The evening times., 1895-08-19
One Cent ass', "a
No advertise msnt less than Zoe.
JOE WARMERS sElLIMe.
One Sat Dead and Held the Note That
Told q Whole Tragedy.

The wind ratified the windows, made
creepy, unpleasant nOis es ia the trees
outside. aud at intervals yentured- down
the chimney with sudden spurts, blow
ing the smoke playfuny out into the room
and causing for a moment. discomfort
to our eyes and lungs; then, as, quickly
as II it enjoyed the joke hugely. The
SCOT would come tnmbliuS down. and. for
moment, euvelop the flames in a cloud
of black dust. A crackle, splutter, and
up the logs blazed as cheeriIy as ever.
Jones and / stretched our feet. toward
the warmth and buried ourselves deeper
in our great armchairs
This" murmured my friend, as he
blew out a whiff of smoke and watched
it disappeared up the chimney, lis the
best part of our day after quail and
''Listeu!'' cried the school teacher, who
had been our compa nion during our days
hunt.
At first low and plaintive, then loud
er aud louder, borne on the wind that rat
tied the windows and played down tfe
chimney, came an unearthiy sound. 1t
was like a groau OF superuatu origin.
''Goodness," exclaimed Jones, starting
ZIP.
The school teacher laughed That"
he said, lis the horse fiddles" /.
Then came the sharp report of a gun
There" cried Jones, they have shot
it" E-'
shot nothing" laughingly replied the
school teacher. Its cnly the boys over
the hill serenading Sam PuffenOerger.
He's been married"
II should remain bachelor if lived in
this part of Pennsylvania" said Jones, as
he settled down again in his chair.
If you do not mind" said the pedagogue,
II will tell you about the last time l went
beIling, when we belled old Joe Warner;
that is, IL you have no objections"
Having received our assent, he cleared
his throat, and, IN the pompous manner
becoming one Of his calling and tastes,
began:
II am not superstitious-far from it.
Ill would it become one to whom for 50
many years was iEtrusted the education
OF our to wnship, and once eyen that of the
whole county, to give credence to the fool
ish rumors of haunts and charms, or to the
strange beliefs current among some in Our
valley concerning the conversation of cat
tie on All Halloween, or to any like ridicu-
lous fancies. But yet there is one point
on which / must confess some timidity-
that is as to passing the small Lighthouse
which stands Just at the foot of the first
ridge ON the road running to Macedonia on
the night of November 20, or, indeed. at
almost any time after sunset.
Not that / am afraid-far from il; but
strange stories have been abroad for the
past thirty years regarding the doings there
after Dightfan. The sound of fiddles, they
say, can he heard, a nd the changing Of COW
bells, interspersed occasionally with tho
dull report OF q gun. This, the young folks
declare, is the ghost belliDg Joe Warner.
II have never heard the ghosts bell
Joe varner-not that 1 believe they do,
but 1 did bell him myself once. and
hence what passes now as mere local
superstition is to me the ren,iruicr OF q
painful reality, and each recurring ru-
NOR OF stfnnse noises heard on the Ridge
road recalls my last sereDading adventure.
THE house of which have spoken stiH
stands in little niche in the woods about
fifty feet from the roadside. The great
stDbt CilaAtsCy Is now dhhost
demolished: the plaster daubing fallen
from the chiDks bet ween the logs, revealing
to the passersby the barreDness of the in
terror; the glass removed from the shattered
windows 20 let light into some more re-
spectacle dwelling, and the weeds and
briers grow rank in the uncared-for clear
ing in which it stands.
Thirty years ago Joe Warmers place,
as it is called, presented far different
picture to the eye than it does to-day. Then
all was scrupuiousiy cieaD. Not a stone on
the chimney top was out of place; not an
iota of daubing was fallen from between
the logs, nor was the smallest surface
left Dwhitewashed- The surrounding gar
den was as neatly kept. No weeds disturbed
the almost painful effect of its tidiness.
Joe was proud Of his home. and we'll
| might he have been. For twenty years
he had lived his lonely life there, done
his own house work, cared for his own gar
den, and only varied the monot,ny of the
days by occasionally working on a neigh
boring farm
He was a strange creature, tall and
gaunt in appearance, tacituru and surly
in manner. speaking a cross word more
often than a kind one, doing his bad deeds
in public and his good ones in private, for
his natural pride would not allow him to
pa rade the latter before his neighbors. Yet,
with all, he was a kind fellow, spoiled
simply by the loneliness OF his way of hv-
ing, even as his own mongrel dog grew
testy from n lack Of companionsbip.
"why Joe had never married was an
enigma to our people. He was not a native
of our county. but had simply appeared
one day, bought his secluded piece Of ground,
built his house and stayed. Twice, leay-
ing no word behind him, he had gone a way,
remained a week, and then as quietly re-
turned again 10 resume the even tenor of
his life. His return on each occasion was
marked by q fit OF melancholy, which
attracted the attention but repelled the
curiosity of bis nearest neighbors. That
be had visited his old home in the djoin-
ing county was all that we could learn.
1t was just thirty years ago this COM
1. ing November that Warner went away for
the third time since his settlement in our
midst One week passed, and several men
betook themselves to his house to see him.