The Houma courier. (Houma, La.) 1878-1939, 1890-03-15

folly of such an act, and father grew 1Rlfly
angry at the mention OF 1t.
He threatened to disinherit me if l per
sisted in clingiDg to my relatives. Ot
course dared not directly disobey hlm,
but | was tired of my close confinement at
White Hall, and longed for a taste OF the
moving. living world. Sermons and songs
had grown old to me, and then longed
for the freedom l had when q child.
Rose was too busy now thinking Of her
own happiness to give me much attention.
so | found chance to manage my own al
fairs about as l pleased.
We were all going for a grand fishing
trip. It was to be on the lakes near the
river, not more than four miles from Long
Branch.
This was my chance. l would steal
away from the party and go back to
Grannie.
had never so wiIlfulIy deceived any
one in my life, but | felt capable OF almost
anything just now.
people. 1t was so with me-. had been
shut up in White Hall till | wanted a
change, and l was determined to have it.
1t IS enough to say our fishing party had
a rain to encounter on the way, as Is the
case on all such expeditions.
However, the sun shown brightly the
next day, and the hot steam from the
ground was the most unpleasant feature OF
the occasion.
stayed and enjoyed the camp, until the
last night | crept cautiously along the
springy mud down to the deep lake.
Leaving there my plaid shawl and init
tens to tell that l had drowned, l hastily
made my escape toward Long Branch.
For some time | was not weary, and ran
along up the broad, muddy road in great
plee, But as | came nearer the city limits
the quiet of my journey became broken at
times. even at that dead hOur Of the night.
Now a cart would come rafting by, then
| a footman, a wagon, a dog, then both, and
| then that awful stiffness of morning
had carefully concealed myself behind
the thickets all the way, but now the moon
was drawing aside her curtains, and eyed
me from her lofty seat in the Sky. She
seemed to say, Oh, for shame, Monte
Kingl"
High on either side rose the hills, Gov
cred with tall, dark trees, and over the
| bluff | could hear the familiar sound OF
the putting engines.
trembIed in every limb, and stsrted at
every noise. l thought should never
get there.
Along the outskirt sidewalks hurrying
men began to pass me for it was now
about four o'clock in the morning
felt the old stir of the city take posses
| sion of me, and with that strange interest
that attaches itself to old things, strolled
| down the street in delight.
| walked down the track and up the
bluff to Granrie's. Thesmall window had
no light. | felt somewhat timid about
knocking, lest l startle her, and not know
ing me she might alarm the neigb0rs. And
| was not so delighted at the sight Of The
old shanty as | had thought would be.
| had half a notion to start back to the
camp, but | was very tired and could not
possibly get back before they would awake
and find ne gone. So l turned slowly
away and followed our old path up the
bluff. 1t was very dark up there among
the trees, although the moon and sun were
both in the sky.
This seemed to be a very quiet spot, anc
resting myself against the trunk Of a largt
tree, l fell asleep, my rovings at an enc
and my comforter come.
Well, | slept there till morning brought
& policeman around the bluff settlement
and finding me penniless and without NEAR
of support, handed me in at the public
station as q vagrant.
There ( was locked up for a hearing il
the police court.
l would give no reasons for being in the
town, and this made n officers more sus-
~picious. As | was proven to be a stranger
and being a woman, and no charge being
brought against me, | was turned out aDC
z.Io-1J - 1onra 4In tr..y, D1y1afiatGlU
This | was not long in doing, and sadly
and in repentance turned my steps towarc
White Hall.
felt my disgrace and knew too well thu
displeasure of my father. All along the
way 1 made up strange stories to accoun
for my absence, but none of them looked
plausible, so | dared not present them.
Nearer and nearer | came to White
Hall, farther and farther drew my pow
ers to think on any subject, and at last
stood with my foot on my fathers door
step unable to go any farther.
Just then my father came up. He looked
at me in blank surpri7e, then passed int
the house without a word.
What could this mean? | knew thel
that he had heard of my deception, anC
had cast me away in wrath. Now | de-
SCINEuEi lCib Ivy IiACnOIVFDANpCs L WIN
pelled myself to walk into the house anC
up to my room, which was just as | lef
it. Supper was called presently; | started
but could not go down. saw Rose pas
through the hall, l tried to follow bu
could not move. l sat and waited aGC
wondered, would some one not come TO
ME. But no one came. The sense of for
sakeusess so utterly Oveycame me that
wept, and bitterly, too.
Affairs continued so through the mex
day, till at night l was so hungry cpult
stand it no longer. When the bell rang
went down. No sign of recognition greetet
me. There was a dead silence in on
house, which | knew was no favorable
omen.
ate at the table without SO much as be
ing spoken to. My father did not lift hi!
eyes from the plate. 1t was a dreadful
ordeal to subject a young girl to, but M
father thought it best.
DR.. Miller came in while we were yet a
supper. l felt like running out to Sc,
him, but something held me fast.
"Ah, Doctor" he said as he advanced t.
meet father, Il called to congratulate yOl
and extend you my best sympathies il
your new-found joy. 1t is surely almos
as the return of the dead. Yet you bea
it."
"Ah, YOU do not speak correctly. NJ.
daughter was lost in the lakes. VIVA
phantoms of her may have returned.
know not; but she is not in this world"
DR.. Miller looked astounded when | en-,
tered the room, and greeted me as bes
he could. But my father did not appea
to observe me.
As DR.. Miller ventured to talk with me
my father remarked:
"Why, Doctor, do you talk with ghosts
AS l have an engagement for the ever
ing, / must go; you will please excus
me" and added in 8 sarcastic way, "Yol
can find entertainment with your ghosts