The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1895-12-27
ian ever. For several moments he


about and what had happened.
"Well." he exclaimed, whimsically,
eff that doesn't bsat anything I have
ever experienced. A real live little
fairy. with rosy cheeks and charms ga
lore. Dear mel I'll take q walk, or
will soon be seeing alligators and
green mice with red tails"
Mister Beckwith rose, brushed his
hai., donned his stylish fur-trimmed
overcoas, and paused to take final
look ut his handsome countenance in
the handglass. He almost dropped it.
and an expression Of horror and dis
may overspread his face. He looked
second time, then third, turned
the glass over and around, and ex-
claimed: "Well. I'm blowed!"
In the glass he beheld not himself
but his chamber in miniature. He
was dressing by gaslight. just then
the door opened, and man handed
him letter. He glanced az the hand
writing, and threw the note into the
ire unread. Then he proceeded to
finish dressing. 1t was impossible for
Mister Beckwith to put the handglass
on the table; he held it with terri
BILE fascination.
"I must be mad" he gasped, "to
see such things. That letter was from
Agnes, and was n coward to destroy
it before readiuo the message, Per-
:! 'G"nn,,,
When he looked into the mirror
again the scene had shifted. He was
standing at the street door, evidently
arguing with a shabbily dressed man
who was holding q bill toward him.
He requested the money due him, anu
then demanded it peremptorily. MIR.
Beckwith became furious, and struck
the man blow which sent him reelin9
down the steps and prone on the pave.
ment.
''That was my tailor asking for
something on account" mused Mister
Beckwith. "Poor fellowI wonder
if this is true presentiment that ]
shall have to knock him down."
Once more he looked. The tailor
had vanished, and Mister Beckwith was
standing on the sidewalk confronted by
an emaciated, poorly clad woman, evil
IDENTIFY in the last stages of consump-
| ton.
"Help me" he heard her say; "help
me. I am an outcast, homeless,
shelterless wanderer. Lam dying
can't you nelp me?"
He drew roll of bills from his
pocket, faunted it IN the face of the
wretched woman, and then handed her
dime.
"What q contenptible scoundrelr
calculated Mister Beckwith, forgetting
for an instant that it was his own
image that he saw. "I'd eat my hat
if l were Us mean as that. If should
happen to meet that woman she shall
have all the money she wants, poor
.hingl"
He was now enra2ed at the mirror
for disclosing such shocking truths
about himself, but he still held it in a
firm clasp, as though completely sub.
jected to its spell. Once moro he
looked into the mysterious depths OF
the quicksilver, and his face suddenly
grew asken. He saw the door open
softly and through it entered Agnes
Turner. She was dressed in the same
summer gown she wore when he bado
her goodbye two years before. A
flower nestled in her glossy dark hair,
and a strange wistfulness lay embos-
omed in her large blue eyes. Slowly
she approached him and placed her
| hand on his shoulder. For a moment
she stood silent, then she uttered his
name tcnderly. Iu response he seized
her rudoly by the arm, pushed her out
of the room, and locked the door in
her face.
"No, n0p shontcd Mister Beck
| with Goar&c'y. "rhis glass lies. or l