The San Francisco call., 1899-07-09
Duefi5 Apart From
Wife and Fdnnify
Gives Up Ar The
Worldly Pleas
ure5 and Lives
0niy in Gh05tTy
Memories Of the
Ddy5 Long Dead.

when he found voice to speak at all
that he had seen a ghost" playing up
on the piano in the desterted house
From these things a story grew until
even the neighbors began 10 look un-
certainly upon the place, and supersti-
tious and -creduious strangers visited
the vicinity to stare and wonder ana
wait for the happening or 1earsoIne
things. What really occurred was puI
q tiny seed from which sprang ana
flourished green bay tree Oh nair 5arerad alIoit
Ghost stories of all kinds were draseeo
forth and parts Of them attached more
or less deftly to the defenseless haol-
tation.
At last. however, the truth became
known and then the street settled back
into quiet again. The residents of that
part of San Francisco are neither med
dlesome nor ill-natured. They are re-
spectacle, steady going, eminentiy
practical people, and since their wealthy
neighbor does them no harm oy ms &C.
centricities they see no reason why any
one should even attempt to prevent him
from living his life in his own way.
If he prefers, say they, to live alone
in his mansion instead Of selling 1t or
renting it, and living with his family.
that is entirely the business Of himself
and his family. If he prefers to always
enter and leave his abode by way OF the
back alley, he can certainly do as ne
chooses in this regard If he likes MS
own society better than that OF his rel
low-beings, he is quite welcome to 1t
for all they care. If he objects to the
use of broom and duster, and mop and
soap and water, within the borders Of
the domain over which he-ltke an
urban Selkirk-reigns with undisputed
sway, he has perfect right to let dust
and dirt and cobwebs accumulate
If he wishes to promenade over his
own house in his flowing night-robe,
with or without the accompaniment Of
a candle, according to natures benef-
cence in the way of illumination, that,
again, is his own affair. If he prefers
to play the piano or sing at night in
stead Of by day, the nefghbors can af-
ford to allow him to amuse himself
occasionally without making unnetgh-
borly fuss about It.
He Is "a good man" they say, but
little queer" and so he lives alone and
unmolested in that desert of unpeopled
rooms His feet wear threadbare paths
on the rich carpets; his fingers, grown
tremulous Of late, touch lovingly the
yellow keys of the once fine piano and
draw from them sorrowful music OF
other days.
The moths nest and hatch IN the up
hofstered furniture and fit about like
insect ghosts in the stagnant atmos-
phere of the unaired rooms. Spiders
spin their web from corner to corner,
from mantel to bookcase, from balus-
trade to doorpost, and duSt-"the
bloom OF time"-settles down from day
to day on web and curtain, carpet and
furniture, window and wall. thicker
and heavier, and rests there undis-
turbed.
Some day or night the end will come.
The spirit that has so chafed at the re-
strictions of mortality and circum-
stance will be set free. The human life,
which for so many long years has been
the one disturbing element in the silent
solitude Of the dreary house, will be
snuffed out like the candle which has
lighted so many purposeless pilgrim
ages of the restless feet.
The white shadow Will no longer as
sert It's claim against, and supremacy
over, its dark companions, but will join
with them on equal footing, and the
House of Shadows will, perhaps,
never realize that any change has
come, but will shelter and brood over
them all then as now.