The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1934-06-07
TheAmateur Gentleman
BY Jeffrey FarnoI

All at once Barnabas knew that
his companions fear of him was
gone, swallowed up-forgotten in
terror of the unknown. He heard
a slow-drawn, quivering sigh, and
then, pale in the dimneSs, her hand
came out to him, crept down his
arm, and finding his hand, hid itself
in his warm clasp; and her hand
was marvelously cold, and her fin
gers stirred and trembled in his.
INSTALLMENT THIRTY-TWO
CANGE again rustling in the
~ leaves, but louder now. and
drawing nearer, and ever the fairy
chime swelled upon the air. And
even as it came Barnabas felt her
closer, until her shoulder touched
his, until the fragrance of her
breath famed his cheek, until the
warmth of her soft body thrilled
through him, until, loud and sud-
den in the silence, a voice rose
a rich, deep voice:
"'Now is the witching hour when
graveyards yawn'-the witching
hour-ah!-Oh! poor pale ghost, I
know thee-by thy night black hair
and sad, sweet eyes-I know thee.
Alas, SO young and dead-while I,
alas, SO old and much alive! Yet
I, too, must die some day-soon,
soon, beloved shadow. Then shall
my shade encompass thine and float
up with thee into the infinite.
But now. aha! now is the witch
ing hOurl Oh! shades and phan-
toms, 1 summon thee, fairies, pix
les, ghosts and COLLINS, come forth,
and I will sing you and dance you.
IT'S rare song, mine-and well
liked by the quality,-you've heard
it before, perchance-ay, az for
you, being dead, hear and see all
things, oh, Wise Ones! Come, press
round me, SO. Now, hearken,
oysters! oysters! and away we co.
MANY a knight and lady fair
My oysters fine would try,
They are the finest oysters, sir,
That ever you did buy.
Oysters! Who'll buy my oysters, obi"
The bushes rustled again, and
into the dimneSS leaped a tall, dark
figure that sang in a rich, sweet
voice, and capered among the
shadows with a fantastic dancing
step, then grew suddenly silent and
still. And in that moment the moon
Shone out again, shone down upon
a strange, wild creature, bareheaded
and bare of foot.
A very tall man he was, with
curling gray hair that hung low
upon his shoulders, and upon his
coat were countless buttons of all
makes and kinds that winked and
glittered in the moonlight, and
jingled family as he moved.
For a moment he stood notion
less and staring, then. laying one
hand to the cleaning buttons on
his bosom, bowed with an easy,
courtly grace
who are you?" demanded Bar
nabaS.
BILLY, sir, poor Billy-Sir Will
liam, perhaps-but, mum for that;
the moon knows. but can not tell,
then why should ~"
"And what do you want-here?"
ITO sing, sir, for you and the
lady, if you will. I sing for high
folk and low folk. I have many
songs, old and new, grave and gay,
but folk generally ask for my
oyster Song
IT sing for rich and poor, for the
sad and for the merry. I sing at
country fairs sometimes, and some
times to trees in lonely pleasures
are excellent listeners always. But
tonight I sing tor-Them."
"And who are they?"
1.-THE Wise Ones, who, being dead,
know all things, and live forever.
All, but they're kind to poor Billy,
and though they have no buttons to
give him, yet they tell him things
sometimes. Aha! such things!-
things to marvel at! So 1 sing for
them always when the moon is full,
but, most of all, I sing for Her."
who is she?"
Ito Be Continued