The Winslow mail., 1899-11-02

which had been the scene of the aw-
full dependency and grim despair
which resulted in the self-destruction
of old man Taylor.
There was evidence on all sides of
his occupancy. In one corner stood his
blackthorn cane, in another an am
| tique sword On the wall, near the bed,
hung a picture of his dead wife. His
large, old-fashioned armchair was
drawn up alongside a marble-top GEN.
ter table, on which now rested the lamp
which 1 had just lighted. The very at
mosphere seemed pervaded with his
| presence.
l fell to speculating on the awful deed
and to wondering what were his sensa-
| tions when he tied the fatal rope about
his neck and dropped to death. L took
a late paper from my pocket and settled
myself to read, but the image of the dis
| torted features of the suicide repeated
ly came between my eyes and the print
ed page.
Il am nervous" 1 muttered, as l flung
the paper aside, then partially undress-
ing threw myself on the bed, first TAX.
| ing the precaution to place my revolver
close at hand.
The windows continued to rattle omi-
nously, the doors to slam, and at fre-
quent intervals the wind came beating
the tops OF the trees vigorously against
the roof, moaning dismally as it died
away in the distance.
1 tried in vain to sleep. 1 counted UP
to so, and then OH TO 100. l 1cohjured up
images of sheep jumping over fences; 1
had recourse to different expedients of
| the wakeful in their efforts to WOO
slumber, but without success.
Sometimes my nerves would be set
vibrating by the loud, shrill whistle of
passing locomotive, as it whirled
through the town, and then again the
wind would resume its furious TRADE
with the gables of the house,
"'Tis strange" | said to myself, 81
have slept soundly at hotels in the midst
of the most populous districts of crowd
ed cities, with the din of the street
traffic in my ears, and yet here. in this
lonely old house, with no sound to dis
turb me, save that made by the blowing
of an ordinary prairie wind, find sleep
utterly impossible"
1 was tempted to get up and return
| to the hotel, but [ was restrained by the
| thought that such an act would be a
weak acknowledgment on my part of
tie truth of the stories in circulation
| about the house, and which | had so
ridiculed.
A few strange chickens were roosting
on the branches of the tree near my wlr,-
dow, and their occasional fiutterins
was welcome, as it seemed companion.
able.
AT last, thoroughly exhausted from
tossing about, 1 began to doze little;
but suddenly L awoke with a start. 1
opened my eyes and looked directly in
front of me. l kept my eyes securely
fastened on an object standing at the
foot of the bed. The form was that of
man with ghastly, pallid face, and
long, white beard. About him was
thrown what seemed to me a shrord,
such as that in which Hamiet's departed
| sire was wont to parade when making
night hideous; but the other was white,
move; both were impossible. L seemed
to feel all my senses slowly ebbing away
as L gazed. My faculties became numb
and frozen; l was trembling with fear
in every member. had my hand close
to my revolver, but L was powerless to
move it.
l now became seized with a horrible
superstitious dread. My heart ceased
to beat, my blood congea.ed in my
veins; was almost as one in death.
My eyes never ceased for one instant
to keep fastened on the apparition
which, immovable for SO long time, at
length began to move slowly toward
the door, through which it finally dis
appeared.
know not how long L lay there, in
state of semiunconsciousness when a
loud, piercing noise broke the spell and
set my nerves quivering. 1t was only
the growing of the rooster on the tree,
close to the open window, but it filled
the room with familiar earthly sound
that reused one to life and action.
L jumped quickly out of bed, in sort
of excitement born of wild terror.
was controlled by one of those wild i'm
pulses of fright which causes an animal
TO rush back into the flames from which
his keeper has rescued him. / grasped
my revolver and ran out of the door
through which / had seen the apparl-
ton glide, then down the stairs, three
steps at time, and pulled open the door
at the foot of the landing.
AS L opened it my attention was in
stantly arrested by the sight of an OBJ
iect crawling low through the hedge
fence. Mechanically l took aim and
fired. There was convulsive shaking
of the branches and bushes, report,
groan, and then-silence.
L dropped my smoking revolver and
sped across the prairie to the hotel,
aroused the sleeping landlord and clerk,
and told my adventure. Great excite
ment followed. The whole town seemed
TO learn the news simultaneously. In
mediate investigation resulted in find
ing John Brownson, lying wounded and
unconscious, in the garden of the Tay-
lor farm. Medical skill was summoned,
and it developed that painful, but not
necessarily fatal, bullet wound in his
| leg would compel his confinement in his
room for some time.
The Morning Item contained the fol-
| lowing account of the occurrence:
John Brownson, farmer living near