St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1899-06-03

at his calculation, he completed ten OF
these revolutions minute.
Upgn Dne occasion the professor
called upon him, and Warren shouted:
Thief thief! give me back my
esyatch!"S
The old man retreated hastily, and
now the patient was visited by no one
but the servant, who contented himself
with knocking upon the door and leay-
ing the tray Of food outside.
Warren was growing Insane. He be-
gan to fear himself, but what he dreaded
most wasthe loss of time. To Warren
timewas deity, alternately worshiped.-
entreated and feared.
Summer had assed without any Wis.
ible change in his cond iti ion. His friends,
were hopeful still, and the professor
although reticent, expressed his belief
in the ultimate success of the rest cure.
Warren had become Indifferent to
everything but his task. The walls oil
his room were defaced with knife cuts;
there remained only aninch Of space
upon which to mark his interminable
hferoglyphics. Observing this, he be-
gan to argue with himself where he
might begin anew. He shook his head
sadly.
sOnly an inch," he muttered.
+ Then he sprang up, and, seeing
knife, began to work industriously.-
One, two, three, then up to 80, then.
so again, and so on until the space was
completely covered. He was in despair,
Suddenly a brilliant idea occurred to.
lHm. He gathered up the rugs, rolled
them together and tossed them out OF
the window. Then he began to Gu!
marks on the floor Frequently weary
and bending. his. knees callous, his
hands shaking, he would fall asleep.
and wake only to continue his task.
Day and night became alike to him.
Finally the floor was covered. What
was he to do now2 As the problem.
confronted him the mailman wept tears
of despair. He sat for some time.
crouched beneath a, window, then a
slow smile dfffused itself over his face,
He tore away his sleeve, and, barring his.
arm, .pricked his skin with the pointlaf
the knife. Hescounted aloud as he did
so, while the blood triclzled from the
wound. Then the naaman grew elated;e
there would remain yet another arm.
after that the legs, finally the chest. q
His fingers were clotted with, blood
as he worked eagerly. tattooina arms
and legs. Ia the esilenee Of the room he
heard a familiar sound. 1T resembled
the ticlsing of a clock. Hepaused twice
to listen. Yes, heswas not mad; 1ioAones
could mistake the steady tick, tick"
A cloeki He sprang to his feet, the
knife clattering upon the floor. A.
clock! Where .was,it? He dashed about
the room. He could see nothing the
clock was hidden. Still steadily sounds
ed the stick, tick Always at the same,
distance, no nearer, no further.
He remembered watch that he had
carried when boy: silver gift watch
given him by his father.
81 He felt. his pocket. Perhaps it was
there now. No, his pocket was empty.
He bent his head over his left shoulder.
listening intent1y. Then he cried aloud
in, delight. 4 2ssg| s.sig .Ye ~ 3.
He had found the clock. It was there,
where his heart had once benin his
body, on the left side. How loud II
ticked! He held his coat over it to
muff1e the sound that seemed to pene.
trate the walls. With his nails he dug
into the flesh, striving to tear from It
the precious tinepiece. NF4
fssTiek, tick."k.% ~ 6@ Sss-S
Heavens! How time was passing
He struck his chest fercely. With the
movement he stepped backward. AS he
did SO his foot struck something. He
looked down and saw the knife. Then
he was calm. sfTick, tick went the
clock, but the sound troubled him no
longer In moment he would see the
white dial, the black hands. moving,
slowly and that other hand that twirled
away the seconds. Once again he would
be master of time, not its slave. e
i He stopped and picked up the knife.
It's edge was ragged where he had
forced it into the walls. He moved the
fingers of his right hand carefully along
his side, until he felt that they rested
directly above the clock.
sTicl, ticla'' Il SssG
The point of the knife met the sound
and silenced it.-Chicago Times-Her-
aid. ss2s e $50 e