The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1895-02-12
A NIGHT OF HORROR
In Search Of a Drink of water, Chuewater
Gets Stuck Up


commodious down town structure built
with an eye to com fort, we'll lighted and
thoroughly heated.
For the proper understanding of the
causes that led to the domestic tragedy
herein set forth it will be necessary for the
reader to grasp the idea that the heating
arrangements of the Chugwater mansion
are especially complete. It will enable
him to understand why, in spite of the
vigilance OF Mrs. Chugwater and the ex-
ertions of Bridget, the faithful kitchen
lady, there still remained in the house in
spite of the lateness of the season a small
but persistent colony of flies. These pestif-
erous insects kept themselves out of reach
Of the broom and hybrush, refused to be
cajoled or driven out of doors and con-
tinued to take an active interest in the
affairs of the family regardless of the state
OF the weather and the lateness of the sea-
son. They were no ordinary flies. They
were stayers.
On certain fateful evening some weeks
ago Mrs. Chugwater, driven to despera-
ton, went to drug store and laid the
case before the intelligent clerk
She emerged from the store shortly aft
erward with package, which she carried
with unusual care.
After the evening meal, when every body
else had left the dining room, she unfold
ed that package.
She spread upon the dining table an i'm
posing array of traps designed to catch the
early rising, or, rather, the early descend
ing, fly next morning and make an end of
him, and with smile of triumph which
Mr.. Chugwater could not have understood
had he noticed it she joined the family in
the sitting room.
The night wore on. The Pickering
glare of the street lamps outside family
outlined the dim, shadowy forms of belated
pedestrians hurrying homeward through
the fierce tempest. In dismal bowls
the voice of the storm king rose and fell as
If rehearsing a midnight mass for the
year that was soon to lay its weary bones
in the neglected graveyard of the past
and the unresponsive earth decked itself
in a mantle of spotless white as If mock
ingly displaying its boundless wealth of
material for the swaddling clothes of the
new year soon to be born.
The inmates of the Chugwater mansion,
undisturbed by the fury of the warning
elements outside, slept in peace, and ST.
lence reigned within its walls, save that
from the apartment occupied by Mr..
Chugwater there came at irregular inter-
walls a jarring sound like the note of dis
tant foghorn. 1t signit1ed that Mr.. Chug-
water was all right. He always slept that
way. And the night continued to wear
on.
1t must have been nearly an hour past
midnight when Mr.. Chugwater became
entangled in an unusually complicated
| and obstinate snore that refused to go
| either backward or forward. He awoke
| with a jerk and found he was thirsty.
Climbing out of bed, he CROPPED his way
| down stairs and out toward the kitchen,
with dinly defined idea of getting some
| thing to drink.
Let US not inquire too closely what he
expected to drink. 1t is perhaps none of
our business 1t may have been milk.
| As he entered the dining room he STUN
! bled over chair that unluckily stood in
the way. He lunged forward, striking
one of the leaves of the dining table and
upsetting that piece of furniture. 1t fell
toward him, and as he put out his hands
to save himself they came in contact with
something horribly Shiny and sticky. The
impetus of his forward movement carried
| him down with the table, and he rolled
| over on something that stuck to his face.
| In his struggles to free himself the sticky
| thing wrapped itself all about his face and
head. His hands, equally smeared and
| swathed, became more tangled and help
less at every wild surge he made, and with
a muff1ed yell he rose to his feet He was
| standing On something moist. sticky and
terrible that seemed to trip him when he
| moved. In vain he tried to pull off the
beastly wrappings that en- veloped his head.
There seemed to be nothing he could get
| hold of, and his hands had lost their power
to grasp anything.
| stBIank dash the dad dinged 1uckl''
came with a stif1ed roar from what seemed
to be the upper section of Mr.. Chugwa-
ter's anatomy. What the blanknation is
this business anyhow? Who the Sam
Hill has been smearing molasses and por-
Gus plasters all over the blamed housef
'Mffl Chfl Bl'l SKI Gl'kl Gr'shp'
With convulsive energy he clawed at the
wrappings that covered his mouth. He
succeeded in making an opening, and his
voice rang through the house with force
and volume simply appalling.
| Bring a light, somebody he yelled.
"Murder! Thievesl Firel Call the po-
licel Good heavens, can't you hurry Get
a move on you! For the blessed angels
sake, be quick!''
The terrified members of the family
came trooping into the dining room The
gas was hurriedly lighted, and there stood
Mr.. Chugwater in his night clothes cover
ed from head to foot with sticky fly paper,
while from a ragged opening in the sheets
that enveloped his head there came Ian
guage dreadful to hear. The table stood
on it's side, broken chair sprawled near
it, and the room looked IS if a Cyclone
had passed through it.
Mrs Chugwater leaned against the side
board and surveyed him with emotions
that for some moments deprived her of
utterance
s'Its you, is it, Josiah" she said at last
family. s'You seem considerably stuck
up