Year: 1878

had been vaccinated. And thus again he
got into trouble, for neither his host nor
hostess knew his meaning. He was trip
ped up again bya reference to sewing ma
chimes; and, finally, by remarking, inno-
Gently, when Miller observed that it had
just begun to rain, that he was sorry he
had not his rubbers with him.


But he would not try to explain his
meaning when they pressed him. He had,
indeed, an increasing tendency to tacitnr-
nifty. He shrank more and more from the
thought of attempting a discussion of the
situation in which some wondrous mis-
chance had placed him. As Miller waxed
boisterous and lively in his talk, Ephraim
was strongly impelled to complete reserve.


For he had, creeping over him, gradu-
ally. horrible feeling that these people,
in whose company he was lingering, were
not real people; that they were dead, and
that by some awful jugglery they had been
summoned forth and compelled to play
over, before him, travesty Of their former
lives.


He became gloomy and wretched be-
meath the oppression of the thoughts that
crowded his brain. AS the hour slipped
away his distress was made more intense
by the conduct of Miller, who, warmed
with wine, mingled oaths with converse
ton. Ephraim felt as if that blasphemy
came to him clothed with a new horror
from the region of mystery beyond the
grave. Finally, after Mrs. Miller had left
the room, her husbands utterance became
thick and harsh, and presently he slipped,
drunken and helpless, beneath the table.
Ephraim sat alone at the board. The
room grew darker, for the rain was now
swirling without, against the window panes.
There was something ghastly and fearful
in the appearance of the apartment. The
outlines of the furniture, seen through the
dusk, were distorted aud misshapen. Eph-
RAIN felt as if he were in the presence Of
! phantoms. He had the sensations of one
who sits in a charnel house, and knows
that he is the only living thing among the
dead


His good sense half revolted against the
fear that overspread him; but it seemed
not strong enough to quell the tremulous
terror in his soul; for that grew and grew
until it filled him with kind of panic.
He had such meaningless dread as the
bravest know when they find themselves
amid darkness and loneliness in a dwelling
wherein, Of late. have been pleasant COM
pany and merriment and laughter; wherein
has been joyousness that has suddenly been
quenched by utter, dismal silence.


He was seized by sudden impulse to
fly. He pushed away his chair, and
glanced timorously around him. Then he
trOd swiftly, aud then with fercely beat
ing heart, to the hall way. Grasping his
hat from the table, he opened the door and
fled out into the tempest


As he sped away through the gloomy
street, now wet and slippery, and covered |
with pools of rain, it smote his heart with |
4 new fear to think that even the city |
about him with its high walls and impend- |
ing roofs, its bricks and stones and uplift- |
ing spires, was unreal to ghastliness. But /
even this great dread did not forbid his |
mind to recall the mysteries of the day.


'l know, he said, as he rushed onward, |
''what it means. This is the past Some /
mighty hand has swept away the barrier
of years and plunged me once more into /
the midst of the life that / knew in nv |
youth, long ago And have loved and |
worshipped that past Blind, foolish man ! /
| loved it! All, how | hate it now |! /
What 4 miserable, miserable time it was
How poor and insufficient life seems under
its conditions How meanly men crawled
about, content with their littleness and /
folly, and unconscious of the wisdom that /
lay within their reach, ignorant of the vast
and wonderful possibilities that human in
genuity might compass !"


"There was nothing in that dreary past |
that | could love, excepting" and Eph-
rain was almost ready to weep as he |
thought that the one longing of his soul
could not be realized-"excepting those
who we're torn from my arms, my heart,
my home, by the cruel hand of death p


The excitement, the distress, the an
guish, the wild terror of the day, come
back to him with accumulated force as he |
hurried along the footway; and when he
reached his own home he was distracted,
unnerved, hysterical.


With eager but uncertain fingers he
pushed open the front door and went over
into his sitting-room. There n fresh shock
came to him, for he saw his wife in the
chair she had occupied in the old time,
long ago. She arose to greet him, and he
saw that her dear face wore the kindly /
smile he had known so well, and that had
added much to his sum of happiness in
the years that were gone. He leaped TO
clasp her in his arms when he heard the
sweet tones of her voice welcoming him;
his eyes filed with tears, and the sohs
came, as he said


"Ah, my dearest, my dearest have you,
too, come up from the dead past to meet
me? loved-loved you-T'-


He felt his utterance choked, the room
swan before him, there was a ringing
noise in his ears, he felt himself falling;
then he lost consciousness.


He knew nothing more until he realized
that there was a gentle knocking near to
him, as of some one who demanded admit
tance at the door lie reused himself with
an effort, and almost mechanically said:


"Come in !"


He heard a light step, and he opened
MS eyes. ne was III MS own Deu-TOOul,
the room Of the present, not of the past,
and in his own bed. 1t was Nelly who
knocked at the door; she stood beside him.


at is time to get up, grandpa, she said.


"Wh-where am l? What has hap
pened ?" Then as his mind realized the
truth, he said:


go Nelly Nelly! how 1 have suffered p


Glow, grandpa?"


'I-I-but never mind now, my dear;
l will tell you after awhile Run down
stairs while l prepare for breakfast. But
Nelly, let me tell you not to believe what
l said to you about the glories of the past;
it was not true my child, not true Ihave
learned better; l talked to you like fool
ish old man. Thank God, my dear, that
you live late in the worlds history. No
man is more unwise or more ungrateful
than he who finds delight in playing the
part of An Old Fogy."


One of the most remarkable things in
human nature is the willingness of women
to sacrifice a girls life for the chance of
saving the morals Of a scapegrace man.