Democratic Northwest and Henry County news. [volume] (Napoleon, O. [Ohio]) 1894-1905, 1894-07-19
written for the EOrsnvest.l
.THE HAUNTED HOUSE AT
RIYERDALE.

BY rHEBE FIELD.

1t was a glorious looking house,
large and square in the main part
with small wing putting out on one
side, though this wing was scarcely
visable, being densely shaded by ev-
ergreens, and overun with ivy.
The building was devoid Of paint,
and walls, roof, and even the window
shutters, had acquired the same wealth
er beaten neutral tint, affected by ar
lists, but not usually admired by the
thrifty Americans, who is lavish of
the most glorious hues in decorating
his domestic paradise.
The walks and roads around the
old house were overgrown with grass
and weeds, as though they had not
been trodden by foot of man for q
decade at least,
Nor had they, as far as known, for
the property was owned by parties in
distant city, and the house had been
unoccupied for many years.
There we're two reasons, at least,
for this desertion. The house was
situated on the outskirts of half
alive little village, where the houses
outnumbered the families, and by
common report, the place was haunt
ed
It had no appearance OF being
haunted by anything more animated
than dust and decay, for the shutters
were nailed down, the doors part
closed, and no smoke ever curled from
the blackened chimney where the wild
birds built their nests, unmolested by
prowling cat or maraudlng boy.
AS / stood there idly leaning upon
the sagging gate, and putting cigar,
/ fell to musing over the old house,
and wondering who had lived and
loved, suffered and rejolced within
those gloomy walls.
And a wave of sentimental pity
swept over me, for the old ruin, desert
ed, forlorn, yet doomed to stand there
as monument of the departed life.
And llkened my own life to it, in
the self plying way to which young
people are prone, for the light Of my
life had gone out and only the form
of it remained.
/ had resolved to not think OF II,
since coming to this country place to
regain the health l had lost, for Iwell
knew, what the doctors did not, that
it was not overwork that had broken
ne down, but a great sorrow.
But what use to tell your physician
this2 None at all. He but talks wise
ly of 'overwork' and nervous prostra-
ton and unfallingly prescribes rest
and 'tonics.
So here I was taking the dictated
rest from work, and the tonic in the
shape of country air and food.
But in spite or all my resolutions
to the contrary, my mind would wan
der into the forbidden paths of con-
lecture, and 1 lived my trouble over
again, in the vain effort to solve the
mystery Of Helena Johnson's marriage
to Sllas Gorden, for that she was false
was thought l could not and would
not harbor.
had no word from her, buta cold
ly worded note of farewell, and re-
quest to be released from her pledge
to me.
And when, in hot haste, travelled
to the city in which my darling lived,
she was married and gone.
That was all I knew, or tried to
know; what use to learn the details,
the base part was enough.
Her father had accompanied them
on their wedding journey so I had
not the poor satisfaction OF demand
ing an explanation of him.
Well nigh frantic with grief and
disappointment, I returned home and
plunged recklessly, feverlshly, into,
work, but outraged nature rebelled
at last, / was forced to relinquish my
place On the staff of one of the daily
papers, and recruit, if possible. my
wasted energies in the soothing at
mosphere Of country air and quiet
and, surely no greater de-
gree Of quiet could be found than in
Riverdaie.
I had never heard the story of the
haunted house, had never cared to do
SO, for / had no fancy for, nor belief
in, spiritual manifestations. Why
should they linger round the scene Of
their suffering after kindly death had
brought relief?
So / leaned there and dreamed long
after my cigar had burned out.
Not a sound broke the profound
stiffness Of the place. Even the birds
had finished their evening concert and
and were safely hidden away for the
night.
The moon had risen, full orbed,
and flooded the old house with mel
| low light, while the trees cast long
shadows on the ground.
Someway the silence oppressed me.
began to long for human companion
ship, | shivered slightly though not
with cold, for the night was warm.
I turned to go, when suddenly a
shrill scream broke on the startled air,
SO shrill, SO clear, yet SO utterly dis
pairing, that my heart gave wild
throb.
| Someone in agony or terror l
thought. as I hastily undid the
clumsy fastening Of the old gate, and
as ! did so l caught glimpse, be-
tween the trees that clustered around
the wing of the building, of tall