The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-06-27

frequent alter dunJ b uSdI0.
Mr.. Hosfeld v said a word
about religion. He had many relig-
ious books in his library; but no
ticed that their bindings were we'll
preserved, far better preserved than
the bindings of the other volumes.
He seldom had visitors. His house
hold consisted Of a few servants.
July came and | vas soon to leave
for home. A few days before my de-
p~arture my uncle engaged me in a
long rambling conversation; his mind
seemed to wander SO that | felt he was
ill.
THAT morning was just like this
cool, dewy, with the u rising over
the blue eastern mountains. My I'M
Gle, after my return from Mass, asked
me to go walking with him. He was
kinder that morning to me than ever
before. How full of life and youth |
felt, as we walked briskly across the
wet grass!
after a walk of an hour or so, our
steps-or rather Mr.. Hosfeld's-led
us to the cemetery where Agnes was
buried. We entered it. 1t Vas filled
with splendid monuments, which were
sermons in themselves on the short
ness of human existence.
Magnificent indeed looked the
marble Hosfeld mausoIeum. Within
it lay the Wondering bodies Of gen
e~rations of naughty Hosfelds, and
among them a-Catholic!
"Ah, Andrew, there are mothers
now holding innocent babes to their
bosoms, whose fond hearts little
dream that those same infants will
one day stray from the true fold and
will, like Agnes Hosfeld, decay far
from the ground blessed by the
Church in which they were born.
"Mr. Hosfeld opened the vault with
a great brass key and asked me to en-
ter with him. My curiosity prompted
me to accept the invitation. | shud-
dered in spite of myself, as | walked
down the mouldy stairs and the damp
air blew upon me.
Poor Aunt Agnes! What a cold
and cheerless bed for her luxury-lov-
ing body! Already her little coffin
was beginning to lose it's color.
"Mr. Hosfeld looked through the
glass in the coffin down into my
aunt's face. His lips we're tWitching
~nervously and his face was that Of a
corpse.
"'Come, Bernard he said, beckon-
ing. I stepped to his side.
Nothing fades SO quickly as beauty,
Andrew; already the face that was SO
lovely and winsome a month before
was blotched and discolored. Great
blue spots were on the cheeks and
forehead; the eyes were beginning to
sink back in their sockets. After all
the care Aunt Agnes had bestowed on
her beauty, it now was gone; a month
had destroyed the face that was SO
much raved about.
Sick at heart, I turned aside and
burst into tears. When | had dried
my eyes, Mr.. Hosfeld's face was to-
ward me. I was just about to ask
him to leave the vault when | noticed
the expression on his c~ountenance and
became frozen with horror. He said
something; but in my grief and fear
his voice seemed far off and | under
stood only a few of his words.
"Let us never leave her, you and
I, Bernard he said, rather gayly;
she is lonely here
81 tried to move, but my limbs re
fused to. obey me; and | stood there,
helpless, in the power of a mailman!
| felt his strong fingers close on my
trembling arm and the next minute
he had clutched me by the throat. |
saw the frightful glee in his eyes as
his hands. frightened about my neck.
| was sitting, my eyes seemed to start
from their sockets; | felt my brain be-
ginning to swim.
with a fervent prayer to the
Sacred Heart, I struggled, though !
had little strength left. / gave Mr..
Hosfeld a violent push. His foot
slipped on the wet stone floor and he
fell, dragging me down with him. His
head struck, with a sickening thud on
the marble slabs; his grasp on my
throat relaxed, and tearing myself
from his grasp | fled shrieking into
the open air.
when the police found Mr.. Hos
field, he had regained consciousness
and was lying calmly across Aunt
Agnes coffin babbling and whispering
words of ~endearment. | did not 20
back to the vault with the officers.
"But | have told you enough, An
drew, to show how much the Sacred
Heart has done for me, and what profit
there is in the yearly novena-its
feast. | have great hopes that Aunt
Agnes is saved, for hers was a true
penitent's death. l can almost see
her now with tears of contrition on
her cheeks and a crucifix clasped to
her bosom, as she died.
"Our journey is almost at an end
now, Andrew; time flies quickly when
one talks, doesn't it,"
"tBut what of Mr.. Hosfeld?' | in.
quired.
"He was removed to an asylum
where he died without ever regaining
his reason. The physicians said that
he had inherited insanity from his
mother"
So ended Mr.. Darrow's account of
his aunt. On the following day he
left Greenleigh and | never met him
again. A few years later he was raised