The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1891-01-08

twisters. ! did not even then, fea
that ] should be left to pass the nigh
at the school-house, and so sat, anx
ious, yet expecting, "to be called
for" like poor Barkis' box OF ole
cloths, at any moment.
| took out my Nirgil-for ! en-
deavored to keep up my studies ever
while teaching-and tried to con
strue some lines OF the fourth book
Seven o'clock Now | was becom
ing nervous. A little later the out
er door opened suddenly and / heard
q heavy and prolonged stamping il
the shed. Someone had come al
last.
jumped up, shut the stove, threw
on my cloak, and was about to ex.
tinguish the light, when in walked
not Uncle John, cor anyone whom
had ever seen, but tall, broad
shouldered stranger. His clothing,
his grizzled, bushy beard and his
long, abundant hair were blown full
of snow.
Without seeming to notice me, he
dropped upon the front dench an old
satchel which he carried, came hur-
riedly to the stove, and briskly rub
bed his hands and ears.
For n moment | was too aston
ished to speak; then recovering my
voice, | asked if Uncle John had sent
him to take me home. He looked at
me steadily, and then, without an
swering my question; walked out OF
the room. hoped he had left the
school-house, but presently | heard
him lock the outside door, and as he
came in he put the key in his pocket.
My strange visitor threw off his
cap and coat, and began to drum in
u lively tune with his fingers on the
stovepipe, while his ey es wandered
restlessly around the room. He had
not spoken, save to mutter few I'M
Ineligible words as he came in.
Who was this man, and why did
he lock the door and behave so odd
ly? 1t was easy to see that there
was "screw loose" and soon be-
came convinced that he was not
merely eccentric but insanel look
ed at him in alarm, and it was with
the greatest difficulty that | kept
myself from succumbing altogether
to the faintness with which | had
been struggling since his abrupt en-
trance.
leaned back in my chair and shut
my eyes. How would it all end?
How could live through the night,
for now | realized that it was useless
to expect any one to come to me.
TO be sure, my companion had thus
far betrayed no symptoms of violent
insanity, but had heard that luna
tics --oiten become dangerous from
the slightest irritation, or if they
detect evidence OF timidity on the
part of person in their presence.
Accordingly | tried to summon cour-
age for the emergency.
| opened my eyes. The mailman
stood within yard of me STOPPING
forward, with his black eyes riveted
upon my facet Despite my resolve
to be calm and courageous, | invol-
UNFAIRLY leaped from the chair and
sprang to the opposite side of the
stove. My strange caller shouted
with laughter, holding his sides and
doubling himself up with merriment
Then putting on Il cunning look, he
asked:
"Can you dancer"
By this time had recovered N.Y.
self and saw that l must be both
cool and watchful. SO long as he
was not violent | could safely humor
him, and thus perhaps ! might find
my opportunity to outwit him. At
all events, however frightened
might be, | must not let him perceive
my terror.
Forcing look of pleasure to my
face and laugh into my voice, re-
piled, "Oh, yes, | am good dancer"
"Uml uni OF course. Spry as a
weasell Fine chancep'
While saying this he rummaged
briskly in the depths of his old satch-
ell, and brought out varied assert
ment of odd things. There was
bag of pumpkin seeds, which no
opened and poured on the table, a long
piece OF rope, and roll of clippings
from the newspapers, and finally an
old pair of dentists forceps, with
which he joyously offered to pull nv
teeth-a proposition which declined
with a peal of laughter which | am
afraid would not have sounded like
natural laughter to anyone but my
lunatic friend.
who'd II thought I'd forgot my
fiddle!" he exclaimed at last with a
scowl, diving his hand from one
corner TO another in the empty bag,
as If the missing musical instrument
might be lurking in some small
nook.
Then he jumped to his feet gave
the satchel II kick, which sent it
flying nearly to the ceiling, and ca
.pered about the room, while his long
hair tossed like name of q wild
horse.
Cant you whistler" l suggested.
"Sure enough, so | canl Good
grip he exclaimed, and he began
whlstling as he stood in the altitude
OF violinist, and playing an imagin-
airy fiddle, bowling and lingering as
If it were real. Frightened rs | was,
| could not help admiring the precis-
ion and melody with which the quick
notes were shot from his lips.
"Step outl' he commanded.
Strange as it may seem, was be-
ginning to see the humor of the stu
talon, but, in any event. should
not have dared to disobey him.
| rose and attempted to execute a
small shuttle.
"Fusterl Smarterl" he kent