Clarke courier. [volume] (Berryville, Va.) 1869-1997, 1901-08-14

oughly convinced at last that the
room was haunted. Now, cannot
explain it, and therefore / have new
er before spoken of it. / do not care
In my old age to be called a crank.
But you go and see for yourself"
And go 1 did that very night.
How familiar the old room looked
Not q piece of furniture hsd been
changed. Even the carpet, it SEEM
ed to me, was the very same On
which l entered as a bridegroom q
quarter of a century ago.
The influence of the place was
magical. In a moment time had
turned back in its fight, and I was
a boy again, full Of strength and
hope and happiness. That grave up
in the old cemetery, by a merciful
delusion, disappeared, and my wife
returned in her youth and beauty,
just as she left me that first year OF
our married life. 1 forgot the long,
lonely years of my bereavement. I
forgot the present, with its never
ceasing regrets and heartaches; but,
soothed by the sweet dreams of nv
early manhood, 'T drew the draperY
of my couch around me" and was
soon lost In pleasant dreams.
Suddenly a sound disturbed me.
Some one was rapping at my door.
Without a moments hesitation I
reached for a match, lighted the
lamp and called out Hospitality,
Come in" Then / waited, sitting
half way up in bed and watching ex-
pectantly my chamber door. A
slight noise caused me to turn my
head, and this is what ] saw: Tho
wardrobe door swung slowly open.
and there stepped out into the room
q tail and strikingly handsome man.
He was Immediately followed by q
beautiful girl and she, in her turn,
by another. Then another actor in
the drama appeared and another I'M
til the room was filled with a party
of the most distinguished people,
taken as a whole, l had ever seen
together There was not one infe-
rior or homely person among them.
But the thing which impressed me
most forcibly was not so much the
perfect physical beauty of each one
of my unknown guests as the unmis-
taxable signs on each of true no
bility of soul, of a nature so much
less human than divine.
As soon as they entered there was
a perceptible change in the atmos-
phere. 1t was as if I had been trans
ported to a purer, higher region,
where crime and vice, selfish aims
and sordid cares were unknown.
The first man came directly to the
bed and, leaning on the footboard,
spoke to me: "Sir, I thank you for
your invitation. We have been rap
ping here for years to the different
occupants, but not one except your
self has ever hidden us enter"
/ looked out at him with much in
terest from over the edge of the
cover, which l had drawn close up
to my nose at sight of my female
visitors. He was such q perfect
man in every way that the mere
sight of him was treat.
'1f all the ghosts were like you
and your companions" said !, "msn
would soon lose his natural horror
Of them"
"But we are not ghosts" replied
he. Ghosts are the spirits of peo-
pie who are dead. We have never
lived; therefore we could not have
died"
Neither living nor deadp cried
I. "Then who or what are your"
Owe are lost ideals, the inhabit-
ants of a dream world. Our homes
are those far famed castles in the
air. We are the ideal husbands and
wives whom the men and women
married and lived with here in this
room during their honeymoons.
Needless to say, they left us behind
when they emerged, enlightened be-
ings, from this paradise of fools "
"This is horrible~ I cried. 'FDo
you mean to say that every person
who married is deluded and disap-
pointed~
"Your question worded different
ly would be, Us marriage a failure ?
But surely you do not expect be-
ing like myself to discuss with you
in this fresh young century that old
threadbare subject"
The speakers eyes twinkled mer-
rily, and he laughed amusedly. Evi-
IDENTITY this ideal had plenty of hui
NOR in his make up, and somehow
it shocked me. For the first time
aimee his appearance chat creepy
feeling" passed over me, and / sank
deeper into the cover.
Seriously speaking" he contin.
ued, 81 could not if I would discuss
that subject with you, for 1 can see
only one and that the ideal side Of
the question. From this standpoint