Little Falls weekly transcript. (Little Falls, Morrison Co., Minn.) 1894-19??, 1900-07-10
my TURN OFLUC.

lvllI ! Ull / VI !, WI
| was a uie:nber Of the corps Of fIisna.
y visitors for the associated chaIits
one winter. j in my rounds ! MATS
some curious friends. sS vi NJ sssss
Among them were Mr.. and Mrs. Spat
row, an old couple who had known pEos-
perity in other days. They had been ~
ricbed by the silver boom at virginia
City In the remote days Of her greatness,
but their mine had filled with waterSow
ing to their bad fortune in encounteFing
an underground stream, and they had
been ruined. The mine was still there.
but 1t would take $4,000 to get Il III
working condition. "A vi gs y I VI. ;S$
"And that money will never come to
| u.s." said old Mrs. Sparrow sadly 5ssasI
have knowledge Of that. It has been
told me-" ,..l. ss..1s5... isgs$
"You are fortunate il you have friends
who can look into the future replied
lightly. She reproved me gently. ,S1
"You speak signorantly," J she snid.
"And it Is natural that you should. But,
unlikely as 1t may seem, have friends
who can see into the future even % they
can remember the past from the begin
ming OF time" a. ...,E 81 i%Ss9 .
You interest me. Mrs. Sparrow" y
confessed. ) 5'} Esl Gss3s
She arose from the black wooden chest
on which she was sitting and lifted out
both arms full of closely written manu-.
script. These she put upon the vel,
cleaned deal table. She, laid her hands
reverently upon them, and then, looking
me straight in the eyes, she said In her
queer little singsong voice: - sE$#
'Nights when I and my husband Sit
here lonely, remembering how we have
been bereft Of all that makes life dear,
a peculiar comfort comes to US. For the
room Is filled with the spirits of the dead.
all eager to know us. Some Of them are
simple people, but others have been great
in the worlds history. Some Of them
died only few days ago, but others
have been dead thousands and thousands
of years. We had one man here who
helped to build the pyramids. These peo-
pie are all grateful to me for helping
them to return to earth. They say that
the living are selfish and few of them
ever help the dead to return. And then,
to help Mr.. Sparrow and me pass the
time, which sometimes hangs heavily
upon our hands, they tell us stories"
'Tell you stories! Do they speak?"
interrupted. %
"No, not audibly. But sit down at
the table, take a pencil in my hand and
write the words that come to me. The
most wonderful tales are told me! old
mysteries which historians have puzzled
over have been solved for my amusement.
I have been told of the most ancient
things and been given insight into recent
scandals. And here in these many pa
pers are all my wonderful stories written
down." sS@
"But why don't you sell them 2. in
quired promptly, being Of practical turn
Of mind. ''Is there any need for yousto
be so poor with all these in your head?
The world wants good stories and is will
ing to pay for them"
1T would be sacrilege," she cried, her
old cheeks flaming. "Do you imagine
would so betray the confidence of my
friendsT $$ss
could not persuade her to hold any
other view. Nor would she even read the
stories to me. -5~,s :. = ss3.
"But when die," she added, 'sthey
shall be yours. You are writer, and
you will be able to get some ideas from
them. have perfect confidence in you,
true names of the persons who figure In!
Hthese narratives" .'~" n
"But will not some Of the stories lose
their interest II you make that stipula-
ton, Mrs. Sparrow?' s
1.-THE dead are defenseless," she replied.
''There Is even more occasion for being
loyal to them than to the living"
had talked about the matter out Of
polite indulgence merely. I had not an
idea that the sketches had the slightest
value. They were, without doubt, I opin-.
ed, the verbose maunderings Of this lone
" old creatures brain. 8
The associated charities kept Mrs. Spar
row and her failing husband supplied
with necessaries all that winter, and I had
thoughts of advising that in the spring
they be sent back to old friends in the
west.
But they frustrated my amiable plan
by dying within a week of each other,
both Of pneumonia. It was who saw to
their burying and the erection Of little
wooden headstone, which bore their
names. And it was l who saw to the
distribution among neighbors equally
poor of their pathetically few effects.
As for the black chest with the manu-
scripts, kept that for myself, as I had
been given permission to do.
was an unknown writer then. de
served to be unknown, suspect, for,
while possessed an eager impulse for
writing, lacked originality. My imag.
nation was hampered with a convention.
al point of view. stood for the usual.
the approved, the desired. .#'
Now have a reputation as the writer
Of singular and haunting stories. My
name is identified with all that is in.
genious, weird and mysterious In litera.
ture. know well that my name has
only to appear In the prospectus Of q
magazine to increase the sale Of that II
sue extraordinarily. The announcement
Of novel by me means that the first edi-.
ton will be sold before it leaves the
press. But cannot say that am hap.
py. Indeed sometimes think Of myself
% the most miserable of women. ,S;$
Nov v,1v ,<o<{n T. ma houooAV~, ,,>ss,