The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-11-03


 tory. in suggestivenessI of Britain's imperial conquests and her thankless niggardliness to the broken lives that had been cast remorseessy aside!- does not one whit exaggtrate the won- drous pathos of their collective and in- dividual aspect. The painter has told all the wretched. heart-breaking story In these white heads and battle scared, bent frames boSed in grovel- ing. protestive silence attime of bene- diction and prayer!
 In half hour more \ was back at my desk, my window shutters closely drawn and hiding the dteary Tapping of a ghostly London fog, my fire and light burning brightly, and everything in readiness for my inbpirated task. Then the one thought fiished over me that a master had told illimitably more on canvas than could ever be re- vealed in worda But fought this down, and still essayed to write.
 Again and again I began. but 1t seemed like contemptible plagiarism, yes. almost like literary sacrllege. to even tread on ground so incomparably traversed before me. The entire fabric of the day began to vanish like a'phan- tom of the night. I saw first, Herko- mer's great painting; then the wretch ed face of the poor old man had left half fainting at Chelsea Hospital gate; and then-the face, or outlines of a face, my dogged persistence In an ap- parently hopelesss fancy was slowly conjuring out of the misty depths of visionary clouds
 For hours I sat thus wordless and effortless before my desk and papers. I had long before flung my pen from me and 1t had rebounded from the desk and fallen with one end resting across the huge glass inkstand. With my head held tightly in my hands. l was gazing vacantly at both. seeing neither fairly from stress of mental ex- citement and distraction.
 Suddenly within the curves. protru- slons and indentations of the ornamen- tai glass on the outer surface of the inkstand, the half caught outlines of woman's face arrested my attention More startling still. 1t was the identical face which my fancy had evolved from the strange and pathetic incidents of the day; and 1t now took on definite form and feature in the old glass ink stand before me.
 Not only did this face of a woman come distinctly in view, but aside from its plainly traceable lineaments, below and beneath 1t was crouched, bent and bumped little body, while the penholdel had been grotesauely transformed in. to the figures stout and sturdy staff.
 laughed outright at the curious hal Inclination and challenged the old pen. sioner as If in petty triumph with:
 "Ah, I told you your wife was not dead, Uncle Billy. See! Here we have already found her!
 Believe it or not, the face in the ink. stand responded to this with many and the sweetest of mods and smiles.
 "There you are then. Mistress Mer. rill?" I banteringly asked of the face in the inkstand.
 A nod and a smile followed this in stantly.
 And you are still patiently waiting for Uncle Billy who never came?" Imperative holdings and a mournfu smile were the immediate response.
 Dear, dear! It Is very loyal ant good, of you; but won't you please g away just for a little, until this hatefu story is begun and done, Mistress Mer rill?"" I pleaded kindly but distractedly
 "No, no, mol" was plainly answered 1T the dejected head shaking in the ink stand; and heard, or thought plain ly heard, the imperative humping dis sent of the staff upon my hollow desk.
 Something like feeling, of solemnity now came upon me. The persistenc, and insistence of the face in the ink stand aroused me from dalliance tt action. .
 I rubbed my eyes furiously, think ing, "Now, presto! and away 1t flies!' but 1t was still there. I clapped my hands loudly together but the wraiti was unmoved. dashed my penholdel down beside the inkstand, but it wa, as though the bumped body had merel, momentarily laid aside her staff.
 I left my chair and bathed my eyes in cold water, paced the room fol a time, and even read in my books When turned to my desk again, ii seemed as though the face in the ink. stand was looking wonderingly and pro testingly into mine. stepped to tho gas jet, turned it off, went out of my apartment and took several quick turns in the hallway. When I had come back and relighted the gas, the little old woman only gazed up into my face with puzzled and troubled look.
 I rang my bell and servant shortly came. a.
 Take this inkstand," said to him "have 1t cleaned thoroughly and bring me a fresh we'll of ink"
 When he had done my bidding and re tired from the room, 1t was a lon. time before I dare turn to the crue effacement I felt certain had beer wrought. Even then, my eyes stol, sheepishly, guiltily, to the desk.
 There, brighter, clearer, more ineradi cable than before was the face in tn, inkstand, its tear-dimmed eyes follow ing my every movement with a plead ing look of bewilderment and fear. Z In g moment more. with hat ant great-coat donned, and with partin, glance at the face which now seemed radiant in smiling approval, I had lef my inn and gained London's midnigh streets.
 Almost as in dream where city. thoroughfares seem like cloud-filled ca nals with ghostly humans drifting alons