The farmers' union. (Memphis, Mo.) 1891-1895, 1891-06-11
BURIED ALIVE.
EY CAY HE MAtrASSiNT.

dining hall of the hotel and sat down at
their places. The waters began their
serving quite leisurey, in order to give
the be!ated ones time to arrive and to
save themselves the trouble OF bringing
back the dishes: the old bathers. the
habitueS, with whom the season was far
advanced, kept an alert watch Ii, on the
door each time 1t was opened. hoping
for the appearance If fresh faces.
That is the chief distraction Of water
ing-places. We go to dinner to inspect
the daily arrivals, TO wonder who they
are. what thew do, and what they
think. \ restless desire takes posses
sion of Us, a longing for pleasant adven-
lures, for friendly acquaintances, for
lovers, perhaps. In this elbow to-elbow
sort OF life, our Ill known neIghbors as
sumo extreme Importance. Curiosity
is aroused, sympathy is on the alert,
and he social instinct is active.
We have hatreis for a week and
friendships for month; We view men
with other eves, through the special OPP
ties of a Watering place acquaintance
Suddenly, during an hours talk after
dinner, under the trees in the park,
where bubbles up 4 hea ing spring, We
discover men of superior Intelligence
and surprising merit. and, q month
later, we have completely forgotten
these new friends. So charming at first
sight.
There also, more quickly than any
where else, are formed grave and last
ling lies. We see each other every
day, know each other very soon, and IN
the affection that springs mp is mingled
something of the sweet abandon OF old
intimates. Later or tender recollec-
tlons are cherished of the first hours of
friendship, of the first communion in
which the soul was brought to light, of
the first looks that questioned and re-
sponded to the in.errogatorie, and Sc
cret thoughts the lips had not yet ut
tered. of the first cordial confidence,
and that charming sensation of opening
ones heart to some one who also seems
to lay bare his own to you.
Then, too, the very dullness, the
monotony OF days exactly alike, hourly
renders more complete the unfolding
of friendships flower.
That evening, then, as every evening.
we awaittd tie entrance of unfamiliar
faces.
There came only two. but very strange
ones, those of manora woman-father
and daughter. They reminded me at
once Of some of Edgar Poe's characters :;
and yet there was an attraction about
them, an unpleasant attraction: | set
them down as tie victims OF some
fatality. The gentleman was very tail
and spare, slightly bent, with hair quite
white, too white for fi5 still vonng
countenance; there WAS in his carriage
and about his person the serious air Of
ausierity that be,reaks the Puritan.
The daughter was, perhaps. about
twenty-four CT twenty-five Years of age
She was small aud cnaciated, and her
exceedingly pale face swore,a langui,l,
sriritless expressicn.7 We sometimes
encounter people who appear too weak
for the cares and demands OF life, too
feeble to move, to do tue things we
must DO every day. This girl was
pretty, with the transparent beauty of
an apparition; she ate with extreme
slowness, as ii she were almost incap-
able ofmoying her arms.
1t was she undoubtedly who came for
the benefit of the waters.
They happened to be opposite me,
on the other side of the table; and |
Immediately noticed that the father had
very singular nervous aiiiction.
Whenever he was about to reach fer
anything, his hand. with Il quick Jerk,
described sort OF fiuttering zieZag be-
fore he wss able to touch what he was
after. In p few moments this motion
annoyed NE SO much that tnrned away
my head IN order not to see him.
1 also Observed that the Young girl
kept glove on her left hand while she
ate.
After dinner. ] went out to take a
turn in the park belonging to the water
cure establishment. 1t extended to the
little station OF Auvergne. Chatel-
Guyon, hidden iii gorge at the foot Of
high mountain, from which run so
many bubbling springs, hot from the
deep furnace of old volcanoes. Over
there, beyond lis, the domes, extinct
craters, raised their mutiated heads
above the long chain. Clatel- -Guyon
begins the land of "Donles."
Beyond the "Domes" are two other
distinct regions, tie one of needie-like
peaks and the other of abrupt, precipit-
Gus mountains.
The Puy de Dome is the highest Of
the craters. tie Pic du Sancv the most
elevated of the Peaks. and the PlomI
du Cantai is the greatest of the last
tyre of mountains
1t was very warm that evening. ]
was walking back and forth in the
shady path. listening to the music pour
ing forth from the casino Gu mound
that overlook ed the park.
perceived the father and daughter
coming toward Inc with slow steps.
saiuted them as, in Watering places,
one saIutes his hotel companions, the
gentleman, stopping Immediately, in-
quired of me:
Pardon me, sir, may 1 ask if you can
direct us to a short walk, easy and
pretty if possible?7
I offered TO conduct them myself tc
the valley through whic! the slende,
river hows-a deep. narrow gorge be
tween two great decliyiiies, rocky and
wooded.
They accepted.
And, naturally enough, We spoke o1
the virtue of the mineral waters.
"Ah, yes" said he, my daugater has
strange malady, the seat of which hel
physicians are unable to determine
She suffers from incomprehe,Isible
nervous symptoms. Sometimes they
think her afflicted with heart disease