The Rathdrum tribune. (Rathdrum, Idaho) 1903-1963, 1924-11-28
The
House Of Dreams
BY ERNEST LEVINE

az Vlu DIS Inc kurltduS, ana some say
but this Is pretense--it takes It's nam,
from the Maynower No one would
guess at its age from the neat row.
OF clapboard houses on either side Of
the long street. unless one took 6
glance at the old Manor House bach
In Its maple grove.
A very old house, which has be-
longed to the Clay family from time
immemorial. A mysterious house. for
~ years at least, since old Mr.. Clay,
the author Of profound, queer books
became recluse there Mysterious
oven to the tradesmen's boys, who
knock at the back door and, eliciting
no response. leave their parcels there.
The old. deaf hOusekeeper hardly
counted. She, too. was a recluse. Cos
sip rose and fell IN Maytown about the
Manor House. What was happening
inside 1T Who were the visitors who
sometimes went there?
Maytcwn II puritanical. prohibition
ist Of course. eodly and possessed Of
burning hatred for beauty. Beauty
and immortality are the two deadly
sins. immortality in Maytown? Hush!
Maytown hated the Manor House
with fury that was becoming mad
ness. II hated 1t for its age, because
OF the spacious rooms-poor, cramped
minds that dwelled in little, ornate
parlors with twisted furniture, and
tiny halls. It hated 1t because It
stood for something which had once
been the heritage Of all men, certain
freedom, nobility Of life.
1t hated old Mr.. Clay. who could be
seen very rarely seated In his chair
upon his porch, among the naples. An
old man with q white beard, who wrote
queer books about beauty. Novels?
Well. sort Of novel, but nobody could
understand them.
But-who were the night visitors Mt
the Manor House? Who were the vis-
itors that some people declared they |
had seen leaving. very early In the
morning. Women Young womeni
All, old Mr.. Clay might not be all that
he pretended to be!
1t was curious, the sort of people
who told these tales. There was the
child Henry. for Instance, a sensitive.
dreamy boy who declared that he had
heard music late one night. and seen
the windows brilliantly lit up, and n
crowd Of women In fancy dresses, and
very tall man with the collars grand
rather wore when he sat for his
portrait.
And there was old blind Matty, who
that hn hod
here were more people living in the
Manor House than any one suspected.
They limited at things to the deaf old
lousekeeper, but It was impossible to
make her understand. She was stone .
leaf, almost. Nothing to be got our {
+ her. ,
But more and more the feeling rose /
gainst the Manor House There was G
revival on In Maytown. There was
general feeling that che happenings '
the Manor House ought to be S
topped. Especially after the beauti- C
II young lady In sort of crinolIne v
'de away on a white horse at four n
clock In the morning. p
Hen Willett vouched for this. He Il
I'd heard the horse passing his c.
liners house, and had crept out of D
"a and run to the window. She had ft
pale face, and looked so proud, as +.
all Maytown we're dirt beneath her 81
et tu
something had to be done. Deacon 81
1ggs and Deacon Brossett agreed. 81
le place ought TO be raided These ~
openings were almost a nightly oc IN
rrence. Especially on Saturday ~
shts. A little party agreed with 81
EN-. The Manor House was a men. g
to the health and morals of thu ~. ~
,h
A dozen men and women gathered mi,
concert plan. Mrs SilIett an6 90
So Wimp, the oldest spinster, agreed 80
t the end justified the means. W.
Oh. It's scandal !" Miss Wimp do TN
req Those hussies who go there for
mt to be ducked In the pond NJ
4 midnight the raiders started ser
ong them was old blind Matty. She the
she had that feeling that tbere
e people In the Manor House. She
heard a girl laugh from one OF
windows as she went past that
'rnoon. ga
rashl Smash The back door was ~
n. The party rushed into the -.
e, along the hall. upstairs. II was .l
Gus that the Manor House really 1 ~,
cared deserted. No! There was ~
electric light burning in the biz CO.. CO.,
on the second foor-the drawing on
as II had once been.
Mr.. Clay sat there at a desk
pen IN his hand, his white beard -,
ing at the little breeze that came
rough the window. There was no