The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-03-22
The Threlkeld Ear
"a story in Five Parts. BY C. A. Raj
mond)
PART w

| said in a whisper. Il couldn't tell we in yor
room. That's where it bides-that's where
it
at? WHAT"
1T wor done out of its rights o. Christ
mas Eve. II comes back once a year
An he had lowered his voice so Mrs
Threlkeld could barely hear-'ff there's
anither BARN in its place il tries to do him
an ILL.,"
"How?"
ITS fair jealous, We mind-jealous o
the BARN in its place"
But there was no child here for years
and years.
ABBOTT the place-harnIess like. playin
soft on a little pipe and cryin betimes-
cryin' pitiful when it's room down in the
mushroom and smothered.'
The lady turned away; little scornful
smile played about her mouth.
Eth, but yen hear il an yen sit oop, "
MOunsey warned her. ''Ye'd best not
make it angry, now there's anither BARN
in its place"
How is 1t supposed to hurt the other?''
she said curiously.
''Eh; It lures the live one out Of his
bed-lures him Wi a painted pipe. Only
a BARN can see it. but old and a can
hear"
Hear WHAT"
1.-The whistIin'-verra soft and low. It
blows on the pipe and then holds it cot,
and the live BARN rooms after il all over
! the hoos-roons and rooms till he drops
doom dead"
Il won't be up long" said Mrs Threl-
| keld, turning away with some Impotence.
! You needn't stay. III attend to the
lights"
She waited till the old man had gone,
and then, lighting a candle. ran swiftly
up the great staircase, smiling at her
! foolish fears, but never stopping till she
! found herself in the far west wing at the
nursery door. She tried it. 1t was lock-
| ed. She knocked with soft Impotence;
! but not until she called the nurse by name
was the door slowly and unwillingly open
! ed
why is the door locked?" she asked.
| The old woman made some muttered
| excuse and retired to her own room be-
yond.
Mrs Threlkeld put down her candle by
the night-light, and sat on the side of the
| child's cot. She stayed there a long while,
| looking at the flushed little face and the
chubby hands that, even in sleep, clutched
/ the gloriied penny whistle he had begged
off the Christmas tree.
! The mother laid her head on the pillow
| beside him and stroked his yellow hair.
| Inc OIu nurse HdO SOH6 " DSus tHo
| light in her room was eXtinguished. When
Mrs. Threlkeld went away she closed the
nursery door without a sound, SO that no
| sleeper should be Weakened.
| She went down to the hall and looked
! at the clock. 1t was absurdly early-no
wonder she didn't feel sleepy. She took
up a book, and made herself comfortable
in Mr.. Threlkeld's easy chair.
1t was the smoking of the big lamp that
| reused her. That foolish Mounsey was
far too old for careful service. Twice
lately had the untitled lamps given out
before the short evening was half done.
Faugh! This one smoked vileIy. She
presently put it out and sat in the pleasant
fire-glow. What time was it? She turned
to see, but the hall clock was too much
in the shadow. 1t was very still in the
house. Every body must have gone to
bed, but it couldn't be late. There was
not much holiday air about the sombre
place for all her pains. Mrs. Threlkeld
felt suddenly that her Christmas plans
had fallen out rather drearily after all;
and yet the rooms had looked superb.
She crossed the hall and pushed open the
great drawing-room door-pitch dark, of
course! Impulsively she came back, thrust
a taper in among the embers and carried
the faint little flame into the great room
adjoining. She lit a single candle in low
placed sconce, and looked about. Certain
ly it was beautiful. What a place for
ball!
Leaving the one candle to burn demure-
ly in its braZen setting. she passed on
with her taper TO the next room, and so
on, leaving a faint trail of light stray
Cling behind her through the open doors,
till she reached the mushroom.
Here the candles burnt low in their sock
cts. Some we're already out. How horri-
bly, dreary it looks now! she thought, re-
Numbering the brilliant tree and the ex
cited child dancing for joy in the flood of
light earlier in the evening.
Il can't go to bed feeling like this; I
should cry my eyes out" She blew out
the taper. THE candles won't last much
longer-nobody can hear and there'n be
just time to. Is the guitar in tuner"
She caught up the instrument and tried it.
Out of the stiffness soft and clear one of
the notes was repeated. She started and
frightened her nerves to listen. She tried
the instrument again, and again the dis
tinct whistling answer.
THE BARN with his ghostly pipe" she
thought to herself, half smiling, half
afraid. AS she struck the same note
again, she remembered the brass rod over
the door. She went forward to hear it
more distinctly. AS she stood there list
ening, a wholly unaccustomed dread of
the occult in physical nature seized upon
her strongly.
How little we know about the soul of
things!" she thought. NervousIy she
twanged the same string again, shivering
a little as the Inevitable reply came hum
ming back.
How is it," she said. looking up to
where the brass rod glimmered family;
how is il that you know this one out of
h. 81 y ic u
always sets you thrilling? II play many
notes. can you pick out your own?" she
thought, beginning a low cadenza. Yes,
yes" she whispered. listening intently.
every time I touch E, the queer human
thing remembers and cries out"
In a gathering excitement she played
on-fasteT. faster, trying to put the echo
of the track to elude-bewilder IL. But
faithfully it followed. Half angrily she
struck into a Moorish dance. Two candles
hickered out. Faster she played. and fas-
ter The blood was hot in her body her
sense of hearing strained almost to burst
ing Did she actually detect the monoto-
nous ping-g-g Of the brass rod echoing !
the flying note. or did she fancy il? Had
she left the faithful follower far behind? /
No no. There, there il sang gain. All /
her spirit seemed to pass into the act /
of listening. Breathless she PLAYED on. 1
II was like race. Suddenly behind the I
barbaric air she thought she heard far !
off crying. crying in that one monoto- /
nous key-children's voices. What mad /
ness! II could be only old Mounsey's /
tales working uaConsciousIy on her /
senses. She wound up the last variation 4
OF the dance with feverish energy. horri- +
fed 70 feel how she was trembling. and (
how persistent was the impression Of ,
children CRYING IN the night