The Russellville Democrat., 1886-04-29
THE HOUSE IN THE MIRROR.

It was late one winter evening. The
snow was falling in thick, fast-coming
flakes, making white curtain that was
perpetually being let down between
heaven and earth. The storm was car
ryiEg ON wild sport round the house,
shaking the windows, beating against
the thick walls, and murmuring in
deep, hollow tones in the chimneys. It
vas night for warm, coy, substantial
indoor comfort, and such resolved to
make it.
At the period Of which I am writing I
was still a young man, and was practic-
ing successfully as a doctor in town in
the west of England-a tolerably large,
busy country town which lies very near
the borders Of both Devonshire and
Somersetshire / was unmarried, and
was living with an old housekeeper and
one servant girl, who helped her by
turns, now above stairs, now below,
with complacent submission, because
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 evening in question l had come
In what we medical men call "healthily
tired" after : hard days work In my
professional duties, and was now sit
ting costly by the blazing fire in my
dining-room, with glass OF good claret
on the little round table at my side.
Ny thoughts went wandering to and
fro lazily, now resting upon some Of the
most interesting cases among my pa
TENTS. now futtering 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
fiattsred myself did no small honor to
my Judgment in horse-fesh. Gradually,
however, all these subjects Of pleasant
reflection slipped into mass and got
confusedly mixed together. found
myself gazing, without feeling the least
surprised, at an odd vision, which
showed me my sister mounted on my
pet bay with the baby in her arms, who,
Instead Of baby's face, had the face Of
my neighbor and patient old MIR.
6picer, the grocer, and soon after that
was sunk into peaceful slumber,
where no dream even came to disturb
me.
How long / slept l do not exactly
know, but recollect l woke with q
start, reused by the clock on the chin
ney-piece, which had peculiar ring
ing, clear sound striking eight sat
upright with n jerk and looked with
that vaguely uncomfortable feeling
which often follows sudden waking
My glance happened to wander up to
the mirror which was over the chimney
piece. Why was 1t that, as gazed ut
It, l uttered low exclamation, and
then shut my eyes. thinking that sleep
must still be retaining Its power over
me, and that | must be dreaming .
strange, fantastic dreamp
But no, certainly was not dreaming,
for there it was, Just as 1t had been be-
fore. Fix my eyes as steadily as might
upon the mirror, with all my wakeful
faculties concentrated upon il in eager
earnestness. it was still there. Hooked
away, and fastened my look for min
ute or more upon my mothers picture,
which hung over the sideboard Then
my eyes were allowed TO return to the
glass; but this maneuver was useless
also--it would not go, do what / would.
What saw was certainly no alarm
Ing vision, though its appearance. there
In the mirror, over my dining-room
chimney-piece, was remarkable and
startling enough, to say the least Of 1t.
In the middle Of the class, which in its
other parts reflected simply and natur-
ally tie commonplace objects In the
room, chairs and tables and window
curtaiQ, thero appeared q small but
vividly Instinct picture Of . house and
RardenY e was very pretty house, its
<ont covered on one aide with r. green