News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1890-05-15
THE NIGHTMARE.

IHE NIUHIMARE.
By the house in which spent my
childhood years was a large, wild
garden, stretching as far as the crum-
bling ivy covered city wall, and was
called the convent garden. Probably
the piece of ground had an owner, but
| I did not know him | considered the
garden my hunting ground, gayly
chased the rose bugs, which swarmed
| about the elderberry bushes, and with
a net captured swallow tail butterflies,
which summed themselves on the bios
soming onion stalks.
But there was something more that
drew me to the convent garden.
Leaning against the city wall, and
glued to it like a chimney swallows
nest, was a little dilapidated house.
The mortar had fallen away from the
walls here and there, showing the
framework. House leeks grew on the
roof, and OH the walls hung wire
cages, in which finches sang their
plaintivc wood songs and big cross
bills climbed restlessly up and down.
In front of the house magpie, which
had lost its tail feathers. was usually
hopping about.
In this little house lived the old
Zapf, and the old Zapf and I had
struck up friendship
Who was old Zapf?
Properly speaking he was a shoe
maker. but he had not worked at his
trade for long time.
Having become poor and needy, he
trained bullfnches, linnets and other
birds, made wire cages and prepared
bird lime But that brought him only
a sorry profit; and if it had not been
for his wife he would have been
obliged to go hungry oftener than he
really did. Mrs. Zapf was in great
demand. Nobody in the city could do
fine washing as well as she. Besides
she cleansed gloves and removed
grease spots from wearing apparel
with fluid of her own invention. She
W as a strong woman, with broad hips, |
a very ugly face, and she could scold |
like a Turk But one did not notice |
that, for, as has already been said, she |
was "A clever woman. She worked
early and late, but still there was often
enough a very scanty supply of food
III the house, and the poor old Zapf
had few happy days
My mother occasionally would send
him something from the pantry. and
at such times | was the bearer. Then
| would sit down in rickety wooden
chair, and the old man would bring
out one OF his trained birds, or tell me
a ghost story, which ! liked still bet
ter. What lent to these ghost stories
a peculiar charm was the fact that the
narrator had experienced them all
himself. But if | should write down
the tenth part of them, it would make
a book larger than the Bible.
One day, in the late autumn, old
Zapf looked out of the window, beck
oned to me and said: ''If you did but
know it, neighbor, today is my seven
tieth birthday; but don't tell human
being" whereupon | ran straight to
my mother to tell her the news. My
good mother smiled, and little later
| was hurrying through the convent
garden toward the old mans house,
laden with Il loaf of bread, little bot
tie of cherry brandy, package of to-
bacco and little SUM of money,
The old man scolded me smilingly
on account of my tattling, tasted the
drink, nodded his gray head with sat
isfaction and turned to his work again.
That consisted in plucking some gold
hammers whose necks he had wrung.
Really" he said, lit is sin to take
a singing birds life, bat this one is
very common nuisance, so there IS no
harm in it. When he no longer finds
anything to eat in the fields, he flies
to the barns screaming: Hire me!
hire mer And after he has spent the
whole winter long fattening with the
farmers, and spring comes, then he
flies away, crying: Farmer keep
your wages So | have no scruples
about wringing the mean little crea-
lures neck, and besides the fellow
tastes very good But | need a little
butter or fat for broiling them. How
would it do, neighbor, if you were to
90 to your mother and ask her for
little butter; she would not deny youH
| brought what was required; the
birds were broiled and half hour later
we sat opposite one another at the fes-
tival meal and were in high spirits.
Don't eat too much brown bread!'
admonished the old man. 1T is too
heavy for your delicate stomach, and
if you should overload it the night
mare would come and oppress you.
Do you know it2"
"Of course l 10. When you are ly-
ing in bed asleep, it crouches on your
breast, SO that you can't get your
breath, and it looks like a black cat
with fiery eyes"
SIS that so?" said old Zapf Does
it come to you like black cat2 When
it comes to me, it looks quite different
Iassure you"
''Tell me about it, neighbor," l
begged, ard Mr.. Zapf, after a sip of
the brandy, began:
81 was working for a master shoe
maker in this place and was
healthy young fellow. One night
the nightmare came to me-, and
when | told the master and appren-
tees about it the next morning, the
master said: Don't eat SO many pota-
toes for supper, and drink little less
beer, and the nightmare will let you
alone The others laughed, and was
silent, for an apprentice must not con
tradict the master. Now among the
iourneymen was very old man, who
seldom stayed long with any one mas
ter, and had spent half his life on the
road from one place to another. lie
had travelled about the world a good
deal and had advice to give for every