Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-07-12

and are repugnant to me.
 And as I think know myself pretty well, was surprised and bored by @ state of mind so contrary to my habits and nature. Evidently my physio-psy- chological system was in a moment of crisis.
 How could get out of it-be curedP Must I, too, take the first train and go into the country? Perhaps that would be the best way. But unfortunately I could not. 1 had an important engage ment to supply some work, and could not run away and leave it for whims of dreamer fit for hysterical woman.
 "Per baccor' told myself, Pay no attention to the thing! Let us be man, what, the deuceT
 And I returned home th.t evening as usual, after having dined and visited the cafe.
 had planned to work hard that even- ing, in order to make haste to finish. Having entered the house I made as usual an inspection of the apartment and found everything as before. Not even a chair out of place. Then went into my study and lighted the gas, to be- gin work.
 
 desk and cast a glance upon the manu- script where I had left of writing, marvellous, amazing surprise awaited me.
 You must know that I was writing a , novel-oh, what novel! Something l fine, exceptionally finel A romance like that surely no one ever wrote. The real and the fanciful, the romantic, the D1oeefn la clySll ,llx- mingled in it.
 Now that day when went out had interrupted the story at very interest ing point, and the period ended thus:
 He burst into sonorous laugh of scorn; he was very sure that the time of phantoms and specters was long past! That apparition then gave him no fear. It must be a trick"
 had left it there.
 Taking up the pen in order to con- tinue, with my good cigar lighted in my mouth, I cast my eyes on the paper, and what did see?
 Just heavens! What indeed! Directly below the last line written by me had been written one word only: Fool! There it was, ironical and men, acing, in Gothic letters, which showed the handwriting of former age. Who had traced this scornful and moclling word? You can imagine wheth- l CT I remained amazed. will say even more-I felt an impression of terror. My servant did not know how to read or write. No one had come into the house during the day. Then by whom had tho ( words been written? ! grew livid and felt myself shudder. 1 sprang to my feet. felt the hair stand on end upon my head and cold precipitation trickle down my forehead!
 Tic, the accursed stuffed cat, looked | fxedly at me, and his green eyes seemed to dilate and become variegated with a thousand colors. But was that cat really stuffed? Or was he not rather alive by virtue of some witchcraft? All at once I reused myself. I had a feeling Of shame and rage; and furious, striking with heavy fist on the writing desk. I exclaimed:
 But who is the demon who has writ ten this word? I woulI like to know him to twist his neck;'' If were to live a thousand years, l shall never forget what happened then. l had hardly finished speaking those words when the stuGy resounded with mocking laughtcr-dry, strident, infer nal.
 | Then the wall opened suddenly, and l there came forth a woman wrapped in a great black mantle. And Tie, the ac- cursed cat, made leap from his pillar, and moving as he had never mowed in his lifetime went to rub himself against that mysterious being. | 1 drew back mo1e dead than alive. Sull, had enough presence of mind to stretch hand behind me, open drawer of the desk and take out n loaded re- volvcr. As soon as 1 had seized the weapon felt safer.
 raised my arm and pointed the re- volver at that being, with the exclama- tion:
 "Now. we will see who you arel' l Alas! Once, twice, thrice I touched the trigger, but the revolver was no longer obedient.
 The mysterious figure made two steps toward me. The black mantle that en- folded her fell to the floor.
 What a fearful sight, It was not a man nor a woman. It was skeleton-a skeleton with two lights flaming in its empty, cavernous eye sockets-a skeleton that laughed satanically, while the cat Tic made fantastic and wild leaps. | It was-it was Death!
 In the morning they found me insensi- ble in my den. The servant ran to call a physician. who found me in a high fever. My family hastened from the country. was taken care of, treated and cured. But the fact remains, my hair had turned gray.
 When was able to return to my den, the cat Tic was no longer there. My wife had made a coup d'etat and sent 1t to be thrown into the river. The column had also disappeared. It had been given away, do not know to whom.
 My manuscript was, however, still in its place. Only the word "Foolr was no longer there.
 Then it had not been written?
 Still was very sure of having read it. | Who knows? If the cat Tic had still