The record-union., 1894-10-27
'StruthGr KannOck'S Halloween.

ICopyright, 1894, by Edgar L. Wakeman. AL
rights reserved.
Old Anstruther Hammock sat at his desk
in his dingy library, in ancient Kannock
Manse, and listened moodily to the moan
ing night wind of autumn, as it swept
wildly through the almost bare branches
Of the elms and sycamores which shut in
the gray old place darkly from the high
way that led to the near and pleasant
New England village below.
Old Stone 'Struther, he was called by
the villagers, who had most cause to
dread the cruel power his heartless ma
ture and considerable wealth enabled
him to exercise. Miser Kannock was
his commonest title among the many
who knew only his niggardliness and
greed.
Brother Anstruther he was always
called by his dead brothers. wife, who,
as his sole housekeeper and servant,
tremblingly shaved on through the years
to thus protect her two children from
want. Ogre Anstruther these children,
Edith and Herbert Kannock, whisper
ingly spoke of him to each other, to their
mother and to one loyal friend, the viii
lage school-master, Charles Penruth, be-
tween whom and OLD 'Struther Kan
mock there existed something akin to
mortal hate.
Here's another cursed Halloween!'
muttered 'Struther kannock at his ram
shacklo old desk.
He struck outward and backward with
his fist. 1t broke piece of dusty leather
out of his frayed and time-worn arm
chair.
Every things 8 going to rack and ruin."
he continued, as he noticed the rent his
fist had made.
He sat back in his chair and crabbediy
closed his eyes. A slight sputtering of
the candle startled him into an upright
position.
"Of course! That's got TO waste. too.
The wick actually turns over and burns
the side all down into the socketn
He snutfed the light with a savage snap
of his fingers. 1t turned up brighter for
moment, and some sort of relevancy
took his attention to the antiquated fire.
place near.
''See there! Look at that waste. That
Woman'l IL ruin mepi
lie stepped to the chimney side, and
with his loot kicked ashes over the edges
OF the blazing logs.
Wood costs money. But, Lord! Little
they care. That's what comes of feeding
a dead brothers wife and bratsv'
He turned back TO his chair, and. Just
as be was about to reseat himself, he
caught sight of his own shadow upon the
old wainscoted wall. 1t was as high as
the cracked ceiling and was swinging
its giant arms wildly.
lie wheeled about to look at it. 1t
seemed to confront him threateningly.
Shadows, shadows, shadowsw he
growled More waste! Why shadows?
Just the same everywhere. Shadows
under trees, shadows behind buildings,
low oil.
necessary. All folderol. All wastep'
He advanced toward his own shadow
upon the wall and it gradually shrunk to
his own stature. Then he put his hard
list against the paneling with a grinding
motion.
that threatens and it'll wilt. Beat it out.
Grind it out. Wipe it out. If you don't,
it'll wipe you out. That's Anstruther
kannock's way; and it's mighty good
way, toor'
Despite his clustering bravery the man
seemed to be enyironed with shadows.
They worried him. The tapping of some
little branch against the pane brought
SIm with start to the window.
'Why amt thom blinds shut?p he
querulOusly muttered. Just like their
pesky carelessness. 1 don't want any-
body looking in here, and they know it..
Coniound them all. They'd be even glad
To have pranks played on me Tonight
the brats and that devilish schoolmaster
would. anyhow"
IL g stood at the window a moment and
seemed to relapse into his former misera-
bic reflections. 1t was one of those eerie
nights when il is dark and clear by turns.
and the wind leaps across the face of ma
ture IN cutting, whitening pulsations, fill
ing all the outer world with invisible
forces and presences.
YES" continued the man at the win
<QrNxrr NO. II
Look at that cloud of leaves. Every one,s
got TO 60 That's waste. Grass is all
bent and matted. That's waste, Birds
fused and fumed all summer building
their nests. Dead now; and that's waste,
too. ii I'd made the earth and the things
in 1t, thered been no such dodrotted fol-
derolr'
He turned his eyes peeringIy into the
night. The roof of gray old church
loomed darkly above the writhing
branches OF surrounding trees. and
'Struther kannock's face darkened
THAT cost ten thousand" he muttered.
''What ALFRED nonsense and waste that
isp
At that moment the scant moonlirht
revealed a little huddIe of white tomb
stones like crouching ghosts against the
Mills beyond the church front, and one.
taller than the rest, seemed to I'LL the man
at the window with hateful resentment
and bitterness.
He shook his fist menacingly toward if.
railing horribly at it for time while
walking back and forth in the old library
with hard, impatient tread.
''l'll level you yet, too!'' he went on
with passionate yebemence. ''What's $
your miserable white face got to be ever
lastingly looking this way for? You'd a
starved but for me. Your wife and brats
would a starved but for me. You would
not even had a headstone but for me.
Arson hammock. you're dead and dust
ten year! Stay there, you fool Keep
away from me. Lie quiet now! or Pill
pll-Who says / amt done right by you?
Who says L amt done right by them?
Who says"
The door to the library opened. It's
inmate screamed out as though his broth
er's ghost had stalked from the grave
yard to answer his self-justifying ques-
lions.
But the one at the door was only dead
Anson kannock's widow, stopped. apol-
ogetic, humble, patiently ready for COM
plant or curse, and timidly bearing a
Jew letters in her hand to the master OF
Hammock Manse.
The pale, bent little woman looked
ut 'Struther Kannock in fear and trepida-
tion.