The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-08-04
bidness and such nonsense annoy me

state of mind 80 contrary to my habits
and nature. Evidently my physio-psy-
Geological system was in a moment Of
crisis.
How could l get out of it-be cured?
Into the country? Perhaps that would
be the best way. But unfortunately I
could not. I had an important engage
ment to supply some work, and I could
not run away and leave it for whims of
a dreamer fit for a hysterical woman.
"Per baccow I told myself, "Pay no
attention to the thing! Let us be a man.
what, the deuce"
And I returned home that evening as
usual, after having dined and visited the
cafe.
I 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 I went
into my study and lighted the gas, to be-
gin work.
But as soon as l seated myself at the
desk and cast a glance upon the manu-
script where l had left off writing, n
marvellous. amazing surprise awaited
me.
You must know that I was writing q
novel-oh, what a novel! Something
fine, exceptionally fine! A romance like
that surely M one ever wrote. The
real and the fanciful, the romantic, the
classic, the naturalistic, were skillfully
mingled in it.
Now that day when I went out I had
interrupted the story at a very interest
ing point, and the period ended thus:
"He burst into a 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"
I 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 a former age.
Who had traced this scornful and
hooking word? You can imagine wheth-
er 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 the
words been written?
Igrew livid and felt myself shudder.
Isprang to my feet. I felt the hair
stand on end upon my head and a cold
perspiration 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 a heavy fist on the writing
desk, I exclaimed:
"But who is the demon who has writ
ten this word? 1 would like to know
him to twist his neck?"
If I were to live a thousand years, I
shall never forget what happened then.
had hardly finished speaking those
words when the study resounded with
hooking laughter-dry, strident, infer
nal.
Then the wall opened suddenly, and
there came forth a woman wrapped in
a great black mantle. And Tic, the &C.
cursed cat, made a leap from his pillar,
and mewing as he had never mewed in
his lifetime went to rub himself against
that mysterious being.
I drew back more dead than alive.
Still, I had enough presence of mind to
stretch a hand behind me, open a drawer
of the desk and take out a loaded re-
volver. AS soon as I had seized the
weapon I felt safer.
I raised my arm and pointed the re-
volver at that being, with the exclama-
ton:
"Now, we will see who you are!'
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. TWAS skeleton-a
skeleton with two lights flaming in its
empty, cavernous eye sockets-a skeleton
that laughed sa~tanically, while the cat
Tic made fantastic and wild leaps.
1t vast was Death!
Il n n \
In the morning they found me insensi-
BILE in my den. The servant ran to call
a physician, who found me in a high
fever. My family fastened from the
country. Twas taken care of, treated
and cured. But the fact remains, my
hair had turned gray. wi
When I was able to return to my den,
the cat Tic was nc longer there. My
wife had made a coup d'etat and sent it
to be thrown into the river. The column
had also disappeared. Tt had been given
AWAY. I do not know TO whom.