Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1892-02-06
A CAPITOL HILL GHOST STORY.


Written for The Evening Star
EOR so YOUNG A CITY WASHINGTON
Il has already quite an array Of haunted
houses. First, Of course in order Of import
ance comes the old Octagon House, which has
already passed into history and on which
writers have already drawn for more than one
story. The house on G street, though not 90
widely known has also its unearthly inhabit-
ants. which occupy the premises to the exclu-
sion Of servants, negroes especially. Around
one Of the last log cabins that remained within
the District lines, but lately replaced, by the
way, by modern frame shanty, used to hang
dark tales Of war time murde, and of buried
treasure; and the weird sounds that echoed
nightly through the lonely hollow where it
stood were attributed to 'jack-m lantern"
trying to whistle off the faithful dog whose
skeleton guarded the hoard.
But one Of the stories most perfect in its
ghastliness is that which hangs to the old de-
serted mansion southeast of the Capitol, and it
was an investigation of this that furnished the
substance Of the present tale.
1t happened year ago and il BY this time
old enough to be told without embarrassing
the principal actor He was an acquaintance
OF the writer 9. a tall, pale faced, intellectual
looking youth with q penchant for psychology
cal research. He had heard the story Of the
old house and had decided to spend a night
there in hopes Of getting at least negative
story with which to regale the 'Spook Club"
On his return to college after the holidays.
1t was not yet moonlight when This unbe-
llevlng ghost hunter reached the foot OF the
terrace on which the haunted house still stands,
and out OF the blue black sky above the hun
CRY stars like the eyes of wolves glared at
him through the leafess branches of the
overhanging oak trees. The iron CRATE, half
open, hung by single hinge, and the loosened
Dicks OF the walk creaked with the stiff frost
as he shirted the lower story of the house and
paused to gaze out over the cold silent stretch
OF flats and river. A broken window on the
ground floor served as an entrance and then
through the chill dampness characteristic Of a
onS,deserted house he CROPPED his way along
.he dusty wall and up the creaking stairs to
the second story. Cobwebs brushed his face
IN the hall above and repeated gusts of wind
through the broken panes disputed his right
to light the single candle he had brought
along. Finally, however, his dim watch light
secured, he settled himself in the shelter of
and waited.
The wind from the river m oaned through the
trees outside and the dry bopghs scraped the
roof with rattle as of dry bones upon the slate
shutter Tapped in the north wing where the
ghosts walk was, and the echo rang through
the lonely rooms Then all was still. The ST.
lent horror OF the lonely house grew upon him
and by the smoking flame of his single candle
ne began to rewrite as he remembered it the
CHASTITY story that first moved him to visit the
scene OF this reputed crime.
Inc tale grew beneath his fingers. The actors
all came back with more than their original
ciearness and then the ring of galoping hoofs
on the frozen road below chimed in with the
current of the tale and brought back the thought
OF that other night visit SO many years ago.
Closing has eyes he ceased to write, but the tale
followed on. the picture Of that eyentfuI night
rose clear again and the very infectious swing
OF the waltz tune from the parlor below seemed
10 foat up the broad stairs the walls rang again
with music and laughter and the floor swaved
beneath the feet of many dancers.
Once more the hoois rang out on the frozen
road below, and in fancy the listener could
hear them stop and could see the muffied figure
that glanced through the half-drawn curtains
anu then stole round to the rear of the house to
De iet quietly IN by the well-bribed servant.
sun the dancers swept on in the room below
an unmlndful OF the tragedy tina. was prepar-
ing In the hall above them, where the fair girl
had met the intruder and passionately up
braided him for his purposed treachery to his
trusting friends.
ter sounded through the house, and this time
silence did not follow it, There were voices in
the passage outside, now high, now low. re-
treating along the hall just as the story
had said. Was the old tragedy being reacted?
u rose and went to the door.
The wind still whistled outside but from the
chamber down the hall came another sound
that was not the wind. 1t was a low. piteous
moan like child in trouble. Then followed a
confused, jlbbering chatter and then a fall with
the sound of loose metal like scattered coins.
With one hand on the wall C crept like a
shadow along the hallway. The moon lust ris-
ing cast faint reflected light through the end
wlnuow. The door of the haunted chamber
was ajar, and from within again came that un-
earthly sound. C stepped inside The
bright, full moon was just opposite the open
easement, and cronchIng on the sill was shape
with long, outstretched, bonv arms murmuring
gibberish TO the shining disk as specters of old
have been wont to do.
1t turned OH his entrance. and, with a fiying
leap, came toward him. The two skeleton
arms clasped him round the neck, and when
he had recovered from the shock O yery cold
aud lonely monkey was nesting beneath his
chin, Immensely pleased, it seemed, to find
some human company with a surplus of over
coat at its disposal.
A hand organ in the corner, to which its
chain was attached, explained its presence in
the room, where its owner had left it while he
spent the greater part of the night with some
fellow Dagos in one of the resorts where his
1our-footed friend was not allowed admit
lance.