St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1894-06-03
REALLY AS OTHERS SEE NE.

ct, and then sped away through the old pine
wood to a beautiful and lonely glen, which
boosted of little fall and deep, clear pool
of water.
I have described the result of my adven-
lures, and my evil deeds and disasters on this
special day had been so many that really
felt some remorse, and might have felt more,
but for the conversation I overheard in the
kitchen, that conversation which had ended
in the inspection of myself in the ballroom
mirror. Now 1 stood before it, my horror
growing greater every moment as l glared
upon the figure have described, and whis-
pered, "That is L.
uttered dreadful word-not an oath, but
one of those substitutes which some people
allow themselves to use, something quite
too shocking on the lips of a girl-and
snatching the Life of Miss Emily Tibbets'
from my pocket, flung it with all my force at
the mirror. 1t was a heavy, old-fashioned
volume, bound in Morocco, and a loud crash
followed, and a shower of glass dashed
to the floor, and heard a shrek of terror
from the dining-room.
Feet came flying up the stairs. I fastened
to depart from the ballroom as had entered
it, and carefully shutting the shutters behind
me, peeped through the Stats to watch what
next would happen.
In minute or so the door opened and
little procession entered the room. 1t was
headed by Aunt Sally, who held lamp in her
hand. Following her came my uncle, Colonel
Malcolm, a tall, soldierly man, with one
sleeve carefully pinned to his coat, for he
had lost an arm during one of the battles of
the civil war. My aunt, CALAMITY escorted by
one of the gentlemen who were that day her
guests, came next. Then Adelaide and
another gentleman, to whose arm she chung,
with what seemed to me to be a very affected
air of terror. Finally appeared another lady
about whom the children clustered, and who
held two by the hands.
All now stood in the great room, and Aunt
Sally holding her lamp over her head,
marched forward until she stood opposite the
mirror which had demolished, and paused,
pointing toward it with tragic gesture and
uprolled eyes. g.
''De glass is broke ITSELF she cried. ssDe
only hull glass in de ballroom is broke itself.
It's de worst oh signs, massa; trouble sartin
to follow, sartin. It's sign oh death, massa
when glass done break hisself in dis var
ballroom. All dem glasses broke dey self.
Dat one de day Mass Rob fought de duel wild
Mass Spencer, dat one de day ole miss done
gone to glory, dat one"
'Hold your tongue this instant, .Sally,',
cried my aunt, "not one word more of that
nonsense" SIS
eyes, Miss Lizzie, sence you says So" said
Sally, "only it's de iyin' truff." She walked
toward the mantelpiece, set her lamp upon
it and leaned back against the wall, her
arms folded, her upper lip projecting, ire
mendously, thus giving the only sign of OF
tense she dared to offer.
"Best keep out of range, ladies'" said my
uncle, retreating; "the whole thing may be
about to fall. Elizabeth, it is my opinion
that there will be funeral here before
there is ball. The omen is usually for
the head of the house, SO probably it will be
mine. I have no regrets on the subject but
for your sake.'' -,
"Now, isn't he cheerful?' said my aunt, in
gently sarcastic tone. sThat's the way he
goes on all the time, ever since the war;
t'Ever since I have had to- bewail lost
health, lost strength, lost fortune and lost
cause" said my uncle.
''But this is not the way to entertain our
guests, am aware" he added. The elder
gentleman held out his hand and grasped
that of the colonel.
eve understand, we've had our share of
these trials, colonel" he said, and my aunt
having called Sally to bring the lamp, they.
all went downstairs again. ~
I always felt as if my uncle William
would have been kind to me if he had had
time to remember my existence amidst a
whirlwind of pecuniary anxieties, and the
constantly recurring neuralgia pains in his
shoulder.
waited a little while without the window,
then taking off my shoes, entered and stole
across the ballroom. My room was at the
junction of the cross hall, but before I
sought it, leaned over the balustrade and
listened. Adelaide was singing to my
aunt's accompaniment on the piano.
A burst of applause followed the song,
and I could just see little Leonora, seated on
my uncle's knee, as he swayed to and fro
in a deep rocker.
Oh, happy people, loving. and beloved, all
prepossessing (how that word haunted mel,
+ I an exile, banished from hearth and
heart. I crept away on tip-toe and went to
my room, where simply kicking my shoes
off, cast myself on my bed and lay there
sobbing. -
One of the guests, a gentleman, was sing
ing now, and the words of Tom Moore's
"Dismal Swamp" came up the stairs to
tune well fitted for it:
'They have made her grave too cold and
damp
For heart SO warm and true,
And she's gone to the lake OF the dismal
swamp,
Where all night long by freely lamp
She paddles her light canoe"
"The path was rugged and sore,
Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds
And many a fen where the serpent feeds,
And man never trod BEFORE
At length I heard the carriages driving
away, and then the servants and my aunt and
uncle talking about my absence.
"Why, am frightened this time, colonel"
screamed my aunt cit is half-past eleven
o'clock IS
"The mirror did not break for nothing.
One of the family was doomed, I knew it. My
poor sisters child has met with some fright
full fate" said my uncle, with one of his most
hollow groans.
"Dat true-dat So" said Aunt Sally. "Lor'
a mighty dat what de mirror done smash he
self for.'
At this loud, clear laugh came mockingly
down the stairs. "You need not worry about
that dreadful girds" cried my Cousin Adelaide,
in her high soprano. .She is in her room. I
I ;oI- CHI - ~,