The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1888-08-15
VOLUME XXXIII. NO. IA.
My Whistling Neighbor.

ty-five years ago-but it is tale that
richly deserves to be "twice told"
We had moved into a new house
situated about the center in a row ot
ten, all run up together, in hurried
mushroom fashion, and divided from
each other by partitions of brick sc
thin that sound was only little
deadened in passing through. Fol
the first three OF four nights l was IN
able to sleep, except in snatches, fol
so many noises came to my ears, orig
mating, apparently, in my own dom.
icile, that anxiety in regard to bur.
glars was constantly excited. Both on
the first and second nights I made 8
journey through the house in the
small hours, but found no intruders on
my premises. The sound that dis
turbed me came from some of my
neighbors, who kept later vigils than
suited my habits.
"There it is again !" said I, looking
up from my paper, as l sat reading on
the second day after taking possession
of my new home. "That fellow is g
nuisance"
"What fellow?" asked my wife
whose countenace showed surprise al
the remark. She was either uncon.
scious or unaffected by the circum.
stance that annoyed my sensitive ears
"Don't you hear t?" said I.
"Hear whatw
"That everlasting whistle"
cop A smile played over my wife's
face. "Does it annoy you? ?"
II can't say that I am particularly
annoyed by it yet; but I shall be il
it's to 60 on incessantly. A man whis.
ties for want of thought, and this very
fact will"
"I'm not so sure of that,n remarked
my wife, interrupting me, "the poet
Notwithstanding. I would say that
he whistles from exuberant feelings.
Our neighbor has sunny temper, nc
doubt; what, am afraid, cannot be
said of our neighbor on the other side.
I've never heard him whistle ; but his
scolding abilities are good; and, judg.
ing from two days, observation, he il
not likely to permit them to grow fee.
BILE for want of use."
I did not answer, but went on with
my reading, silenced, if not reconciled
to my whistling neighbor.
Business matters annoyed me through
the day, and I felt moody and de.
pressed as took my course home.
ward at nightfall. I was not leaving
my cares behind me. Before shutting
my account books and locking my
fre-proof, had made up a bundle Of
troubles to carry away with me, and
my shoulder stopped beneath the bur.
den.
1 did not bring sunlight into my
dwelling as I crossed, with dull, delib.
crate steps, its threshold. The flying
feet that sprung along the halb anu
the eager voices that filled, suddenly,
the air in a sweet tumult of sound as
1 entered, were quiet and hushed in a
little while. I did not repel my pre-.
cious ones for they We're very dear to
my heart; but birds do not sing joy.
ously except in the sunshine, and my
presence had cast shadow: The
songs of my home birds died into
mournful chirpings-they sat quiet
among the branches. saw this, and
understood the reason. I condemned
myself: reasoned against the folly
of bringing worldly cares into the
home sanctuary l endeavored to rise
out of my gloomy state. But neither
philosophy nor a self-compelling ofort
was of any avail.
I was sitting, with my hand partly
shading my face from the light, still
in conflict with myself, when L be-
came conscious OF the lifting of the
shadows that were around me, and OF
freer respiration. The change was
slight, but still very perceptible. l
was beginning to question as to its
cause, when my thought recognized
an agency which had been operative
through the sense of hearing, though
not before externally perceived in
consequence of my abstracted state.
My neighbor was whistling "Begone,
dull care"
Now, in my younger days, I had
whistled and whistled and sung the air
and words of this cheerful old song
hundreds of times, and every line was
familiar to memory. listened with
pleased interest for little while, and
then, as my changing state gave pow
er to resolutions quick born of better
reason, 1 said, in my thought, emphat-
ically, as if remanding all evil spirit,
"Begone, dull care ~ and the fiend
left me.
Then I spoke cheerfully, and in a
tone of interest to quiet little May,
who had walked round me three or
four times, wondering in her little
heart, no doubt, what held her at a
distance from her papa, and who was
now seated by her mother, leaning
her flaxen head, fluted all over with
glossy curls. against her knee. She
sprang, at my voice, and was in my
lap at bound. What thrill of pleas
ure the tight clasp of her arms sent to
my heart! o, love, thou art full Of
blessing!
From that moment felt kinder to-
ward my nelghhor. He had done me
good-had played before ME as David
played before Saul, exercising the evil
spirit of discomfort. There was DO
longer repellent sphere, and soon all
my little ones were close around me,
and happy as in other times with
their father.
After they all were in bed, and I sat
alone with my wife, the cares that Gin
fest the day" made a new assault upon
me, and vigorously strove to regain
their lost empire in my mind, I felt
approaches, and the gradual receeding
of cheerful thoughts with every advan-
cling step they made. In my struggle
to maintain that tranquility which
so strengthens the soul for work
and duty, I arose and walked the
floor. My wife looked up to me
with inquiry on her face. Then she
let her ewes fall unOu her nendle-Wnrk