Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1914-09-30
SHADOW OF A MAN
Adventures Ancient Vigor, In
cited by a Glimpse of Heaven,
Seeks Its Lost Might.
BY r. j. PEARSALL.
as a strange thing.

H0dQ III the SAME cOullOIIluS way, dhN
there was the same little house at the
end of the path, and the same smiling
face to meet him.
Yet there was something altogether
different, and when ne came to con-
slider earnestly what it was, he found
that, curiously, he was not himself;
that he was outside of himself, and re-
garding himself from distance, and
q very great distance, too. This real
ization disturbed Jonas very much,
and he strove to recover possession of
himself, as it were. but could not.
The effort caused him confusion and
indistinctness of vision, so he desisted,
and contented himself with watching
this man who was, and yet who was
not, himself. Thus resting, he was en-
abled to come closer, and, if not to
regain his identity, at least to enter
into some of the thoughts and feelings
of his double.
Jonas was a we'll set-up man, some
where around thirty. He had clean
cut features and a square jaw, and
was dressed in the garb of the better
class of American workmen.
AS he approached the house pretty
face appeared in the window and as
quickly disappea red, and his wife, who
had been the 3theart of his school
days, stood in door.
What do you think?" she began,
and then her lips were checked by
the wifely greeting that made Jonas
F1int's heart beat faster. What do
you think? See here"
She led him through the house-a
short enough passage it was-and out
through the back door; and there were
a dozen fluffy little chickens presided
over by an important, jealous-eyed old
hen. They just Matched this after
noon. Aren't they cute?"
They we're cute, but far more at
tractive to Flint's eyes was the 1.-the
figure of his young wife.
But you must be hungry" she said,
land tired And supper's ready
And supper was ready-the finest
supper spread on a tea-table just big
enough for two in a pretty little din
ing-room just big enough for the tea
table Jonas, sitting with his wife
across the board, felt that he was the
happiest man in all the world.
Il was tired. But l couldn't stay
tired here. Nelly, this is home"
You like this place better than
other places, then?" she inquired
naively, knowing his answer before
hand.
other pIacesl Let me forget them.
Here, in this house, with you, it is
Heaven. l have wandered for years,
Nelly, but l never really knew happy
hour. No, nor happy moment"
Supper over, they sat on the porch,
she sewing, he blowing great rings Of
smoke into the air.
He grew drowsy, his head fell for
ward, his eyes closed, then opened,
then closed again.
He was asleep.
He woke.
The sun was shining fiercely in
through the hole in the wall that
served as a window for the miserable
little room in which he had slept.
His ears were vexed by the jabber-
ing of the native women. Through the
half-open door he could see them pass
and re-pass.
They were almost black, their fea-
lures were those of negroes; they
were dressed in horrible deshabille.
There was an indescribably dirty
odor in the air.
So vivid mad been his dream that
he could not for the moment realize
that it had been a dream, and that this
was reality. When he did, he rose,
cursing Yolubly.
He took long draft from an evil
smelling essel and made his short
toilet. Dressed in white trousers and
the thinnest of undershirts, he left the
room, and, in company with half
dozen people, one negro, one chino
woman, and the rest natives, he ate
breakfast.
Dried fish and poi composed the
meal 1t was served in half-clean
dishes; still, he ate heartily. Years of
usage accustom one to anything, and
a dream is but dream.
Still, Jonas could not get this out
Of his mind, though he tried hard.
After breakfast, he went downtown,
as was his usual custom.
He had not had the feeling for
years. but when he walked through
the rows of squalid shacks that formed
the quarter in which he lived, all dirty,
dilapidated, and suggestive of name
less things, disgust filled him.
He strove to quiet his memories, but
could not His old home in the States.
Indian summer, the walks with Nelly
in the quiet, sweet-smelling lane, the
kiss. A virgin kiss he had known
it to be, filled with the matchless
splendor OF young girls first love.
The next day he had left her. He had
awakened a great love, and then left
it to die. And so. wronging her, he
had ruined himself. He saw it nowA-
quite plainly.
IL &b0uobf 0f tho droam apQiD-Or