Year: 1877

The Strange Conduct Of San Fran


cisco L0dger.


A reporter of San Francisco papel
applied to the landlady of boarding
house for an explanation of the fact
which he had noticed, that light wa
constantly burning in one of the from
apartments of her house. She told the
following story:


Four years ago-I have held this
house for nearly six years-a young
man and woman came to me to lent q
large bedroom. They said they were
man and wife. He told me that he was
the agent of a business house in St.
Louis, and that he intended to make his
permanent home in San Francisco. ]
gave them a room and they moved in.
He had a lot of nice pictures, and she
seemed to have plenty of fine clothes.
He was tall, dark, slim young man,
not over twenty-seven years old, ! should
judge, and she was a brown-haired girl,
very delicate-looking, and was always
singing She'd begin at six o'clock in
the morning and sing while she was
dressing, before they went out to break
fast. Then when she came back she'd
sing, and whenever went in to make
up her room she was painting in water
colors. She seemed a perfect lady, and
before l knew it / grew very fond of her.


"Did he seem fond of herp asked
the reporter.


"That he did," said the lady. After
he came home at night, he'd take her
out to walk, and / guess they went to
the theater most every evening. One
morning he came to me and said :
Mrs. -, Ella is not very well. We
are going to have an addition to our
family pretty soon, and you'd do me a
great favor if you'd drop in now and
then and see her during the day, for she
is getting low spirited 1 promised ]
would, and sure enough, she was getting
sort of down-hearted, and / did not hear
her sing any more. She told me that
she felt as if she would like to see her
mother, who, she said, was very far away.
Once or twice she kissed me and cried,
and told me that she felt home-sick
but she said she would not have her
husband know it for the world. / never
asked the poor thing where she came
from; but always tried to comfort her
the best l could"


"Did she have any female friends
come to see herw


"Not one," said the landlady. 81
don't think she knew a soul except her
dressmaker, who used to come up there
and help her ort making baby clothes.
While they worked together she used to
get very cheerful and sing: but the mo-
ment the dressmaker went away and /
dropped into her room, as 1 promised
her husband / would do, she was crying
again. Well, baby was born, and l
was walked up late one night by her hus-
band, who told me that he thought his
wife was dying. 1 put on my wrapper
and hurried to her bedside. The poor
thing was lying there pale, and her baby
living by her. You have been very
kind to me, Mrs. -, she said, 'and /
thank you oh SO much for it; for 1 am
afraid 1 will not live to show my graft
tude in any other way Well, she died,
and the baby with her." and here the
good-natured woman wiped the moisture
from her eyes. "He did not have her
buried. / never saw a man SO crazy.
He had doctor come here and take
them both away. 1 asked him where
the funeral was to take place. Fu-
neral said he, there will be no funeral.
l will hever put my wife under the
ground. What is left of her will re-
main with me as long as live The
babyhe buried"


"Well, how about the light I" said the
reporter.


"Tll explain all that, said the land
lady. "a few days after the lady went
out of the house long box came back
and was carried to his room; what was
in it l never asked him, but if you
come up stairs l will show you just as
much as have ever SEEN"


The reporter followed her up stairs,
and she opened the door. Lying on a
couple of chairs ON one side of the room
was black mahogany box about six feet
in length, and two and half feet or SO
in width. A lot of flowers were strewn
over it. which filled the room with a
heavy odor. A sewing machine in the
corner looked as if it had Just been
used. Some linen and lace fringe were
on the floor under it. An open work
box was on the table. The room seemed
as if it had been occupied by a lady.
who had left her work unfinished and
strewn around.


He keeps his light burning every
night" said the landlady, I" and when
wake up 1 hear him walking up and
down. What he has in that box, of
course l don't profess to know. You
can draw your own conclusions about
that"


Have you ever seen the lid of the
box Off" inquired the reporter.


"Never," said the landlady, "and l
never want to. 'Tis his business, and
nobody else's, / suppose. But what
bothers me is when he sleeps. He is
never quiet in his room. But he pays
me regularly, and l have nothing to do
about it as long as he settles the extra
gas and does not disturb any one in the
house."


This is all the reporter could learn
about the mysterious lodger. 1t seems
an intrusion to pry into the mans Sc
cret whatever it might be. There was
evidently here love that extended far
beyond the grave.