The Birmingham age-herald., 1902-09-28

in this long abstinence from the fasci- mating problem did I catch sight of the spider, peering down upon me from be- hind the shoulder of the little terra-cotta bust of Dickens that sits on a dusky bracket just above my desk. looked up at the little fellow with smile, rose to my feet and held out my hand, when. at the motion, the insect covered trembling for an instant, then sprang up the wall beyond my reach. But from that time on I always felt it's presence though unseen, intuitively conscious that at all hours my every act was vigilantly overlooked and guarded by the all-seeing eye of that spider, and that every motion of my pen was duly noted by 1t, and accepted as token of the fact that I was busy and must not be disturbed. In fact, l even allowed my vanity such license that came to believe that the spider was not only interested in everything l did. but was actually proud of my accomplish ments besides. Certain 1t Is, l argued, that he likes my silence, my music. and my voice, and equally apparent from his actions that he likes my society under any and all circumstances. and 1t shall not be the promptings of mere curiosity on my part in the endeavor to strengthen and develop this curious bond of fellow ship but my serious and most courteous duty as well.
 So I went back to my night labors even greeted, the first evening, as l lit my lamp and sat down at the desk. with an- other mysterious scrawl which l readily interpreted in the one word Love
 I dashed the scrap down in a very spasm of revulsion and loathing. I can- not describe nor will l weaken the sense of utter abhorrence that fell upon me by an attempt to set it forth in words; why, could taste 1t, and it sickened me soul deep! remember catching quick breaths through my cinched and naked teeth; l remember snatching up lne pen as de- spairing man might grasp dagger; l re- member stabbing 1t in the ink, and draw ing it back in defiance; but as my hand once more rested on the desk it was my hand no longer. It was like another It was like another mans, and that man my deadly foe. l looked upon 1t vengefully wishing that in my other but held an axe-an old axe, with nicked and rusty edge-that might hack and haggle the traitor-member sheer off at the numb and pulseless wrist. And then the spider I tried to shrink back as the hideous insect again dangled be- fore my eyes, but could not move. Once more it clutched the holder of the pen, huddled its quivering limbs together, and sauatted in it's old position on the tip. And then began the movement of the hand
 This time my eyes were fixed upon the insect I could not move them from it. I could see nothing else; and but for the undulating motions of the pen felt that I might note its very breathings-and I did see it smile. Oh, horriblel Why, I set my teeth together till my inner sense of hearing pinged like bell, and I said, away down among the twanging flores of my heart, "I will kill you for that smile! I will kill you-kill you.' And when at last the motion of the hand had ceased and the hideous insect again ran down the penholder, leaning, and pressing into my naked flesh that keen, exquisite sting I snapped the thrall that bound me, flung the spider violent ly against the desk, stabbed the pen wildly at it with a dozen swift, vim dictive motions as the abhorrent thing lay for the moment writhing on its back. And 1 struck it. too. and pinioned it; but as for an instant I turned away from the revolting sight my pen still quivering above it. sunken eye-deep in the desk. my victim yet escaped me. for as I turned again. no sign remain ed to designate my murderous deed but one poor severed limb, twitching and trembling in ever-lessening throes and convulsions.
 turned my eyes upon the mysterious scrap once more, with the same unac- countable feeling of dread and revulsion that had possessed me as I read the scrawl. Written in the same minute. tremulous but legible hand in which the | first was traced I read:
 | 70. what strange tragedy is this of mine That wars within, and will not let me l cry?
 My soul seems leaking from me sigh by | sigh;
 And yet I dare not say-nor he divine | That I. so vile and loathsome in design, ] j1-s h-i-A-,-a s-ith hniling love: but I