The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-10-27

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 the blast. Like ghostly knuckles
 against the panes. shufiied and pat
 tered dead leaves and bits of branches
 which the giant trees tossed furiousIy
 as they lashed and cried in wild abra-
 sion. Ghostly voices moaning whim- pered from cracks and crannies, or
 whispered querulously from doorways.
 niches and dark corners of the shad-
 owy room.
 But what Is that? The old man
 shrinks from 1t as if the sound carried
 1t with some strange and deadly hurt.
 There 1t is again; clearer, louder. more
 penetrating than before! No wonder
 1t beats and pounds the miserable
 frame into a writhlng mass within the
 age-eaten chair It Is the sound of in-
 nocent mirth, ever fearsome trum-
 peting to bigotry, ,envy and greed! ring
 ing for the first time in half a century
 now a merry peal of gladness through
 and through the whitened skeleton Of
 olden hate haunted Hammock Manse! But listen! There Is another and
 more ominous sound to 'Struther Kan
 nock's heart. Its solemn and vibrant peal Is not half through, when the old
 man lunges from his chair, grasps the
 chimney-piece as if for support, mods piteously toward the glfostly window panes and staggers through the library
 door into the dark hallway beyond. A moment more and wild soughing
 of the blast, as the outer door is closed, | tells that the man of coward heart and
 dark purpose Is beating tremulously against the wind and the innumerable phantoms of the night, drawn by H. limitable fear, rather than by a single | strand of human love or reverence, to- | ward the gray old church beyond the
 moss grown wall
 The light streams out upon him as
 he passes the vast old kitchen, half | filled with the merry-makers of genial Halloween. It cuts him like flame.
 The melodious murmurs of the place fill his ears and he turns his head quickly as if from a stinging blow. What impetuous, sacred, saving youth tide memory hands reach out to him through light and life and sound and song from that blessed old kitchen of other days, no human soul save his may know; but he plunges and stag gers on.
 The wall is gained. The ancient oak en gate Is turned upon its rustic hinges. The wind plays mad antics among the tall grasses and the waving weeds. He even feels he hears saddened sobbing and signing from the threats of the tremulous bells in the ponderous tower above his head. He stumbles and staggers on. The grave-stones dance into his eyes and away, and huddle about him gruesomely. With mighty effort and despairing groan he leaps fiercely to the side of the tall marble shaft standing at the head of Anson Kannock's grave. He can go no further. He cannot scream out. He can neither bound madly away nor even fall among the crowded graves. For there before him, rising slowly from the crumbling slab above his fathers tomb, is majestic spectral form. Its long white arm is slowly lifted. Its ghastly face begins to move; and its stern and mournful voice smites the wretched beings soul with the measured and solemn words: 4""Anstruther, Kannock,. I knew you dare not refuse to come" ,e 4. { Whatever the dread mystery enacted, whatever the measureless misery to such nature as this in the memorable accounting which was surely had. and whatever the blighting judgment passed by the dead or supposltittous dead upon the groveling living, among these lone and windswept graves, the folk of Mi1lvale ever after knew only that some mighty and wondrous change had come upon the master of Hammock Manse this night of Hallow- een-a change that had made him an old man; a man of blanched locks and face; a man of trembling and halting step and hesitant, thoughtful speech; and yet man more in the sunlight than the shadows of remaining peace full days, into which had come a bles- sed quickening of ministration to the humble, weak and poor ~,.1sss
 Two only knew of his absence from the manse; and but one of these ever possessed the secret of what had left him prone and unconscious upon his fathers crumbling tomb. ..
 On their way to the manse. as bidden by the distracted miser, Charles Pen ruth and his brother, Judge Penruth, bearing some legal papers in their hands, had taken the shorter but un- frequented path which led from the village through the churchyard on the hill.
 Here they had stumbled over 'Struther Hammock as he lay witless and almost lifeless on his fathers grave. They took him between them and without disturbing the merry makers at the manse, at last get him safely in his own bed. Here, as they were vigorously chafng his hands and limbs, he suddenly sat bolt upright | and calmly said;
 Please bring the papers and a penW This, with the first infection of gentle 1 ness the two at his side had ever heard | escape his lips.
 The documents were brought and the l old man read them aloud, still in clear 1 and kindly tones. Then, as one broth- CT held light and the other a book | upon which the papers rested, he | signed them decisively without the | slightest tremor of hand or pen.
 Shall we burn these others now?,' the schoolmaster quietly asked.
 "No. You may leave them with me"
 Ha fhnk tharn crlInchad than, T., 1,ts |