The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1903-01-04

the steps of the loft.
of wet frieze and perjury. l listened to in
documents of old women who piucked geese
alive. of publicans whose hospitality to their
friends broke forth uncontrollably on Sun
day afternoons. of parties" who. in tn,
. language Of the Police Sergeant. Were
subtly defined as not to say dhrunk, hui
in good fighting thrim.'
l got used to it all in time-I suppose one
can get used to anything-I even became
callous 10 the surprises of Mrs. Cadosan's
cooking.
As the weather hardened and the wood
cock came in, and one by one 1 discovered
and nailed up the rat holes, l began to find
life endurable.
The one feature of my establishment to
which l could not become injured was the
pervading sIbpresence of some thing or
things which for my own convenience !
summarized az Great-Uncle Mccarthy.
There were nights on which l was certain
that l heard the inebriate shuttle of his
foot overhead. the touch of his fumbling
hand against the walls.
There were dark times before the dawn
when sounds went to and fro, the moving
of weights. the creaking of doors. a far
away rapping, in which was a workmaniike
suggestion OF the undertaken, a rumble of
wheels ON the avenue.
In the process Of time ! brought Great
Uncle Mccarthy down to a fine point.
On Friday nights he made collins and
drove hearses.
During the rest of the week he rarely
did more than patter and shuttle in the
attics over my head.
Ava ,;,ht ar,a"t fh, p,ilJln Of nacarphar-
1 awoke suddenly. aware that some noise
had fallen like a heavy stone into my
dreams.
the long. grudging groan and the uncom-
promising bang OF the cross door at the
head OF the kitchen stairs. .
1 told myself that it was a drausht that
had done it. but it was a perfectly still
night.
Even as l listened, a sound OF wheels on
the avenue shook the stiffness.
In n few minutes l was stealthily cropping
my way down my own staircase. with a box
OF matches in my hand, and armed with a
! stick.
I stood in the dark at the top of the back
stairs and listened. The shores of Mrs. Cad
ogan and her nephew, Peter. rose tram
gully from their respective lairs.
! descended to the kitchen and lit 4 can
! die. There was nothing unusual there, OK
cept a great portion Of the Cadogan wear
, Ing apparel. which was arranged at the
! fire. and was being serenaded by W
crickets.
1t appeared to be my duty to inspect the
yard.
/ put the candle on the table ard went
| forth into the outer darkness.
, Not a sound was to be heard.
The night was very cold, and so dark
| that 1 could scarcely distinguish the rccfs
! of the stables against the sky.
The house doomed tall and oppressive
| above me: 1 was conscious Of how lonely it
stood in the dumb and barren country.
Something whirled out of the darkness
above me and fell with a flop on the ground
inst at nv feet.
| jumped backward; in point of fact 1
made for the kitchen door, and, with my
hand on the latch. stood still and wait I'd.
Nothing further happened; the thing that
Law there did not stir.
I struck a match.
The moment of tension turned to pathos
as the light ffickered on nothing more sate-
IN, than a dead crow.
Dead IL certainly was. .
7 cou,d have told that without looking
at II. but wby should it. at some consid-
cradle period after its death, fall from the
cloud. NJ nv feet?
But did it fall from the clouds?
7 struck another match and stared IN at
the ,uonenatrable face of the house.l
There was no hint of solution in the dark
windows hut l determined to go ,ip and
search the; rooms that gave UPON the ward.
How co,d II was, l can feel now the
frozen mus,y air Of those attics. with
their rat-eaten floors and wall papers
furred with damp.
went softly from one to another. feel