Wichita eagle., 1889-11-15
THE HOUSE In THE MIRROR

1t was late one winter evening. The snow
Tas falling in thick, fast coming flakes, max
Ing white curtain that was perpetually be-
ing let down between heaven and earth The
storm was carrying on wild sport around the
house, shaking the windows, beating against
the thick walls and murmuring in deep, hol-
low tones in the chimneys. 1t was night
for warm, cosy, substantial indoor comfort,
and such resolved to make it.
At the period of which l am writing / was
still young man, and was practicing sue
cessfully as doctor in a town in the west Of
England-a tolerably large, busy country
town which lies very near the borders of both
Oevonshire and Somersetshire | was I'M
married, and was living with an old house
keeper and one servant girl, who helped her
In 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 butcher s
boy, In the scullery, not only practicable but
easy. On the evening In question had come
in what we medical men call healthy tired"
after a hard days work in my professional
duties, and l was now sitting costly by the
blazing fire in my dining room, with gia )
Of good claret on the little round table at my
side
Ny thoughts went wandering to and fro
lazlly, now resting upon some OF the most in
teresting cases among my patients, now fiut-
tering around pretty picture of my only
sister and her first baby, which her letter, re-
ceived this morning from India, had called
up; now straying into the stable to visit my
bay horse-a new purchase, which f1attered
myself did no small honor to my judgment in
horse flesh. Gradually, however, all these
subjects of pleasant reflection slipped into a
mass. and not 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, Mr.. Spicer, the grocer, and
Boon after that was sunk into a peaceful
slumber, where no dream even came to dis
turb me.
How long slept l do not exactly know,
but recollect l woke with a start, reused
by the clock on the chimney piece, which
had . peculiar ringing, clear sound, Strik
ing g. sat upward with jerk and looked
around 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 it that, as gazed at it, | uttered a
low exclamation, and then shut my eyes,
thinking that sleep must still be retaining its
power 0vsr me, and that must be dreaming
q strange, fantastic drean2
But no, certainly was not dreaming, for
there 1t was just AS it had been before Fix
my eyes as steadily as | might upon the mir
ror, with all my wakeful energies concen-
trated upon 10 in eagerness, it was still there.
looked away, and fastened my look for a
minute 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 aiso-it would not
go, do what | would.
What / saw was certainly no alarming
vision, though its appearance there in the
mirror, over my dining room chimney piece,
was remarkable and startling enough, to say
the least OF it. In the middle of the glass,
which in its other parts reflected simply and
naturally the commonplace objects in the
room, chairs and tables and window curtain,
there appeared a small but wildly distinct
picture Of house aud garden. 1t was very
pretty house, its front covered on one side
with . green oreeper, which was spangled
with starry white blossoms, and on the other
with fresco such as ] had heard described
rs existing on the walls of houses of Italy,
where l had never been-a freSco represent
ing an old woman sitting with basket of
oranges at her feet
There were four windows, two upstairs and
two down, exactly over each other; they
were all half shaded with green blinds, and /
could see that the top one, on the right hand
side, was slightly open. Up the garden
there ran broad gravel walk, with soft
fresh turf, gemmed with flower beds on
either side of it. The Enclosure was fenced
round with a rather high wooden paling and
in one corner of it there stood a summer
house with a quantity shaped roof, that had
something of a pagoda about il. Over the
whole there was spread q SOFT, slvery hight,
rs though bright, full moon was shining
down upon it. A yellow CLEAN, as of a lamp
burning within, stole through the open win
dows aud mingled with the white rays with
out
l Laid my fingers on my pulse. Was going
fast into a raging fevers Ny pulses were as
steady as they were when ! rose that morn
ing after nights sound sleep. l tested my
brain by going through, in my mind, all the
symptoms and features in a difficult and per-
picking case which had been lately under my
care, my 0nlu acted as CoOiiy anu c2Inlly and
Regularly as it had ever done.
II repeated TO myself several passages of
poetry from different authors in different
languages; they came quickly ami easily
TO my tongue Is if had been reading from
printed book ! gazed around and fixed
my eyes on various objects in the room to see
whether i should be subjected to other
optical illusions, but in other points my eyes
were as reasonable as they usually were;
they showed ME nothing but the familiar
chair and table, and the well known pattern
of the paper on tine wall Then | looked
back 1t the mirror. The house was still
there
Had been reading lately description of
such house or had lately seen anywhere
picture like itf Either of these things might
possibly have left vivid impression upon
my mind which might haze accounted for the
etrsnge d..usion. was not, however. able
to recollect. search my memory as / would,
that a book or painting had brought such a
house and garden before my thoughts. | was
naturally neither excitabie nor imaginative;
indeed, was generally regarded by every
one who knew me. and myself into the bar
gain, Is one OF the most prossic, rational
beings in the world
Ny fancy had never before played me the
smallest trick, even as rode home worn out
with watching by sick bed, ON the darkest
Of death and through which my professional
life had led me. Ia the disecting room, in
the severess operation, my hand had always