The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-09-23

| ish; and brackish it was to this day | And 1t was said that any one of tht race of the Pyncheons who looked into the pool could see strange sights--a procession of the crimes of their an. cestors pass above the pebbly bottom Old Wizard Maule had bewitched il and cursed 1t to the use of the Pynch- cons.
 Phoebe had asked Hepzibah if there were any of the descendants of Wig ard Mau1e living now, and the Old Maid had answered that as far as she knew, the race was extinct; the Maules had always been humble peo- pie, had worked and died and finally disappeared. But as Phoebe stood looking into the pool she began to see strange wavering shapes in 1t, and al last she caught the shadowy form oi a man looking up at her with strange compelling eyes; and she thought, why she could not tell, that old Maule's ghost looked at her from the pool But 1t was not the wrath of the wiz ard. It was only the reflection of a very flesh and tlood young man, MT. Holgrave, the taker of daugerreo- types.
 compliment" said the youth. with a smile, glancins at chicken, the sol itary offspring of the ancient fowl family of the Pyncheon breed. which had perched Itself upon Phoebe's shoulder. Tt Is because you are a Pyncheon."
 My name Is Phoebe Pyncheon," re- piled the girl with some reserve. T did not know that my cousins garden was under another persons care"
 "Yes," said Holgrave. T dig and hoe and weed in this black earth for the sake of refreshing myself with what little nature and simplicity may be left in 1t after man has so long sown and reaped here. My serious oc- cupation is of a lighter nature. In short, make pictures out of sun light--and am your cousins lodger."
 After this breaking of the ice, Phoebe, while driving hard bargains in the little shop, would often wonder if that most interesting young man were in the garden.
 One night Phoebe heard her cousin talking in the dusk of the old oak parlor with a stranger-talking low and solemn, but with a certain joyous ness and sweetness in her poor old cracked voice nevertheless. "You need not light the lamp. Phoebe" said Hepzibah And you have stayed late in the garden and-and go. to bed now" Then Phoebe knew that Clifford had
  great tomb of thirty years. Gradually she had learned the story. When the story is unpleasant there are always enough people to hint it or tell 1t out right
 The next morning at breakfast she saw hial-poor, faded. querulous. a homeless remnant of the Pyncheons. The love for the beautiful was still strong in him. He had arrayed him self in the same old dressing gown In which he had been painted by Malone when life and the dressing gown were bright and new. The grim, browning vIsage of the withered Hepzibah seem- ed to far on Clifford, but the fresh vouth of Phoebe delighted him and rested his tired eyes-eyes grown tired with gazing at things unlovely for three decades.
 After breakfast Clifford would sink into an easy chair and sleep or drowse untu noon. Then he would like to be led by Phoebe to the garden where in an old summer house by the pool which Holgrave had repaired he would sit and dream and doze for more hours. He would often gaze into the pool. often seem to see strange visions there. and often with tnquiring eyes would look at the young photographer.
 But Clifford's eyes never liked to nneet those of Ho1grave. There was sonething peculiar about the photo- qranher's eyes when he gazed at one intently He had the gift of mes merisul-or the curse of it. He knew hia strange power and once. when he told Phoebe of 1t and she laughed at him he fixed his eyes on her with Q