Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-11-19
LYDD1'S FINAL TIKI T. NJ PH.

years ago.
The house in which | went to DO ard was
one Of the most lonesome places magma
able A low, rambling farm dwelling,
surrounded by woods, fields and meadows.
No other house was Ia sight, AMI the
road in each direction lost itself in dense
growth OF trees. A turn of the road d
quarter of nile away brought one to the
school house, church, halt dozen dwell
lungs and the one store of the place.
The family with which | boarded con-
sisted of Mr. Enoch Biaire, an itinerant
preacher, with a fair education, but All in
herited dislike Of work, his wife, Mary,
M Of the best women / ever knew d
thorough housewife, with sound, practical,
common sense, pure, earnest love OF re
ljgeon, which she expressed in deeds more
often than words, and their son, Jen,
seventeen Years of age
One evening, after ] had been a member
# the fan lily several weeks, and the
strained relations of schoolma-am and
boarding mistress had worn away, Mrs.
Baire asked me to bring my books into
the kitchen and sit with her. Jem had
gone to bed with toothache, and Eno1h
was at a revival meeting in the next dis,
trict. He would not be home until very
ate and she was going to sit up for him
accepted the invitation gladly, for the
bright cheerful kitchen, was my delight
it was 50 spotlessly clean and homelike,
he pleasantest room in the house. 4
warm fire added to the cheerfulness, for
fail nights had grown chilly.
Mrs. Blaire did up" her dishes, brush
ed the floor, strained the milk. while |
looked over the next days lessons; theH
we drew our chairs nearer the fire for one
Of the talks had grown to enjoy 50 much.
What shall we talk about?' said Mrs.
Blajre, as she clicked her knitting needles
"Religion?"
This WAS her favorlte theme, and loved
to hear her express her Baptist views Of
life and death. So let her talk, till al
length | l-oked at the clock. It marked
IL 30.
"Wherc can Enoch be?' said Mrs
B'aire, gathering up h>r work, "He was
n,:ver so late before"
She arose, went to the window and
peered out into the intense darkness,
shlvered slightly, come back and threw a
few sticks on the fire. We set some time
IN silence, watching the sparks fly out
through the hearth of the cooking stove
The old clock III the corner etruckaathe
hour of II with slow, deliberate strokes
A sudden breeze sprang up and swung
a shutter to with loud clatter. Then all
vas fearfulIy still, when slowly and dis
! tinrtly from the far distance came d low,
| musical sound.
Nearer and nearer it came, louder and
| louder it grew, until the whole room was
iEled with the sweet melody. 1t was sing
ing, but singing such as had never heard
before. The words were unipteliible. but
the sentiment was of Joy and happy re-
joicing.
faded away as they had come. | could not
overhead or under feet. The melody was
palnable feeling of awe. | turned to look
at Mrs. BIaire. Her face was ashen. The
lines about her mouth were tightly drawn,
and the nervous hand that grasped the
! back Of her chair shook visibly.
A feeling that ] could not account for Of
wishing to shut out the night prompted
windows and come closer to the warmth
and did before asked:
Did you hear anything, Mrs, Blairc?
Yes, | heard, " murmured Mrs. Biaire,
III scarcely more than a whisper.
ut couidn' have been Jem," ] asserted
but to satisfy myself went to The stair.
! way and listened. | heard only
the hard, regular breathing of a heavy
sleeper.
What was it Mrs. BIair?" | asked
arain.
Mrs. Blair had resumed her accustomed
placid expression and said, with light
reassuring laugh:
"Oh. it was nothing at ALL Come, lei
US go to bed. We will not sit up longer
for Enoch. | will come in and sill
with YOU till you go to sleep, if you want
me to-"
said was not in the least afraid. But
lay awake for long time, wondering
over the strange scene. i felt sure Mrs
Blaire had story and | wanted to hear
it.
Though NOT believer in spirits, any.
thing supernatural had strange fascina
tion for me.
Mrs Blaire and were left alone again
the next evening. As we again drew
our chairs Up before tie cracking fire.
my companion said, without any intro
duction:
THE STORY OF MRS. BLAIKE.
My dear, M going to tell you strange
story
! | did not speak.
Twenty years ago my only sister, then
a beautiful girl of eighteen, married. Just
! fifteen months after she and her baby Cir
were buried in one coffin. Before my sister
died she discovered that her bosom friend
| Lyddy Baker. had cared for her John and
bad hoped to marry him. We all knew
John had never shown Lyddy any atten.
ton, out she tried to make Sarah think
| he had-said her life was wrecked and
much of that kind 9 talk. Sarah Wa;
sick and nervous and it made Der very IN
happy, and have not doubt that it has
tened her death. John was wrapped ur
liz Sarah; any one could see that. He wa:
kindness itself to her. Ii nearly broke his
heart when she died. Bad as felt my.
self | felt sorrier for him. IT'S awful
to see strong man so unstrung
Every one mourned for Sarah 5u
Lyddy. 1t never seemed to me she cared
much
well one morning, about year after
Sarah died, John came down to breakfast
looking SO haggard and white that was
frightened. l asked him what was the
matter. He shook his head, out wien We
were alone he told ne that he could moi
sleep the night before, so he got up ano