The Pascagoula democrat-star. (Pascagoula, Miss.) 1878-1920, 1891-08-21

a healthy reaction; but activity v
now seemed impossible. lie ha,l
consumed his vital powers too fal
in advance.
Clifford had apartments in a
fashionable family hotel. They
were for his wife. She was. So far
as mind was concerned, all inferi-
or woman, whom he had married
when he had yet lQ toll for his and
her bread. His later course of
life had made him as impolenl in
mind and soul us In body, as he no
longer loved; but she, pure and
simple, still worshiped at his po-
luted shrine.
She had often besought him with
a feeble earnestueSs not TO leaYe
her alone, not 10 ruin himself
with inloXicants, but he loathed
her, and so strongly that one night
when she put out her arms TO him
he struck her to lie floor.
There she lay just beneath The
chandelier, and the light streamed
down over her face. showing
long brnise across the temple.
The something with which Cliff
ford had struck the blow-he did
not know what it was-droppeG TO
the floor. 1t startled him. The
effect Of the inloXlcants passed
rapidly away, and he realized
what he had done. Bending over,
he looked iniO her face. She was
dead. He was sure of it. Such was
he force of guilt that he looked
around to see if any one saw. Ii
was very still, and he heard the
ticking of the clock. 1t struck the
hour-twO short, quick strokes.
Murder it said III silver tones.
II was a mockery TO speak thal
word so merrily. Clifford shud.
dered and fled into the street.
1t was very late. There was no
one in sight but a cabman, who
shouted Cab, sirp as Clifford
rushed by. On he went, not
knowing or caring where. He
met an occasional pedestrian.
There was no life in the great
buildings, except in two newspa-
per offices, whose two Top stories
were beaming with light. Cliff,
ford hurried on through the bril-
hdnt deserted streets until he was
ready TO drop from exhaustion,
Where should he go? Anywhere
but To those accursed rooms where
lay his dead wife.
Without having intentionally di-
rected his Steps there he found |
before railway leading |
to IN artist friends studio. He |
knew that when his crime was
discovered this studio would be
the first place searched for him.
lie did not care for that. Besides,
here was ether there, and under
rs influence he could laugh and
iream. and forget his misery.
Up the stairway and along The
nall he lottered, trembling in every
imb. Having constant admit
ance to the studio, he had a key.
Unlocking The door he went in.
There was fire burning in the
rate. There was a ether-plenty
,f ton the mantel. He placed
he vessel on a small table in
ront of the fire, sank into a big
halr and put his feet on The fen
Ter.
Oh, how much of those mirthful
umes he breathed, and how rapid
y! He forgot his crime. He he ,
AN to laugh. There was the fire :
efore him with his feet between !
i'm and it. They began TO recede
rom him and dance about in the
1nniest way. HIS feet soon SEEM =,
d to be separated from his body, :
nd they bowed to each other.
hey seemed TO be little beings /,
Tho could move and speak. And /
'lillord laughed, or thought he q
until The room rang. 4
lie was asleep now, but during /,
ne short period of unconscious /,
ess strange visions were dancing !;
/ his brain. =
There were The two little beings {
ways between him and The fire. /
me had a comical, bloated face, r
18th eyes that stuck out and nose f
lat was very red. The other was O
ladowy. Clifford could see the a
)als and the bars of the crate I
ght through him. Yet, strange il s
as, that red and grinning face {
lat made him laugh, and that C
bostly one that awed him. looked
cry much alike. He could even t
ear them talking. {
"You did it," chattered The CON- n
al little chap, every feature so Il
istorted with fear and rage that 4
lofford thought he laughed i'm n
Moderately; but he was asleep and v
cry, very still. 4
"You did it," shouted The little d
'd.faced man again and again. \
You look sanity, but you are a
evilish. You drove me to it. Am | d
} blame? Would | have done it
you had been pures Not l /: q
nj you are The leader. What am s
but flesh and bloods What am
but clay, tn be molced as yon
ills You should be the better 5
art, but you are devilsh. l am {;
II 10 blame" o
But The little mans chattering o