Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-04-04

| no more than q sort Of permanent sunburn-
ing; such wrinkles heighten the stupidity Of
stupid faces, but to person like Will, with
his clear eyes and smiling mouth, only give
another charm by testifying to simple
and easy life. His talk was full Of wise say
ings He had taste for other people, and
other people had taste for him. When the
valley was full of tourists in the season, there
were merry nights in Willis arbor; and his
views, which seemed whimsical to his neigh
bors, were often admired by learned p.ople
out Of town and colleges. Indeed, he had a
very noble old age, and grew daily better
known; SO that his fame was heard Of in the
cities Of the plain; and young men who had
been summer travellers spoke together in
cafes of Will O the Mill and his rough phi
losophy. Many and many an invitation, you
may be sure, he had, but nothing could
tempt him from his upland valley. he would
shake his head and smile over his tobacco
pipe with a deal of meaning. "You come
too late" he would answer "I am a dead
man now; have lived and died already.
Fifty years ago you would have brought my
heart into my mouth; and now you do not
even tempt me. But that is the object Of
! long living, that man should cease to care
iAabout life" And again: ''There is only one
I difference between q long life and good
dinner: that, in the dinner, the sweets come
last" Or once more: "When was boy.
was bit puzzled, and hardly knew whether
| it was myself or the world that was curious
and worth looking into. Now, know it Is
myself, and stick to that"
He never showed any symptoms Of frailty,
but kept stalwart and firm to the last; but
they say he grew less talkative toward the
end, and would listen to other people by the
hour in an amused and sympathetic silence.
Only, when he did speak it was more to the
point, and more charged with old experience.
He drank bottle Of wine gladly; above all.
at sunset on the hilltop or quite late at night
under the stars in the arbor. The sight OF
something attractive and unattainable sea-
soned his enjoyment, he would say; and be
professed he had lived long enough to admire
q candle all the more when he could compare
it with planet.
One night, in his 72d year, he awoke in bed
in such uneasiness Of body and mind that he
arose and dressed himself and went out to
mediate in the arbor. It was pitch dark,
without star; the river was swollen, and
the wet woods and meadows loaded the air
with perfume. 1t had thundered during tho
day, and it promised more thunder for
the morrow. A murky, sitting night
for a man of 72. Whether it was
the weather or the wakefulness, or
some little touch Of fever in his old limbs,
Wills mind was besieged by tumultuous and
crying memories. His boyhood, the night
with the fat young man, the death Of his
adopted parents, the summer days with Mar
jory, and many Of those small circumstances,
which seem nothing to another, and are yet
the very gist Of mans own life to himself
things seen, words heard, looks misconstrued
arose from their forgotten corners and
usurped his intention. The dead themselves
were with him, not merely taking part in
this thin show Of memory that defled before
his brain, but revisiting his bodily senses as
they do in profound and vivid dreams. The
fat young man leaned his elbows on the table
opposite; MARI came and went with an
apronful of flow rs between the garden and
tho arbor; he could hear the old parson
knocking out his pipe or blowing his resonant
nose. The tide Of his consciousness ebbed
and flowed; he was sometimes half asleep and
drowned in his recollections Of the past,
and sometimes he was broad awake wonder
ing at himself. But about the middle
of the night he was startled by the
voice of tho dead miller calling to him out Of
the house as he used to do on the arrival Of
custom. The hallucination was so perfect
that Will sprang from his seat and stood
listening for the summons to be repeated; and
as he listened he became conscious Of another
ha 1,y.or ru1i Nf tba md
the stir Of the horses and the creaking OF
harness, as though q carriage with an i'm
patient team had been brought up upon the
road before the courtyard gate. At such an
hour upon this rough and dangerous pass.
tho supposition was no better than absurd;
and Will dismissed it from his mind, and re-
su1.lcd his seat upon the arbor chair; and
slcc, closed over him again like running
water. lie was once again awakened by the
dead millcr's CALL thinner and more spectral
than before; and once again he heard the
noise Of an equipage upon the road. And so
thrice and four times, the same dream, or the
same fancy, presented itself to his senses;
until at length, smiling to himself as when
one humors nervous child, he proceeded
towards the gate to set his uncertainty at
rest.
From the arbor to the gate was no great
distance, and yet it took Will some time; it
seemed as if the dead thickened around him
in the court, and crossed his path ut every
step. For, first, he was suddenly surprised
by ell ovclpowering sweetness of heliotropes;
it was Us if his garden Lad been planted with
this flower from end to end, and the hot,
damp night had drawn forth all their per-
{l,o L11to ofr 1,o1
been Marjory's favorite flower, and since hes
death net one of them had ever been planted
in Wills ground
81 must be going crazy" he thought "Poor
Marjory and her heliotropes!'
And with that he raised his eyes towards
the window that had once been hers. If he
had been bewildered before, he was now al
most terrified; for there was light in the
room the window was IN orange oblong as
of yore, and the corner of the blind was lifted
and let fall as on the night when he stood and
shouted to the stars in his perplexity. The
illusion only endured an instant, but it left
him somewhat unnamed, rubbing his eyes
and staring at the outline Of the house and
the black night behind it. While he thus
STOOD and it seemed as if he must have stood
there quite long time, there came renewa!
Of the noises on the road, and he turned IN
time to meet stranger, who was advancing
to meet him across tho court. There was
something like the outline Of great carriage
discernible on the road behind the stranger,
and, above that, few black pine tops, like
so many plumes.
"Master Willr' asked the new conner, in
brief military fashion.
"That same, sir" answered Will. "Can
do anything to serve you"
81 have heard you much spoken Of, Master
Will" returned tho other much spoken OF
and well. And though have both hands
full of business I wish to drink bottle OF
wine with you in your arbor. Before l go l
shall introduce myself"
Will led the way to the trellis and got a
lamp lighted and bottle uncorked. He was
not altogether unused to such compli-
mentary interviews, and hoped little enough
from this one being schooled by many dis
appointments A sort of cloud had settled
on his wits and prevented him from remem.
bering the strangeness of the house. He
moved like a person in his sleep, and it
seemed Us if the lamp caught fire and the
bottle came uncorked with the facility OF
thought. Still, he had some curiosity about
the appearance of his visitor and tried in
vain to turn the light into his face; either be
handled the lamp clumsily or there was Il
dimness over his eyes, but he could make
out little more than shadow at table with
him. He stared and stared at this shadow
as he wiped out the glasses and began to fee
cold and strange about the heart. The 81
Ience weighed upon him, for he could heaI