The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1894-11-23

~ q AOSO1u DOOh VI Ih0 pIO-
49, bate court in Huntsville,
GHFo his name was Paul Blanc;
4SlN but beyond this nothing
1N more was known than that
SMN man, who was presumably
S4EI bachelor, had bought a
certain picturesque stone
cottage. The chief grocer
admitted having received an order,
written in a fine French hand, for an
expensive supply Of pantry stores,
many of which were not ON his
shelves. The postmaster reported that
the stranger neither sent nor received
letters. No gossip could come from
servants, for the stranger kept none.
The impertinent curiosity of the viii
layers was repelled by a gate which
was always locked, but Paul Blanc
did not hide himself and at certain
hours Of the day he might be seen
walking on the asphalt path which
surrounded an ellipse of bluegrass.
His steps were slow as If from age,
but when he reached the curve of the
path nearest the gate, his face could
be seen and showed that he was not
80 old as he appeared. His long hair
was white, and his clean-shaven face
was smooth save for a line which ran
down his left cheek; his eyes were
dark, and his smile sardonic. OF his
voice no one could tell.
The isolation Of his life was broken
only by q Siberian mastiff, which,
with head bowed in imitation of his
master, followed him as ne walked
around the curving asphalt. Like his
owner, the lazy, tan-colored dog
seemed always in a state of acute
pre-occupation. Speculative interest
concerning the dreamer, as people
termed him, was at full tide for some
months, until a tacit yet final con-
slusion was reached that nothing
could be ascertained relative to the
former history Of the man and his
hermit existence.
One morning at early dawn a pass
ing laborer saw crepe on the gate,
and q closer inspection disclosed that
the lock was gone. He did not 60
in, but waited until some other per-
son happened by. The chance conner
was myself, a physician, returning
from patient whose condition !
should have known was hopeless. 1t
was not necessary for the laborer to
direct my attention to the insignia of
death, for as 1t fiuttered in the breeze,
it had come within the field Of vision
before I saw the man, and as one
who was expected, 1 went in.
The house was quiet. A current of
air from the open door stirred a por-
there at my right, and, looking be-
yond it. I saw the man to whom, in
the years Of his residence in the town,
1 had now come nearest. He was
sitting at table, and his face was
hurled In tho folds Of xxtI,if Io%I
On the table was an ivory miniature,
beside which lay bulky roll of paper,
and suspended from a hanging lamp
was bottle, from the mouth of which
there dangled a piece of wick Touch.
Ing him, I found that he was dead,
and glancing at the bottle I saw that
1t was labelled "Chloroform" He
had seemingly been his own destroy
or, and had hung the bottle so that
the saturated wick might drop the
duid on the cloth, thus keeping him
under its influence until life was ex.
tinct- In corner of the room the
dog, on the collar of which was en-
graved the name Zao, was sleeping,
apparently stupef1ed by the odor
which permeated the whole apart
ment In my Office as coroner, I took
charge Of the roll of paper and pic
ture; then passed the evening read
Ing the MS. which gave the story of
the mans life. Since then the years
have passed into history, and l see
no reason why this strange autobiog.
raphy should not be made public.
MY CONFESSION.
After seven years Of such subli-
mated suffering as falls to but few
Een, am about to write the history
of my life, dating it from my 21st
birthday, since it was then my life
really began. In evidence of what ]
was, 1t Is best to recite some of the
formative influences previous to the
day Of my majority. My baphsmal
name, as may be seen on the register
of the cathedral Of st. Louis in New
Orleans, is Paul White; now aged 30
The reversal of destiny cut short the
intention Of my parents to educate me
for profession. At IS was forced
to go to work, and year later the
death of my father left me as the sole
support of my mother. / loved my
father, but his passing did not affect
ne very deeply, for there was great
pride in the position to which 1 was
elevated. AS my mother made my
world, rejoiced that such comforts
as she required would be afforded her
by me. AS I write. L can see her be
fcre me. Her appearar ce was dis
tinguished, and suggested a French
lnarquise. Her hair was white, and
fell in caressing folds about her high,
thoughtful forehead; on her face there
was a patient, pathetic resolution
which was Spartan in effect, and her
eyes were suggestive of the earliest
brown on hazelnut To me she
was a saint, and knowing that any
wrong on my part would augment the
grief in her life, made her my only
companion lest, in association with
youths of my own age, might be
overcome by the temptations which
assailed them To her I became an