {
the tempest ~alone?" cried he, gallantly
Never! We W II face them together
no matter how dreadful they may be.
And he immediately began singing !
the same loud v ice unnaturaliy lout
j. seemed - me--the old-fashlone