Connecticut western news., 1892-05-26

him my puzzling negative. The moment he saw it he dropped into seat on the bench beside him as if he had been shot, trembling like frightened animal and with look of terror in his eyes. In a moment or so he found his breath and gasped:
 "Good God, it's Miss Annier
 "You may imagine my surprise. The old man looked at me and at the picture with a scared look, as if he suspected me of some unholy relation with the devil.
 But after awhile he calmed down a little. and good stiff drink from a flask happened to have in my pocket seemed to brace him up and persuade him that l was not an imp in disguise, and after awhile succeeded in getting the follow ing explanation from him. which will condense for you, not trying to repro duce his words and his Scotch accent:
 During the war of the rebellion MT. S. lived in this house with his wife and an only daughter. Miss Annie, beautiful girl, who was about twenty years old at the time of which l am speaking. She was the idol of the fam fly and loved by all who knew her. She was to have been married to John R, fine young fellow who lived near by. but when the call for volunteers was made her lover went off to the war. She was almost overcome with anxiety for him, for her heart had gone with him. One day soon after one of the early bat tles-l forget which one-my friend the gardener came up from the town with a telegram. He met Miss Annie coming down the stairway and gave her the message. She stopped on the landing, opened the envelope and read the tele- gram.
 ''She stood perfectly still for an in- stant as if she could not realize it and then-the gardener was just in time to save her from falling, as she tainted. The telegram announced the death of Lieutenant John R, killed on the battlefield. Miss Annie never recovered from the shock, and she died insane in a few months. Her mother soon followed her, and Mir. S- left the town, a lonely, brokenhearted man, and never has returned. The place has never been rented because it is said that the un- fortunate girls spirit haunts the house, and especially the stairway, where she heard the news of her lovers death. l had photographed the ghost.
 "Now that knew the story of the girl that picture took a stronger hold on me than before and the mystery was only intensified. l could not get rid of that face. It haunted me more surely thai the poor girls ghost ever haunted the stairway. and could not shake off the fascination. In short, had fallen in love with ghost, and l envied that Lieutenant John R-.
 Tt was a horribly uncanny feeling, but calling myself an ass did not help me to forget the face. And then the puzzle of it all, the problems it suggest ed. Could it be that the camera was able to open a new world to us? Was its unerring vision clear enough to pierce the mists of a spirit land and as- sure us of the reality of ghost? And if so, how was it to be explained? Ilaid the matter before the Society for Psychi- cal Research, but they only talked a long time about it without suggesting much, and for all 1 know they're at i, yet. But l never shook off the spell of that phantom face"
 Robinson paused a moment, lost in a far away dream. Brown, the skeptic, at length aroused him with q short "Well;' Robinson lit fresh cigar and continued
 'For a week after my return that picture, the mystery and the beautiful face had such an effect on me that it al most unfttod me for work. and 1 was heartily glad when Johnson came back. 1 told the whole thing to him and then showed him my strange picture. He was much interested in the story, but when he saw the picture l caught a wicked twinkle in his eye. After mo- ment he drawled out provokingly: "'Yes, strange; very strange. The old man seemed to see q resemblance. But, Robinson, you might as well return me my camera-you evidently took mine instead of your own that day. Your mysterious phantom beauty is my sister Kate. You took your picture on the plate had already used. Rates photo seems to fit in remarkably well. The joke is on you, old man.
 Johnson introduced me to his sister the next day. She's Mrs. Robinson now. I'll. L. Pangborn in Journalist.