Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-08-25

family and at last went out to gather the
essentials of the breakfast.
He was compelled to walk down the nine
flights of stairs between himself and the
surface of the earth. for there was no ele-
vator running, nor was the janitor visible
But what did John Tankerman care for
that? 1t would be his last walk down those
stairs. up them. or in the elevator. FOR
that matter. because he had SloO,pD now,
and his wife had much more. ana their
fat days were at an end forever. IL was
very delightful to contemplate. and very
grateful to the feelings of Mr.. Tankerman
that his good fortune had come to him In
the Ieafy month of June. so that ne could
get out Of the stufry fat in the city and go
forth into the cool and fragrant fields or
the pleasant countryside. and ne look no
note of steps as he gradually descended
Arrived at the ground floor, he hurried out
to the street intent upon his marketing. for
he had suddenly become filled with eager
anxiety to finish his breakfast and go down
to the office, where he plodded away every
week day in the year for paltry 5000. He
wanted to tell of his luck to his employers
and to his felow-clerks and note their as
constituent. For years he had gone there
in the street cars, but now he would go in
a carriage and the very best one the livery
stable In the next block could supply so
absorbed was he in this fancy that for the
first few minutes he failed 70 observe the
unusual condition of the streets at that
hour and when he was recalled to himself
by the thought that he would get news
paper from his newsbOy to see II any one
had lost $20.0"0, he was panied to discover
that the boy who had been serving him for
FIVE years had disappeared from his accus-
toned corner. Strange to say. too. no other
boy had filed the vacancy. 1t occurred to
him as he made this discovery that he had
not heard any shouts on the street. and now
for the first time the peculiar stiffness OF all
about him affected him strangely.
Was everybody asleep? Had the world
got the days of the week mixed, and mis-
taken this one for Sunday? Could 1t be pos
sible that he had slept over q whole day,
and walked on the Sabbath? He might have
done So but his wife, never Even though
1t were Sunday, the street cars would be
running, and the newsboys would have been
no quieter than they should have been. He
turned to go into store for Information,
but it was closed. He hurried around the
corner into a street now no less quiet than
his own, and In which ordinarily there was
babel of huckstering hum about the mar
ket stands, only to find that every place
was closed. and the silence OF the grave
was over all. Not a policeman in sight.
Not a horse or cart. Nothing, nobody.
Rack to his own street he hurried, and for
several minutes waited for a street car, but
none came, not even the far-away rumble
of one. and not sound of the seething life
Of the city. he remembered II since he
was little fellow, wondering II there was
anything In the world that could hush its
deep breathing, and lay the healing balm
Of silence on its sounds.
AS he stood listening. a nameless fear
took possession Of him, and, running as II
a specter chased him, he fled homeward to
his fiat, and flying up the long stretches Of
the stairs, he fell exhausted in a chair in
his own apartment.
Did you get the things. John?" called
his wife cheerfly, from the kitchen, and the
familiar voice Gained his perturbed spirit
1t was Immediately followed by the COM
forting presence Of its owner Good land"
exclaimed the alarmed Mrs Tankerman.
when she saw her husband "Whatever Is
the matter With yOul"
Jane" he gasped, something has hap
pened"
What? How? To your" she calculated
"Who to? When? Where? Are YOU sick?
For goodness sake tell a body what the
matter is, and don't sit there as If you had
seen a ghost"
That's what it is. I'm afraid. DEAR he
answered her. and quite as incoherently as
she had spoken. AT least, l don't know
what 1t is
well, tell me- and maybe 1 can help you
some she insisted, although 1t might have
occurred to her that If her husband did not
know he could scarcely tell her.
rs breakfast ready?" he asked with .
violent effort.
| Yes. what there Is Of It? Why didn't you
| bring the other things?'
That's what's. the matter, Jane: there
isn't any other things: there isn't anybody
| or anything. The whole town is asleep or
dead. and the air in the streets is as clam
| my as the breath of a ghost. I don't know
| what 1t is, but something has happened
| and time alone can tell what 1t Is. The
| janitor isn't here, or the elevator boy and
there are no newsboys on the streets, or
! cars. and no stores open, or wagons run
| ming. or policemen, or people moving about,
| there isn't soul in the market and IT
| seems more like a haunted house than any
| thing else.
| Surrounded by a combination Of such
| strange circumstances, Mr.. Tankerman had
| quite forgotten his recent accumulation OF
| wealth. but Mrs Tankerman's mind was
! yet active on the subject.
We'll" she said resignedly. "let come
| what will come, john We are provided for,
| and now let US eat our breakfast and 20
| out together to learn what all the trouble
| Is about"
It was a task for Mrs. Tankerman to get
| down stairs after breakfast for 1t must be
| confessed that she was no longer sylph- like,
but she succeeded after much effort, meet
| ing tenants on two Of the floors who were
as annoyed as she was by the absence OF
the elevator boy and the Janitor. but they
speedily retired to their apartments and,
of course. Mrs. Tankerman said nothing to
them about the good luck that had befa1lsn
her. and which she had at that very mo.
ment in an uncomfortable bslt around her
waist. where thieves could not break In and