The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1896-08-01
MY COUNTRY GHOST.

81 n 1889 / had hired at Verrleres. a
charming village coquettishly sit
Y uated midway on one of the wooded
slopes of the forest which bears it's
name, a simple cottage where l designed
to spend the summer with my wife and
presumptive heir. My cottage consisted
of square pavilion covered with tiles,
composed of a basement and one story,
and situated al a retired extremity of the
village.
An oblong garden of about an acre, in
closed by walls garnshed with trellis lay
before the cottage. which was built at The
extremity of the inclosure, and reached
by graveled walk, bordered on each side
with fruit trees in full bearing.
l was young then, and had one conclu-
sive reason for seeing life through my
eolored spectacles. United to a charming
woman whom l idolized and who rendered
me happy, / dreamed of perfect love, like
an Arcadian shepherd. and these five
words-a cottage and her heart-the eter-
nal romance of youth, would have led me
10 the end of the world
When spring came and the lilacs, of
which there were whole thickets in our
Enclosure, blossomed. arrived a fortunate
couple to take possession of our little do
main, my wife having never yet seen the
mousse or garden; they pleased her. per
mas Tor reasons similar to mine. She was
Kind enough to find everything to her
taste, even the gardener, Gilbert.
Paid by the proprietor, all his duties
were comprised in taking care of the gar
den. showing the cottage to visitors. and
airing the apartments by occasionally
opening the windows. If the situation
was not very lucrative, it was not diff
cult to fill.
Arm in arm, and Drawing the hottest
sun madame, with her parasol and her
pretty sunbonnet, and l. with an immense
straw hat proud of having a gardener.
we went to sit beside him while he work
ed, with spade or watering pot in hand
and you should see what a mischievous
pleasure we then took in overwhelming
MIN with a multitude of questions as alb
surd as his replies: in hearing him reason
sravely on the rain and fine weather; de-
scribe his hopes or fears relative to the
approaching harvest
we had hardly been installed in our
rustic villa a week when one fine morn
ing as we were making a fine bouquet in
a magnificent border of violets framing
one of the green lawns beneath our win
dows. and in the corner of which figured
well half hidden by a thicket of labur-
NUNS, my wife said to me:
DO you know, my love- what displeases
me here. and what l would certainly have
removed this very moment If II denended
only upon me?"
without being a fine lady my wife is
very impossible in her nature, and has
her little superstitions. She believes in
the influence of Friday. and of the num-
Der 10; an overturned salt cellar. two
knives crossed, affect her; a broken mir
ror VIII make her ILL., at evening. the MUIR
mur of running water. the mysterious
whispering of the poplars, vivid lightning.
and the noise of the thunder produce an
effect which she cannot avoid; adorable
weakness, OF which, in my opinion |
should do very wrong to complain
What is it?' I asked of my wife
THAT disagreeable weeping willow. that
stands in the corner of the lawn on the
right of the we'll" she replied.
And why SOP" returned l.
~ on know very WE'LL said she to me
that cannot endure those trees even in
painting; an ordinary willow can be pass
ed by in spite of the romance of OtheIlo
but these weeping willws-oh, no. [ can
not bear them
Il understand you, my dear, but we
nave no occasion for grief the child IS
wei and we are both cheerful enough"
Come, you jest when the gravest sub
1ects are concerned. You undoubtedly
have not forgotten the origin of my an
upathy for that hateful tree which
should never be admitted into pleasure
grounds! Have you not seen that mel
ancholy shrub figure, beside yews and cv-
presses and shading with It's fearful
tresses these mournful words: He was a
good husband and father To our an
gel 1t is a tree suited only to a Gene
Terry, and standing here on this surf it an
noys me, ii worries me-"
What a foolish idea" said l. mean
while l will promise to say word on the
subject to Gilbert the gardener. We will
see whether he may not be able to re-
move it,"
At evening, when Madame Gilbert re-
turned from the fields, / invited her 10
rest a moment as she was passing the
garden gate, and informed her that she
might mention to her husband the de-
sire expressed by my wife.
Madame is in the right" said she
They took very good care not to tell you
when you hired the house; the proprietor
forbade us to do so, but there is indeed
some one buried there. and your wife is
nearer the truth than you thought her.
That turf and weeping willow conceal a
tomb"
You will easily imagine how astonished
] was.
We had come into the country TO avoid
the gloomy sights of the city and had en-
countered precisely what we wished to
avoid; We We're, without having suspected
it, the guests of Death; our garden was
but cemetery, our villa a funeral lodge.
When our child, trying his newborn pow
ers, was rolling about the thick turf. so
green, so studded with white daisies. o
horror! O sacrlegious profanationi 1t
was over sepulcher that this dear little
creature was playingl Nothing more was
necessary to induce us to remove imme-
diately.
But this is an act Of bad faith. 1t is
sufficient to cancel the bargain. for peo-
pie will not endure such impositions. Who
is buried there2" added /, "a criminal, a
suicide a miscreant who died without