Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-05-31
NY GREAT HCLE'S DOUBLE.

After his ninety-frst birthday my great
uncle William seemed, all of sudden, t
discover his great age, and to feel thu
weight of his many years. The wonderful
health which he had always enjoyed brok'
down, he grew thin and he lost stature
My father had secretly to give his tailor
instructions to make the old gentleman
new dressing gown two inches shorter
than the last one, for he was forever tread
ing on its edges and stumbling. The old
man lost his interest, too, in one thing
after another of the many that had never
hitherto ceased to engage his attention
His favorite books lay open unregarded
on his knees, and his remarkable gift Of
narration-he was a rare story-teller
graphic, rapid, thrilling-deserted him
And he slept more and more; slept late
in the mornings, after his usual time fol
rising, slept longer than ever in the after.
moons, and yet fell asleep again immedi.
ately after dinner. My uncle Owen, the
pkilologist, quoted Richard Role de
Hampole,
"An alderman to dede drawand
May noght wake, bot es ay slepand,"
And my father talked about ''the thir.
tenth climacteric," and all of US, nephews
and nieces, great nephews and nieces and
great-great-neph and nieces, felt very
sorry for what we could see was coming
for we were all deeply attached to the
dear old man.
l say this by way of preface, in order
that those who prefer to explain such
phenomena as l am going to relate as the
mere waking dreams of an old, old man
fast sinking beneath the spell of the last
great sleep, may do so if they chose. Ny
own opinion-but that is no part of my
story.
When the spring came the medical man
recommended change of air-the Berk-
shire pine country. So my great uncle
went into Berkshire, and l with him. |
was his favorite great-nephew, and do
not mind confessing that l was proud of it.
The change of air did the old man good.
Our lodgings were comfortable, and the
weather fine. Ny uncle recovered some
of his old spirits and was able to take
several constituents"
One afternoon as we returned from our
walk our landlord met US at the door, and,
touching his forehead, said to my uncle:
~ beg your pardon, sir, but there is an
old lady here who would much like to
speak to you, if you have few minutes to
spare, sir. 1t is my grandmother"
My uncle assented, and we followed our
host into his wifes parlor. As we entered,
gray, toothless, withered old dame rose
from her place by the fire and courtesied
to u.s.
"Gou don't remember me, sir" she said
to my uncle as soon as he had sat down
"But | remember you, sir. l was Miss
Jessy's maid, sir, at Northbrook. Do you
remember, sir, in 1Sl4?'
My uncle looked up quickly.
"Ann?" he asked with surprise.
"Yes, sir," answered the old dame, with
smile of pleasure at finding herself re-
membered. II recollect your coming to
Northbrook, sir, in 1914, in the Easte,
week. And when my grandson told me
that gentleman of the name of Gibson
was come TO stay with him, thought at
once of you, sir. And then, when l saw
you in church last Sunday, / said, why,
and that is the very same Mr.. Gibson, now,
Pm sure But" she concluded deferen-
TALLY, you're grown in years, sir"
"Well," thought /, "since 1914, natu.
rally"
But was listening with great curiosity
For all of US knew that my great-uncle
William had secret, though what the
nature of that secret was no one had any
idea. Only my father had heard from his
father that some fifty or sixty years since
Uncle William would, now and then, in
conversation with his elder brother Dick
obliquely allude to a certain Jessy, respect
ing whom Uncle Dick was always pro.
foundly reticent. My great-uncle Dicks
death took place in the twenties, | have
forgotten exactly when, and since that
Uncle William had never named Jessy
But now it seemed probable that / might
hear something about this mysterious
lady.
"And where are you now living, Ann ?''
asked my great-uncle.
The old woman replied that she still
lived at Northbrook. My uncle went on
to ask about her history / began to be-
lieve that, after all, he meant nothing tc
be said about 'Miss Jessy." But presently
he inquired:
"And the old place at Northbrook, 'Tht
Cottage, and the garden, and the glebe
and the rookery, do they all remain tn,
same?"
They built some new houses in the gar
den of The Cottage some ten years back
SIR answered the old woman. Sane
after that they pulled The Cottage down
But the glebe, and the rookery, they re
main the same STILL"
A full minute passed before my incl,
spoke again.
And Miss Gwynne," he asked withou
any apparent emotion, "she married? Sh,
is not alive now, / suppose? You and
have lived to be such old folks, Ann, tina
there is scarcely any one whom we knew
left
"Ah no, sir,' answered the old dam,
dreamily. "But Miss Jessey, sir, died il
1919. You never heard of it,"
''lS19w exclaimed my uncle. sBut sh,
was married only in--in-"
''In 1917, sir; in June, three years an,
two months after you came.''
"Yes, yes; / know it was about tina
time answered my uncle, with somethin;
like shade of Impotence.
/ was impressed by the way in whicl
the old dame dated the marriage from tn,
time of my uncle's visit.
lou never came again, sir, she vent
ured to remark now, finding that m,
uncle asked no more questions.
No, my uncle admitted, he had no
called again.
Miss Jessy used to say, sir, that you
would come some day. Some day, Ann
some day, she used to say to me. You'll
see, Ann, that some day Mr.. Gibson will
come again.
Tell me about her marriage said 10,
uncle, changing the subject. 'She mar
ried Mr. Morgan ?"
"1es, sir. After all, she married Nj
Morgan Morgan. 1t was to Mrs Morgan,
his mothers, that she went to dinner tina
day you came, sir. Perhaps you remem
ber?